Loo's View

Fantasy Weekend

2010-05-26T18:16:00.000-07:00

Leave work early.
Stop at Pavilions on the way home and partake in their special weekend sale on sausages.
Make up a cocktail and have it on the back porch. Something with Root Beer.
Put on my holiday short shorts - they are actually kind of preppy.
Layout polos and matching bottoms for the weekend.
See SEX AND THE CITY 2 four more times (in my fantasy it's amazing).
Have dinner at Cecconis (that's actually happening).
Go to Dance Bitch at Fubar.
Sleep in.
Therapy (again, happening)-- a really great session
Hang out near pools. In my fantasy, my body is exactly where it should be by the 4th of July.
Laugh a lot with the boyfriend.
Brunches.
BBQs.
Hot dogs and potato salad.
Ribs.
Closeness and intimacy.
Ice Cream

The Biggest Loser is on Taco Tuesday

2010-05-25T21:54:00.000-07:00

Isn't that just God's sick sense of humor at play?

And speaking of God, I think he has everything to do with the fact that on Biggest Loser Taco Tuesday I want to eat as much as I can in front of the TV while I watch The Biggest Loser. Tonight was homemade chicken fingers with a salad that was loaded with blue cheese dressing and honey mustard to dip the chicken fingers in. And I mixed taco seasoning in with my breadcrumbs. Plus A&W Root Beer.

It's okay because tomorrow is Workout Wednesday and I'm meeting my friend Tim at the Gym at 7:15. It IS okay, right? I don't have too many calories to burn off, do I?

We have to resist the temptation to work out too hard because last week Tim overexerted himself and bruised a muscle or something. I thought he might have strained his neck by looking at all of the guys at the gym. But it was his bicep that was hurt.

Let me get back to the blaming God part. I think it's my Catholic sense of repression and rebellion that makes me want to eat a lot of fatty things on Biggest Loser Taco Tuesday. It's like Friday's in Lent. I don't get real cravings for meat except on Fridays during Lent. I could literally be a vegetarian all week and it'll be on a Friday during Lent that I binge on a Whopper. Or a pastrami sandwich. And it can't just be good meat like a grilled chicken breast. It will be a chili burger or an Italian sub. Or a plate of french fries topped with carne asada meat and strips of bacon.

So all of this talk of food might lead you to believe that I have a weight problem. Which thankfully I don't. But I kind of think about food all of the time.

Well...okay, food and sex. I'm a man. A man who can cook. So when I'm not looking at porn sites, I'm looking at food sites for recipes. It's kind of sick. But also kind of delicious.

But not both at the same time. That's a no-no. Keep the bedroom separate from the kitchen. Real pearls of wisdom to live by.

Why All the Sudden Blogging?

2010-05-25T18:22:00.000-07:00

I'm inbetween projects, so I have more time to spend on here.

No longer clogged, now I blog.

The Single Body

2010-05-25T17:13:00.000-07:00

Why is it that when people find loving relationships, they also find love handles?

I've been in a relationship for four and a half years now. When Wes and I had been dating for about a year and a half, I noticed something. I had to start buying size 34 jeans. Listen, I'm not fat by any stretch of the imagination. I'm 5'10" and around 160-165. I look lean. But I was getting to 175 and I looked like I swallowed Frosty the Snowman if Frosty was made out of matzo balls. It was not cute.

I remember calling my friend Brian because Wes and I were going to run the Florence Marathon together. I thought: "Here's my new weight loss plan."

Brian's response: "Why do you need to travel half way around the world and train for a marathon just to lose 15 pounds? Get to the gym!"

Then he offered another important piece of advice: "You've got to get your single body back, man. You can't just let it go. You've got to be training for life, not just eating for love."

It's like some crazy sexist advice that one's grandmother would give to a female child: "Fall in love and get married. But whatever you do, never lose your single body."

Well, I actually did run the marathon with my boyfriend. And we did cross the finish line, hand-in-hand in a Catholic country. And I did cry. And I ran with a single body, which I've worked hard to maintain. I've done P90X, six days a week for three months. I work out with my friend Tim, who's single.

Another piece of advice you'd probably read somewhere:

"To maintain the single body, one must exercise with a single friend."

I guess the main reason we let our single bodies go is that we find comfort in someone else. Obviously, we don't feel like we need to maintain certain appearances after a while. I don't know, I like looking good for my man and I know he likes looking good for me. And we sleep better when we're fit and we eat better and we basically make sure that we're around for each other for a long time.

On the other hand...we love to eat and there are so many restaurants that we need to know about so that we can recommend to our friends. And it's sophisticated to drink.

So it's tough. At the very least, one should learn how to dress around their extra baggage. Camouflage at least works for about 15-20 pounds. After that, diet. And after that...(sigh) exercise.

I guess those cute annoying couples do things like work out together. But how can you check out other people if you're going to the gym at the same time?

Joking!

Besides, it's not fun to check anyone out when you're working out hard. I like to be sweaty and stinky and grungy when I work out. Getting the single body is not pretty.

Epilogue: My friend Brian has now been in a relationship for a couple of years. I wonder if it's as easy to maintain that single body.

Laundry and other Excitements

2010-05-25T15:04:00.001-07:00

I was talking with my friend Sarah yesterday about what we did over the weekend. And I guess it's just a sign of getting older or tired that I was a little jealous when she said she did laundry. I used to be the guy who lived in NYC and was out until 4:30 in the morning on Sunday/Monday morning and had to get in three hours sleep before work. And here I am now saying: "Oh my God, that would be so great to spend a whole day just listening to NPR, doing laundry and cooking for a week. Luxury!"

But I guess those are the things I like to do now. I like to get caught up on my Real Housewives and fold laundry. I love going through my refrigerator and looking to see what needs to be cooked up. I love putting on my headphones and listening to my iPod while grocery shopping. I love looking through the circular and making shopping lists. I am so strange.

Am I just turning down the volume? Is that a bad thing? I could go through cookbooks and make new recipes all day. What is that saying about me? Is it saying good things or bad things?

I want to go to Savannah and hang out with Paula Deen. Wouldn't that be kind of fun?

I Dreamed a New Dream

2010-05-24T07:39:00.000-07:00

I'm reading the Joe Papp book FREE FOR ALL: JOE PAPP, THE PUBLIC AND THE GREATEST THEATRE STORY EVER TOLD. It's got all of these great stories of The Public Theatre, told in oral history. My favorite part of course is where they cover famous productions from Hair to A Chorus Line to True West and The Normal Heart. I'm not all the way through yet, but I have to say that it's a bit like hearing your parents tell stories as a kid and just imagining what it was like to be there.

And, like everything in my life, it got me thinking. What am I passionate about? Sure, I've got this brilliant brand name education, some good life experience, and a shit load of things I've written. But am I living my passion? Here comes the life crisis, I'm sure you're thinking. That seems to be the theme among friends and my boyfriend. You grow up with dreams and then some of us face reality. Some of us kind of face reality and manage to do what interests them - that's kind of like moving to Orange County from Oklahoma because you want to be in Hollywood. It's "I'm doing what I love" adjacent.

I don't want to be adjacent any more. I want to be smack in the middle. I'm a playwright who should be working towards having more plays produced. I've started in the right direction and I finished two plays at the end of last year. And I'm currently working on a third. I've got a fourth that I'm trying to figure out and an older one we might produce. I'm tired of thinking - I can only be a produced playwright one way or another. Like self-producing is a bad thing. Like it means the work is of lesser quality. Like someone else has to like it in order for it to be good. And that someone else has to be an off-Broadway or regional house.

I'm more interested in the experience of it all. I haven't had that rehearsal room experience in a while. I haven't had those crazy discussions about things I've written with a group of actors and a director. I haven't rushed home after a read-through in a while to do an all night rewrite.

It doesn't mean that I'm abandoning the idea of working in television. It just means that I'm making more room. If I'm going to be struggling, I might as well be passionate about some of the things I'm writing. Because the dream is living that life. It's not making a shitload of money. And at the same time it's not about abandoning the idea that I can write for a living and only write. It's just that I don't want to sacrifice one for the other.

Putting it out there.

My Surreal Life

2010-05-24T07:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a quintessential Old Hollywood moment. I went to Hollywood Park, which I had never been to, despite being a native Angeleno. It was the memorial for John Forsythe who my boyfriend represented for years in voiceover. We got dressed for the races: he pin-striped pants, a cardigan and a dark straw hat complete with dark sunglasses and stogie; and I was wearing a stone colored suit with bright striped shirt underneath, hair off my face, grey Oliver Peoples sunglasses and green Prada loafers. We arrived in our caviar colored BMW convertible. It was very Hart to Hart, which was very appropriate given the stars who were at this event.

Of course, much of the cast of Dynasty was there as was Bernie Koppel (Doc from The Love Boat) and the guy who played Oscar Goldman in The Bionic Woman. My two geek moments were when I saw this put together, but not overdone, older woman in a black fedora and black trenchcoat. I looked at her and thought she looked very chic, but very understated and then I realized it was Angie Dickinson. That was kind of amazing. No-nonsense. I was later next to her in the buffet line and was secretly squealing.

Tippy Hedren and a bunch of hairdressers - and I don't mean that in a derogatory way. I think they were both hairdressers and gay. But they were more botoxed than she was.

But all in all it was a day at the races and that seemed delightfully retro. It was also a gathering of people who all knew Mr. Forsythe and had fond memories of his kindness. There wasn't some big thing, it was just people gathered at tables and reminiscing.

That was probably the most chic and understated thing of all.

I'm Crying A Lot These Days

2010-05-13T17:12:00.000-07:00

I don't think I can handle much more of this crying.

WATCHING GLEE:
Kurt and his Dad, the emotions, the letters K-U-R-T in big lit up letters a la GYPSY, the big dramatic solo numbers performed with tears in his eyes.

My boyfriend thought that when he sang, "Everything's Coming Up Hummel!" that he was singing "Everything's Coming Up, Homo!"

That puts a different spin on things.

These are the conversations that happen in my household. Then I start crying in bed, eating my grasshopper mint chocolate chip sandwich from MILK on Beverly Blvd when Kurt's Dad says it's just Kurt's job to be himself. I did the Naomi Campbell on Oprah ugly cry. It was bad.

And then later that night I watched THE BIGGEST LOSER on DVR. And it's that part of the season when they show the remaining five contestants the taped interviews of their formerly fat selves saying things like:

"You don't want to be back here."

"I am so proud of you. Look at how far you've come. You look great!"

"You've changed your life."

It's ridiculous. What happens to the interviews of the people who got kicked off the first week? Do they ever get to see those? It's serious waterworks. That's a great show to just clean out your eyes with. I had pink eye last week and I feel like that was better than a saline rinse. And emotionally cathartic at the same time. All I needed was an enema and I would have felt completely cleansed.

So last night on MODERN FAMILY, I just couldn't help myself because the whole surprise wedding of Phil and Claire...again, just emotional. And these are the comedies.

So I'm doing a lot of crying these days. Over the TV. I guess I just need a release.

Creativity Now

2010-05-10T22:52:00.001-07:00

I had pink eye last week.

And a boss who was incredibly paranoid.

So I had an impromptu week off to write. So I did.

I finished a spec of MODERN FAMILY in order to get a comedy job. I wrote 21 pages of a new play I wanted to start. It was a play that got rejected for a commission proposal. So since I did such a thorough job of knowing what the play is going to be, I decided to start writing it. And I've written 27 pages of it so far.

I had the outline for the Modern Family script done. I just needed time. And I got time. I asked the universe to help me. And it did. I know it all sounds weird and creepy. But whatever it is, it resulted in having a week to spend writing. And it set the course for me to keep going. So that's what I'm going to keep doing.

My boyfriend is working on a creative project downstairs.

I had rehearsal this weekend of a short play of mine. That was good. I'm going to finish half of the play by the end of this week, if not before.

Revisions of the spec this week. Ready to send so I can get some general meetings and send the script to people who like me as a writer. Execs and other decision makers.

And I want to do a reading of this new play next month with some friends. Just to hear it. Creativity now! And tomorrow! And the next day! And so on and so on and so on and so on!

I Believe

2010-04-28T21:55:00.000-07:00

Well, if Brooke Burke can go on OPRAH and talk about her "Bucket List", her list of things she wants for herself and they can come into reality, I need to get my list started.

I started visualizing the other day the good things that I want in my life. And in an effort to put myself out there, despite the fear that I might look like a food, I am going to write exactly what I want.

First of all, I want a life of fulfillment. In that life, I want a partner who is happy and healthy and brings that back to me. Then I want to pass it back to him, but with even more happiness. And I want him to then grow that happiness even further and pass it back to me again. And so on and so on. I want a healthy strong body - one that is inspired to move and dance, like I did when I was in college. I want to put thoughtful and delicious food in my mouth. I want to take the time to take care of myself and others.

I want to be a paid writer. I want to staff on a show in the next month. And I want to be employed through the next year and have an even better opportunity come to me right after that. I want to leave my current job for this new job and the next opportunity. I want to sell at least one show this year. I want to decrease my debt and increase my capacity to enjoy my life, more freely.

I want to make up inspired and fall asleep accomplished every day. I want to smile at my boyfriend and laugh hard. I want more silliness in my life. I want to enjoy my dogs more.

The job I want is writing for GLEE or MODERN FAMILY.

I want to keep writing. I want the commission I applied for from Interact. I want Ignition from Victory Gardens to do my play ON THE SUBJECT OF LILLA. And at the same time, I want it to be done at the Alliance in Atlanta.

An agent. I need an agent too. And a new car. And a cover story. It could be the cover of the Calendar Section of the LA TIMES. I wouldn't hate on that.

I want to remember that when you put something in the universe, the universe conspires to help you get it. It worked before.

Retreat

2010-04-22T23:39:00.001-07:00

I have to go to the OC for work this weekend. Well, it's work on two fronts. I'm covering a theatre festival for work. And I'm going to be meeting and socializing with a bunch of artistic directors and literary managers at theatres that I want to produce my plays.

And I've been writing a lot this year, so I have a lot to share and talk about.

I have outfits planned.

I have meals planned.

I have personalities planned. :)

I also have some quiet time planned for me to go back to my hotel room and just write and write. These things make me inspired. So I'm going to pack my car up with my computer and some adorable clothes and drive down to the OC listening to KCRW and get to work. I'm also going to work out. And run in the morning.

It's funny that my way of relaxing is to pile on a bunch of things to do. Fitting everything into my schedule.

Making it all work. Because I have a lot to do this weekend. Oy.

Falafel

2010-04-22T23:35:00.000-07:00

I just keep eating and eating. That's not good. I think I might be gaining weight.

I was just eating Falafel wrapped in a lettuce leaf with cucumbers and hot sauce. How can that be fattening?

I ate five.

Oops.

And they weren't even that good. I make these great chickpea veggie burgers that are so much better and juicier. I need to make some of those soon. Those are delicious. With onion, micro greens, grated carrots, lemon zest, and fresh herbs fried in olive oil. Delish.

How am I going to look cute when I meet all of these artistic directors and literary managers this weekend?

A big scarf to distract. And sunglasses. And lots of friends around me hugging me.

Push It

2010-04-20T21:49:00.000-07:00

Get up on this!

That's kind of how I'm feeling right now. Push it! I just finished one pilot and working on another and maybe trying to cram another spec in last minute because I don't know if the other material is working and meeting people and listening to pitches and coming up with fresh ideas and then there are the plays: the two I did in the Fall and need to rewrite and the one that's waiting to come out of me and the other that I did a commission proposal for. F-F-F-F!

I'm an artist. I try to remember that. Because I'm also the person who needs to pay my bills. But first and foremost, I'm the person who needs to write in order to make sense of the world and who needs it to be smarter and to be curious and to delight in fashioning a world of my own design. It's all of those things. Control in a world that sometimes feels vast and bigger than I can stand.

Today I have to remember to keep pushing it. To write those projects.

THE MEDEA EXPERIMENT
CURSE OF THE ASIAN CHILD
BOTTOMED OUT
SINGLED OUT
MODERN FAMILY
KEEP UP
EMPERORS

Do it. Remember what speaks to you, Loo.

More to come...

Grating Cheese

2010-04-20T17:22:00.001-07:00

I'm in the mood to grate some cheese.
I've got a lot on my mind, trying to finish some writing projects, trying to pull my shit together. I think it's time to make some enchiladas tonight.
The sauce has been resting and marinating and getting flavorful in my kitchen.
I made it nice and not spicy for my boyfriend.
It's a good traditional red sauce.
Cheese enchies with olives and green onions.
maybe a nice salad.
some black beans maybe.
just putting it all together.

The ideas tend to come out when I'm doing things like chopping and grating and frying the corn tortillas to soften them up.
I'll put on some Beyonce. Maybe the Madonna Glee Soundtrack in anticipation for tonight.
Then the boyfriend will come home.
I will present him with the enchilada tray, like some sort of Spanish language commercial or something racist on daytime TV.

"Hola, mi amor. Las Enchiladas para ti!"

"Wow. That's beautiful. For me!"

"Si! For you."

BIG SMILES. END OF COMMERCIAL.

Gleeking out on Madonna

2010-04-20T07:23:00.000-07:00

So tonight the baby gay boy in me will be in full effect. I will be watching "The Power of Madonna" episode of Glee with an ice cream sandwich with the other gay boy in my life. Memories of my childhood will come flooding back. We will be holding hands, giggling, hopefully crying at some point, and singing along.

Madonna's played a significant role in my life. I remember the first time I heard "Holiday." I was in my Mom's red subaru station wagon. We just sat there and listened. I know it didn't go further than..."gosh, I really like this BLACK singer." But it changed something for me. It meant that I would have a life long obsession with R&B music and anything that made me shake my booty.

Then I was at summer camp and someone was singing along to "Borderline." I thought: "Wow, there's that Madonna again." And then I watched the video: "Who's the cute guy in her video and where's that rooftop?" So I guess I could say that she started my obsession with cute guys and NYC. Well, that might be stretching it. I probably was obsessed with both MUCH earlier. Like birth.

Then I kind of ignored Madonna. I had the "Like a Virgin" and "Dress You Up/Angel" singles that I got at the swap meet. Yes, I am half-Mexican and went to the Santa Fe Springs Swap Meet as a child. I won't front. So I listened to Madonna, but it wasn't that big a deal. I was much more into Stacey Q and Debbie Gibson.

I thought the True Blue album cover was kind of cool. And I think the lady who drove me and my brother to school in the morning listened to the cassette tape. There were some great songs on that album and the Herb Ritts cover was amazing in retrospect, but I wasn't all that into it. I liked her transformation and my friend Alanna lent me her VHS copy of the Live in Italia concert. But I was just kind of ho-hum about Madonkey (that's what we call her).

And then came Like A Prayer.

Well, the rumor was that they filmed the Pepsi commercial in my CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL. And then I saw the video. And I was like: "Oh the irony!" And that started my obsession with irony. And black Jesuses. And choirs. Then I learned who Donna Delory and Niki Harris were (her back up singers - really the Florence Ballard and the Mary Wilson to her Diana Ross) and become obsessed with them.

Then Jennifer Richard got me the cassette tape and I was like..."holy hell, I'm a homo!" Hee hee. No, it wasn't that immediate. But I was officially drinking the Kool Aid. I got the remixes of "Express Yourself." I knew the entire dance that she did at the MTV Music Video Awards that year. I thought it was brave that she was showing her roots and I was excited that she went from dark hair in the "Like A Prayer" video to blond again. I thought it was an important social statement. Then something significant happened.

I might have expressed this in a previous post about my high school crush, but the "Express Yourself" video was the back drop for one of the most uncomfortable conversations on my life. I had to tell someone I wasn't obsessed with them. A boy. For FOUR HOURS. Why he let me talk to him for FOUR HOURS was odd and strange. And the fact that I had FOUR HOURS worth of denial in me was impressive. So I officially then became obsessed with boys. Actually, Irish boys. And look at me now...with a hot Irishman. Seriously. It's funny how Madonna has been there for so much of my life. And that I was listening to them replay a video for a song called "Express Yourself" every hour during this four hour conversation...when I was expressing myself...wow.

But Madonna taught me a lot of things too. I reflected on my own Catholicism and the hypocrisy within the Church (and became obsessed with THAT), learned who Fritz Lang was and what "Metropolis" was (the inspiration for the "Express Yourself" video), was introduced to the music of "Sly and the Family Stone" (according to Madonna, "Express Yourself" was her nod to Sly and the Family Stone. I got introduced to the work of David Fincher, who directed that video.

And then I was hooked: from "Cherish" and the mermen of the video to "Oh Father" to "Promise to Try." And then the Blond Ambition Tour which I didn't go to but heard about and listened to on the radio and watched on HBO and taped and watched obsessively. And even watched the rehearsal special on MTV and saw the performance version of "Vogue." And felt butterflies in my stomach when I watched the "Vogue" video and memorized those dances. I was so hooked.

I even gave lectures on Madonna to upper level religious studies classes as a Freshman in college to Juniors and Seniors. At my Catholic university!

She encouraged my artistry and my ambitions to work within a popular idiom. My plays all deal with identity and have an awareness of pop culture in style, in language and just as a part of the world they live in. Sometimes that influence is right up there at the forefront. Sometimes it's less so.

I've Gleeked out enough for one post. But I'll probably do so again. She's amazing and I love her. I'm glad I got to grow up in the era of Madonna. Doesn't that make me sound so old? But it's true. It's had such a major influence over me in so many ways.

Just paying homage.

My Problem with my Status Update

2010-04-20T00:03:00.001-07:00

It's crazy to me when someone I haven't seen in a while starts talking to me about what's been going on in my life, as if they're explaining it to me. And just when it starts to get really annoying, I remember...

Oh, I put that in my status update, didn't I?

"Oh, so you've already seen pictures of my niece."

"Right. I did do flights of bourbon in Louisville with my friends Emily, Kory and Sarah."

"Sorry. I did take the Lord's name in vain last week."

IN some ways it's good to have a status update repeat your status back to you in the form of a friend who reminds you of how busy you are and how much writing you've been doing lately. I've never noticed that I'm an incredibly prolific, wide-ranging, nimble writer before. Seriously. I'm usually really busy freaking out about deadlines and feeling like a loser to realize how productive I'm being. So thank you, status update for that.

And I notice people congratulating me on how productive I am. That's a boost. It makes my life seem more interesting than I find it. And it gives me the opportunity to be witty a lot.

My status update helps me remember how many people in my life are fans of either RuPaul's Drag Race or The Real Housewives of New York City or Glee. Then it reminds me of how many gay people I know.

Lots.

Actually, it doesn't seem like I have a problem with my status update.

Except maybe that it means I don't hear my friends' voices as much as I used to.

Asian Five Way

2010-04-19T23:39:00.000-07:00

Tonight I had dinner and drinks with four other Asian friends. Julia, who I know from NYU who's a famous playwright and TV writer, her husband Ed who's also a good friend, my friend Paula who's a TV writer and their friend Florence - who they have in common. Originally I was supposed to get together with Paula, then she mentioned that Florence was in town and wanted to bring her friend Julia - who I happened to know.

It was definitely true of tonight, but is always true of when I hang out with other Asian people, that I am reminded of how Asian I am when I hang with other Asians. The conversation always turns around to food, deals on food, great restaurants and we're always on time. Or early.

I also noticed that we all go out of our way to thank our servers and be nice to our bartenders. Which all people should do anyway, but there's a certain graciousness that I don't always find in people. It's a sweetness.

My boyfriend always complains about how loud I am and I feel quieter when I'm with Asians as well. It's very interesting.

Back to that graciousness and sweetness...it reminds me of all of my Asian cousins and my relatives. I can think of all of my Asian family and reflect on that sweetness. And the wanting to feed everyone or share food and share conversation. I guess it's familiar to me, so it feels like the way that people should act. It really does feel that way.

I hate when people are greedy or territorial over their food. I'm going to eat off your plate and I may or may not ask. But you're welcome to do that to me as well. My Auntie Dolly always said, "Don't be shy" and "there is plenty." I love that sort of generosity. It's an inherent kindness that is so nurturing. It's milky and luxurious...if I had to describe it in a texture or a feel.

With the Latin part of myself, it's all about fire and spice and fragrance. It's the smell of food cooking - onions and carne asada and corn. Those are some of my favorite smells. But I'll save that for another post another time.

It was a nice evening full of chiming in and gathering. I guess that's also very Southern, which is why I get along with my friends from the South so well, I suppose.

What is going to make me feel better?

2010-04-19T17:59:00.000-07:00

Frankly, I've been getting massive enjoyment from turning on music in my kitchen and making tacos. Last night was pretty amazing. I had five tacos with homemade turkey taco meat. I've been watching Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution on ABC and telling myself that it's not about eating salads and veg, but it's about making things myself. So it's perfectly okay if I'm making chicken fingers and homemade ketchup and french fries. I'm not buying the processed shit. It's the new health food. Just make it yourself, no matter how much butter, oil, sugar or fat. Just imagine how much MORE fat there would be if you got it through the drive-thru.

Yes, it's not as good as a raw food diet. But it's not as bad as McDonald's every day. I mean, that is what's driving American towards obesity. And I'm not anywhere near obese.

Five tacos? It's not like I finished the entire box of taco shells. That would be sad.

Brain food. That's the other thing I tell myself. It's brain food. And I'm doing A LOT of writing these days. I deserve it. It's a reward. More things I tell myself that just keep me eating.

I'm a taco freak. What can I say? That and fried rice and tostadas are things I like to make for myself when I'm not feeling great. Or when I want something fast. Or when I'm watching a favorite TV show. Or when I'm having a childhood memory.

Okay, so those are the things I like to eat whenever, wherever, however.

Whatever.

Choosing Between My Fabulous Mythical Gay Body and My Fabulous Semi-Factual Gay Wit

2010-04-19T09:04:00.000-07:00

I have this constant battle going on in my head of this person I think I am vs. the person I think I could become. It's the:

BATTLE OF THE MYTHICAL GAY BODY VS. MY SEMI-FACTUAL GAY WIT

And it isn't about my body or wit being gay, but it the fact that this is even a topic of blogging IS so gay. I always say that I can't do two things at once - try to get to the gym three days a week and yoga at least once plus two days of running AND write every night. So I make a choice. And while I make that choice, I inevitably make two or three hundred bad choices.

Like last night's Doritos Nachos with Turkey Taco Meat and Cheddar Cheese. Plus tons of Tapatio hot sauce. But wait, I always heard that spicy foods speed up the metabolism. Is that a total myth? Because I base my diet choices on that. And I forgot to mention one thing: I ate this at 11 PM. I don't have a sweet tooth, but I do like to eat.

Update on the body: it's not bad. I've got a little more pooch than I'd like, but it's not protruding. This is another myth I tell myself. As long as it's not protruding, I can fluctuate. As long as I don't have to buy new pants, I'm fine. And the time I did have to buy new pants, I decided to run a marathon. But it's not just about the body, I guess. It's about clarity and it's about setting up routine again. It's about achieving something. I'm tired of coming close to things and not getting them in the rest of my life. I have a passable body. I can go to the beach with my shirt off. I have nice legs. The face is good. But it's ALMOST there - well, almost minus 7-10% more body fat loss and my current weight minus five actual pounds with way more muscle mass.

Yes, I live in West Hollywood and I realize that's a factor. A big factor. A big big factor. The fact that I'm becoming a big factor is a big factor. Gosh, I want an omelette right now.

But I'm writing, so that's good, right? Productive. Productive and good for the mind. It's important to keep the mind active to ward off the Alzheimer's, which is what my grandmother had before she died. So as long as I don't get that or dementia, I should be good.

Another myth...

Trick Me Again, MPK!

2010-04-12T22:36:00.000-07:00

Necessary info:
MPK - Michael Patrick King
SJP - Sarah Jessica Parker
S&TC - Sex and the City

So another thing I've been watching on repeat is the new Sex and the City trailer. It's good, right? It just reminds me what a sucker I am for those characters. I saw the first trailer for the first movie and I was excited because it had been four years and the movie was something a lot of us thought would never happen. We should have known by the trailer and the poster that it might not be the greatest follow up of all times. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed seeing "the girls" back in "the City", but overall the movie was a bit long and sad. While I admire what MPK was doing and I think there was some excellent storytelling, I was left a little empty inside. I thought the costuming was good, but it just felt like the TV show on the big screen in certain ways and not all of those ways translated. Again, I'm a huge fan and will forgive anything.

So fast forward two years to the sequel. Well, the minute I saw the teaser poster with SJP in the aviators and the white Halston with the bedazzled number 2...I drooled a little bit. I knew we were in for some over the top outrageousness. Then the first trailer...it was a tease, but more info was shared than in the teaser trailer for the first movie. It had some clips, it looked good, "Empire State of Mind" was used effectively. We knew they were going to the desert, there was an over the topness about that trip.

Then I waited four months. FOUR MONTHS!!!!! For a damn trailer. And just when my patience was used up, we got the new trailer last Thursday. And I does NOT disappoint. Let me tell you. It's fucking great.

Let me illustrate the battle between the rational mind and the maniac that I am for this show.

The trailer starts with more shots of New York and "Empire State of Mind." I think: "Really? This started out just like the last one." Then: Oh My God! The girls are back! One, two, three four! They're back, they're back, they're back!!!! Thank God Then I hear "It's been two years..." Oh My God! VOICEOVER! It has been two years! two long years, SJP. Why couldn't you just do another series to hold us over. Five episodes would have done me just fine! We see the girls in action. Lily is driving Charlotte crazy and puts two red handprints on her white pants. Then Carrie gives Big a watch. They're both looking a little haggard and old. Are you sure it's only been two years and not twenty because you look old. But just when my cynical self starts to take over, the girls are back at brunch with the kids and Charlotte wonders how Samantha is going to swallow all of her anti-aging pills. And Samantha replies with: Have We Met? Oh God! That Kim Catrall is so amazing. Can they all be nominated for the Oscar already? Then more funny lines and the whole "We need to work on the Sparkle." And Just when I think I've seen it all...LIZA LIZA LIZA LIZA!!!!! It's got a Z in it!

What does happen after you say "I Do", Carrie? Then they decide to go to Abu Dabi and the music changes. They're in the dessert. Okay, turbans. Hammer pants. The fashion show in the middle of the trailer. I get it. A few more jokes. I'm starting to get board then I see...what is it that I see? I see Carrie in a J'Adore Dior tee and a ball skirt and a tan man who strangely looks like...

AIDEN! Are you fucking kidding me? She's going to go through this shit again? It's Aiden vs. Big? Really? Come on! Haven't go gotten over Aiden! He's back and he's amazing and oh God, I love him. And is he going to fuck this all up? It'll be fun to watch because all of Carrie's ridiculous behavior is so amazing and oh god, I'm going to faint. Can I get a glass of water? I'm lightheaded. Really, I'm going to faint it's just too much! too much of a good thing!

So I really don't calm down for the rest of the trailer. And even though I think the Aiden thing might be a little dumb and too convenient, I just can't wait to see them together and to see her be temped and for it to get all messed up. But this time the movie seems like more of a romp (as they've said in many interviews). It's going to be so good! Oh Jesus, what will I wear on opening night? I want May 27th to come now!

And all hope is lost. I love the girls. I can't wait to see them again.

My DVR is an Emotional Library

2010-04-12T22:30:00.000-07:00

Is it sad or admitting too much about myself to say that my DVR acts as a playlist of emotions that I draw from as I sit down to write?

Let me tell you what I mean. I'm working on this pilot right now and the one thing missing overall are these emotional interactions and intimate moments between an husband and a wife. On tonight's Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood, I was witness to their marital problems and their desire to keep their marriage together and to stay connected. I watched Dancing with the Stars and saw Pam Anderson's and Niecy Nash's emotional rumbas. It's like some people listen to music to get in a certain mood. This is the music I listen to when I need to get into a mood with a scene I'm writing. Its a bit sad and pathetic and too convenient an excuse when my boyfriend asks me why I'm watching the same scene from Real Housewives of NYC over and over again. But it's really said when Ramona tells Bethenny that she has no friends except for her then fiance (now husband) Jason and that she'll probably screw that up too. And to hear Bethenny beg Jill to just listen to her...well, I'm crying now. It really gets me in the mood to write some real characters. Thank you, reality TV. Sorry WGA. But I'm not in the union yet and this is great research.

Knowing What's Best

2010-04-07T23:13:00.001-07:00

I love the internet sometimes. When I'm feeling like I need advice or support I put something in my status update and all of a sudden my 566 friends are there for me. I don't feel so lost. You know how people like to talk about putting an intention out into the universe. Well, putting something in a status update is basically putting that intention out x the number of friends you have.

You have to know what's best for you. It's a lesson the universe keeps trying to teach me and I keep working hard to ignore. My therapist reminded me that when I applied to graduate school, no one read my play and I trusted myself completely. And look what it got me: a full ride to NYU.

I have to trust myself. We all have to trust ourselves. We know in our hearts when we are being truthful with ourselves. And we have to act on that more often. We'd be a hell of a lot happier.

I want an agent and I want a career. But I'm not trusting myself. My boyfriend keeps telling me that. And I don't want to listen. Here's someone who has faith in me and I'm not listening. What's the matter with me? I'd rather listen to people who don't really have my best interest in mind. And when someone pays me a complement or says they're impressed with me, I'm skeptical.

I'm not going to do that any more. I had drinks with my friend David last week and he's doing a lot of that. I'm hoping he stops soon. Because I'm sure his life would be better and more fulfilling if he would just stop listening to the voice in his head that tells him he can't or shouldn't or that it will never happen.

I'm musing tonight because I know I have some notes to take down. And I'm procrastinating. But I'm also doing a lot of soul searching. I've given up too much control when I shouldn't. I'm better than that. I think a lot of us are better than we give ourselves credit.

We need to ask ourselves what we want and start doing something to get us there.

Putting Gas in the Tank

2010-03-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

Sorry, True Believers, I have been absent from my blog space for about 9 days because I've been in pilot writing mode. My eyes are bloodshot, my lids are heavy and I'm at the office doing my day job. I dressed up though. I'm wearing my favorite shirt from Hawes and Curtis, a London based shirtmaker. And nice dress pants. Looking professional because I just did a very professional thing last night and I finished this script. In a week. So before I get to the task of going through the script and finding the holes, I need to take a moment.

This weekend I have a very important task. I need to fill the tank. The love tank. The creative tank. The fitness tank. Actually, I have about three tanks to fill, I guess.

The love tank. The bf and I are going to grab some movies and some meals this weekend. We had a good week and met with a client of his on some projects he wants to pitch. So when I thought all I had to give was to the pilot, I had even more I needed to give. That was good though. I think I might have an idea ready to pitch come development season. But this weekend needs to be about hanging out.

The creative tank. Going to the art museum, watching movies, eating exciting food, catching up on TV shows.

And the fitness tank. All of this writing means all of this EATING. I've been happily stuffing my face. But now it's time to make up for it and get in shape for the marathon which is staffing season. Meetings, outfits, etc.

Anyway...that's the latest and greatest. More to come. Probably this weekend while I'm filling up the tank.

What is Good Writing?

2010-03-10T10:35:00.000-08:00

I'm a writer.
I think I know what good writing is.
My opinion comes more from reading than it does from my MFA.
This came up yesterday and this morning with my boyfriend and this application
he's putting together where he needs to write a personal statement.
The thing to know about my boyfriend is that he's very smart and well spoken.
He went to the University of Virginia. THE University.
So he's a brain and very impressive.
And he has a command of the language and loves big words.

This is the thing that I, personally, know about writing. And I'm only speaking for myself.
I believe good writing is economical. For me, it's not about how many five dollar words you use or even how many words you use, period. It's more about how
much feeling can you pour into expression using the least amount of words possible.
But the most important thing is that it sounds like you.
But just a real expensive, more articulate
version of you.
It's kind of like being Carrie Bradshaw.

And I love how my boyfriend expresses himself...
Well, I love HIM, so when I looked at his personal statement,
I wasn't excited.
Because it sounded so remote. And abstract. Nothing about
the language he was using felt like I wanted
to get to know more about him. Mainly because
there was very little about him personally in that statement.

Well, then I have to have that conversation.
Actually, I get out of the conversation by sending
the less uncomfortable email
because I'm a coward.
But I sound very authoritative in my cowardly email.

And he comes back with something that sounds so professional,
but so personal at the same time. And that to me is good writing.

I love vernacular. I love voice patterns.
I love how people aren't aware of what's coming out of their mouths,
but their body language gives them away.

That's why I love certain reality TV shows because
it's such a great dramatist's lesson.
I know, it sounds blasphemous. But it's "real" life being played out.
And by the time people are filming multiple seasons,
they are no longer guarded about having breakdowns or
"private" conversations on camera. It's a real master class sometimes.
For real.
Ha ha.

Good writing is writing that you aren't always aware of.
Just like good directing or good acting.
It makes you feel and it's clever,
but it's insightful in a way that
feels familiar and fresh at the same time.
It's language that brings us closer, not by
commanding but by persuading.
It doesn't always draw attention to itself.
But can when the moment is necessary.
It says things that everyone can understand
and makes everyone feel a bit more
insightful for agreeing with the sentiment.
It's just good.

Now back to the good writing that I'm trying to work on.

Make Me A Celebrity Blogger

2010-03-08T19:18:00.000-08:00

I have the feeling this part of my blogging history will be referred to as

"Getting his bearings"

I'm not always sure what to write. It's a bit of a potpourri at this point. Maybe I'll land on a style or a format at some point. Right now, it's just whatever comes to mind. Some funny. Some poetic. Some tragic. Some words that are not my own.

But it would be fun to have people listen to what I have to say, right? It's kind of more immediate that the writing the scripts thing, although I'm still doing that of course. It's just getting some thoughts out there, which may not be useful to anyone other than myself.

But some times its nice just to type. It's therapeutic and relaxing. And I promise to try and make it funny as well.

Reprinting: My Cousin put this on his Facebook Today

2010-03-08T19:10:00.000-08:00

Not sure where this came from, but my cousin Alan put this up on his Facebook page and it made me think of growing up. And this says a lot about the Hawaiian spirit. And a lot of my personality comes from the fact that my Dad was raised in Hawaii.

I included some translations in parenthesis:

Friends vs. Hawaiian Friends

FRIENDS: Never ask for food.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Always bring the food.

FRIENDS: Will say "hello".
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Will give you a big hug and a kiss.

FRIENDS: Call your parents Mr. and Mrs.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Call your parents’ mom and dad.

FRIENDS: Have never seen you cry.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Cry with you.

FRIENDS: Will eat at your dinner table and leave.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Will spend hours talking, laughing, and just being together....then help clean-up when all pau (finished)!

FRIENDS: Know a few things about you.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Could write a book with direct quotes.

FRIENDS: Will leave you behind if that's what the crowd is doing.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Will kick the whole crowd's okoles (butts) that left you.

FRIENDS: Would knock on your door.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Walk right in and say, "I'm home!"

FRIENDS: Get mad when you don't stay in contact.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Years could go by and you pick up like it was yesterday.

FRIENDS: Come and go.
HAWAIIAN FRIENDS: Are family.

That was pretty heartwarming. just thought I'd share a little generosity of the Hawaiian spirit that my cousin shared with me.

Oscar Recap: Coffee Editioin

2010-03-08T09:02:00.000-08:00

I'm at Akasha, my little coffee shop near the office, and I'm listening to a group of ladies, probably in their 40s, give their little recap of the Oscars. They're really breaking it down. Well, they had their little Sex & The City moment by talking about their lives and families. Then they needed to talk about something lighter and moved onto the Oscars. Breaking it down, their little Fashion Police recap in Culver City. You should have heard the things they had to say about Charlize Theron. You'd think one of them was a former editor at VOGUE. Maybe one of them was. It's interesting to listen to actual women actually talking and the things we all get together with our girlfriends to talk about.

Now, just need to replicate that in this script I'm working on. Thanks for the reminder ladies. THey're even efficient. They sat down 10 minutes ago and then did their quick recap and now they're off for the rest of their days. I think they just got out of yoga class.

And now two of them are chatting on their own to network. It's literally like a live webisode!

Imagine that. :)

Procrastination

2010-03-05T10:39:00.001-08:00

I do not want to do work.
I write and write and write.
just need to remember
it's like breathing.
and if I stop
I will die.
cheerful thought.

Am I Entertaining Enough?

2010-03-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I worry that these blogs are just me rambling on about the minutae of my life. I'm not curing cancer here. And I have that childhood thing of needing to be funny and clever and witty and sparkly at all times. Just a question I'm throwing out there.

Trying to give you blogosphere realness.

Hot Nude Yoga: The Return Week 3 of 4

2010-03-05T09:32:00.001-08:00

There's nothing that puts me in a better mood than talking about Nude Yoga. Well, I guess DOING Nude Yoga would put me in a better mood.

Week Three.
I was feeling the benefits of the practice in my daily life. My energy was up, I was feeling more productive. I was writing a lot and feeling vital (I should get my ASS back into class). It reminded me a bit of when I was doing P90X, but my energy didn't necessarily just spike. It sustained. And I just felt more intuned with my body. Plus I would come come and try out what I learned on my boyfriend, which I think he enjoyed. And still does.

There's something about pressing your body weight on someone that takes consideration, attention, care and thought. It is a sensual experience in that way. I guess in our definition of sensuality and sexuality, it seems weird that you would be naked and paying attention to someone in a way that doesn't lead to you having sex to that person. But that's what I enjoy about the workshop. It allows us to face some of our prejudices, then tear them down. Or hold on to them, I guess. That would be the other option. Just get caught up in judgment. But for me, I really tried to put that aside.

And this week was difficult in particular in that regard. There was an older, short Mexican man who was my partner the first week and I always felt he was trying to cue himself up to be my partner again. If I'm speaking honestly, I would say that he's not really my type. And that's not what it's about, but I also wanted to connect with some other people. The point of the workshop isn't to partner with one person the whole time. But then again, maybe that was my projecting. So I partnered with him and just focused on the practice.

Since the workshop, I haven't been doing much yoga. I try and exercise as much as possible, but nothing centers me like the practice. I need to get back into it and shift my energy around.

No More Junk Food

2010-03-05T07:09:00.000-08:00

I eat junk food when I'm depressed or overwhelmed. Who doesn't? Probably the healthy people who are at the gym at 5 AM, on the treadmill, watching Headline News. Those people. Healthy in body, feeding the mind, keeping sharp. Not me. At least not today. Feeling a bit mentally lumpy. Intellectually skinny fat. I just need to streamline.

Last night I had fried mozzerella with french dressing. And a frozen pizza I dipped in the french dressing. Ugh. That's not good.

I'm trying to get these writing projects done and it feels like I've been on the treadmill of an aspiring writing career for too long. My legs are burning. I know I need to get back on, but gosh, it just feels like my leg muscles should be developed by now and I should be reading to run that marathon. And run it in great time. Under three hours. But it's only my first one. So maybe under four is more realistic.

What does this metaphor mean? Keep training. Keep your eye on the prize. Do it every day. Don't get caught up in what it means for the rest of the race. Focus on Mile One. Then Two. Then three.

I actually ran a marathon. I should know this. And not as a metaphor. Sorry for the whining. Was feeling a bit alone today.

Putting my running shoes on aka my thinking cap aka my writer's brain. I'm going for a run. Not letting myself get buried in a stack of fried cheese.

Naked Birthing

2010-03-04T14:11:00.000-08:00

I guess the straights needed to have their own version of Nude Yoga at some point.

My friend Marc was telling me yesterday that he heard about this phenomenon among pregnant couples called "Naked Birthing." And it's exactly what it sounds like. Women giving birth while naked. What's sexy about that? Answer: Your husband getting naked too so that you feel comfortable...? I understand natural birth, but au naturel birth? That might be too much.

What? Do you think that the baby's going to feel weird with all these people with clothes on? Are you trying to reduce the level of shame? It's not like that dream you have where you show up to school naked and everyone else is wearing clothes. In my own similar dreams, I'm usually just pantsless. Never fully naked. Maybe I'm self-conscious of my pec development even in REM. More therapy on that matter soon.

The way it was described to me is that the father also wants to share in the experience and lay the baby on his bare chest. I guess straight Dad's aren't ashamed of their pec development. What kind of crazy bullshit is this? And what do the doctor's think? And what does this have to do with baby development? I kind of get the birth underwater because it makes the transition from womb to world a bit easier. But this makes no sense.

Then again, I'm gay. I could probably be naked doing just about anything else other than giving birth. Which I can't do anyways. Along with getting married. Another post for another time. :)

What's More Boring Than...

2010-03-02T12:11:00.000-08:00

Talking about theatre?

Nothing.

And I'm what you could call a contemporary American Playwright. I'm so contemporary, that I'm not even all that well produced. I am so up-and-coming that I've barely gotten up.

I'm a theatre geek. Self-professed. I love talking about Tony Kushner and I love staying home with my Albee anthology from 1966-77. I even have stupid, for me only geek references to Albee, Caryl Churchill and Wendy Wasserstein in the new pilot I'm writing. I'm heading to the Humana Festival at the end of the month where I'm going to gush, ridiculously about dramaturgy over bourbon flights. I'm not saying I'm the BIGGEST theatre geek. I would never say that. Heavens, no.

But even I get annoyed with pointless articles that are written like:

"Playwrights Migrate to TV" (Wall Street Journal)
"The Most Important Plays Ever" (or something ridiculous like that from Denver Post)
"The Female Playwrights Taking British Theatre by Storm" (Telegraph/UK)

And there was some TCG bullshit article talking about theatre development of new plays, etc. It's bullshit because it seems like theatres are making themselves obsolete. And you can't just put a facebook reference or add a podcast to your website to make yourself relevant. It's kind of old news and who cares about who's not writing for theatre. Stop with the articles, start with the finding new exciting ways for people to see theatre.

Talking about the traditional model of regional and off-Broadway theatres is old and tired. Let's find new ways to get plays done. And that can be done on the cheap. And it's not about a You Tube video, because that's old and tired too.

Bitching about tired articles about tired ways of producing theatre is tired.

Hot Nude Yoga: The Return - Week 2 of 4

2010-03-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

DISCLAIMER: This series, HOT NUDE YOGA THE RETURN is intended for mature audiences and people who are not related to me or my boyfriend. :)

So it's Week Two and I'm actually really into this workshop at this point. My energy is different. I'm not getting tired throughout the day. My energy is very even and I've got an abundance of it. Wow, didn't realize that a few tugs on the balls and some breathing could do that. But I guess that's the point of this workshop: education.

So I get in, take my clothes off, say hello to Bill, my floormate who has his mat next to me and get ready for some...

PENIS REFLEXOLOGY.

What? Flash forward twenty minutes and now we're all standing up and doing penis reflexology. It's like regular reflexology, but instead of the foot...so the philosophy is that there are pressure points that respond to parts of the body that can be reached when massaging the penis.

We were instructed to put our thumbs on top of the shaft of the "sex organ" (I'm still laughing at some of the terminology...yes, I'm ten) and to move the thumbs up and down the length...my mind goes blank.

Uh...are we masturbating?

I look around. Yep. Across the room, there's a tall blond, swimmer's build guy. Arthur. I only remember his name over a month later because he's got the distinction of being the first guy I've seen in my Hot Nude Yoga practice where I'm like "hubba hubba." But I'm determined to not let that interfere with my Tantric Yoga and Sexual Kung Fu practice. So back to my penis reflex--uh oh. Hot guy and penis reflexology feels a bit dirty. So I look at the short Mexican guy next to him. He looks like he could be an uncle.

Back to Arthur.

The reflexology is supposed to be a lengthening exercise. Yesterday, I was on the internet and happened upon a technique called Jelqing, which is supposed to be another lengthening technique that doesn't involve pumps or meds. Anyway, for more info on that Google "jelqing." Fascinating. So in the interest of making my boyfriend happy, I've been practicing a lot of reflexology since the workshop: education.

Before getting to the partner work, I should mention that Dana said something at the top of class that he's never said before:

"Just because you're rubbing someone's butt, doesn't mean you can touch their asshole. And just because you're rubbing their inner thigh, doesn't mean you can grab their dick."

What? Did we have an asshole/dick incident last week? We've never had a warning before. So I started out class a little shameful, which had evaporated by the time I got to reflexology. So we're doing our normal partner coda and I'm paired up with a really sweet older guy and we have a great partner session. But then Loren offers some alternatives that involve rubbing the sex organ against someone's butt. We're not told to actually DO these exercises, but that's just information for at home practice with our lovers. A bit contradictory to the whole, don't stick your chocolate in someone's peanut butter conversation at the top of class.

Aside from that, another good class. Actually because of all of that, another good class. Just another mindful week of serious nude yoga practice.

My 10 Minute Play is Being Produced

2010-03-01T21:50:00.000-08:00

It's funny because I do love validation. But when I put on Facebook that my 10-minute play was being produced by a theatre in San Diego, I got really shy. Like, "Oh, it's no big deal. It's just a 10-minute play. Oh, whatever." What the fuck is wrong with me? If I can't enjoy my success, I'm going to have a pretty miserable life because I intend on being very successful. :)

It just reminds me to focus on removing the negative from my life. I say things that I don't think are negative because I've said them to myself my whole life. I have a 10 minute play that's being produced. Yippee! That's awesome. Period.

God, sometimes I can be such an idiot. And my friends are happy for me and have Facebooked about it. That's sweet.

So for the record, I'm excited. I think it's just the first of many great professional things to happen this year. Now back to writing and pausing "Kell on Earth" in order to write some more. I will be blogging about "Kell on Earth" soon, as well as the Modern Family panel I went to. I've got lots to blog about. I can't wait!

I need a foot rub.

Hot Nude Yoga: The Return - Week 1 of 4

2010-02-26T00:57:00.000-08:00

Okay, so go back and read Hot Nude Yoga: The Return - Prologue to get caught up. This is part 1 of 4.

So as you remember, I spoke with my therapist about my nerves in taking this yoga workshop

TANTRIC YOGA AND SEXUAL KUNG FU

As you could understand, I'm sure. I just didn't want to be penetrated.

I mean, right? I'm not a spit on the hand kinda guy. Not to be crude, but this is Loo's View and it's not always a clean view. Sometimes there's a bit of dirt on the rosebud colored sunglasses.

I think my main concern is that I'd embarrass myself. I was the kid who would be the butt of the joke. So if I was with a group of classmates and they said, let's go skinny dipping, I'm the kid who would be game and would turn a bright shade of red when I realized that I was the first one with the clothes off and in the water. And everyone was just interested to see who the first fool to drop trou. Well, that kid is me. Always has been. I'm a little too game for anything.

So I was having flashbacks to being fourteen and being the awkward, gawky skeletal kid. So I didn't want to be the first kid to get excited while everyone was perfectly in control (i.e. flaccid). Well, rest assured, kids. I wasn't.

CHECK POINT 1: THIS WOULD THE POINT IN THE BLOG THAT ANYONE WHO IS A FACEBOOK FRIEND/RELATIVE OF MY BOYFRIEND SHOULD STOP AND THINK VERY CAREFULLY. IF YOUR OPINION OF ME IS GOING TO CHANGE HEARING ABOUT MY NUDE OBSERVATIONS IN YOGA CLASS, THEN TURN BACK NOW.

For the rest of you (hee, hee...btw, I think my late grandmother Mona would be listening, ears akimbo. She loved this sort of stuff. Just hearing her voice in my head saying "Oh, get out! Ay, loco!" makes me want to cry)...

The class is crowded, btw. With people who basically are hoping that this turns into a circle jerk. Not to be crass...well, actually I enjoy being crass. But that's seriously what was going on. We were about 25 crammed in that place. A lot of Lookie Loos (no pun intended). AND I WAS ONE OF THEM. The thing that I actually love about my Not Nude Yoga practice is that I get really into the feeling of the yoga practice and being in my own body. As much as there might be eye candy around me, it makes me incredibly internal.

So Loren is the guy leading the class. And Dana, my favorite yogi in his Brooklynese, is there helping out to adjust us and lead us through the yoga stuff. I talk about Dana in my Season One musings about HNY. He's a breath of fresh air. So these two cute guys are leading the class and we start out with what's called Breath of Fire which is like hyperventilating. And Belly Breathing, where we're supposed to extend out stomachs out while we're inhaling. At that point, all vanity has to go out the window. Because that shit looks cute on someone with a six pack, but someone like me with a smooth tummy...well, I look like an ad from Save the Children. Sorry. But that's the visual.

At this point, it just feels like a lot of nude lamaze. Then Loren tells us to grab our testicles.

CHECK POINT 2: NO, REALLY IN-LAWS. PLEASE STOP READING NOW.

What you're supposed to do is gently pull on your testicles in accordance to your age. So if you're 25, then it's 25 times. So I start tugging...hey, nice. And it's good for the health and energy flow and it feels good. Okay. I'm getting into it. Then he has us grab our "friend" and flop it up and down, so that it's slapping around. Okay, now I feel like I'm five and I'm in my Underroos. This is a bit silly. Then he excitedly says a phrase that I will never forget:

"This is where the man juice comes from." Snot flies out of my nose. I swear, it's snot.

Is it inappropriate to laugh so hard your side hurts in yoga class? Isn't there a connection between enlightenment and humor? I'm considering myself incredibly enlightened at this point. And actually, I'm feeling relaxed and I'm enjoying myself. It's kind of silly, but it's enjoyable. I'm smiling.

Then he says that sometimes about how this is when people can start getting aroused. Well, that just did it. It just went from silly to something else. And yes, at this point, I did look around. And yes, it's what you expect. So I won't go into further detail. I'm sure your dirty minds can do a much better job than I can at painting a pretty darn good picture.

And that was about five minutes. Other exercises happened. Very sincere exercises.

So once things settled down, we continued with our practice. Stretching and downward dogging and letting our minds empty out. It was incredibly meditative. I guess this is the part where I should say that I get a lot from this practice. And this a humorous blog, which means no disrespect to this practice. But I actually do believe that enlightenment and humor are connected. We can't take ourselves so seriously. We can't be so quick to judge. And there's no quicker way to get rid of judgment than to strip down, expose your short or not so short comings and just breathe. Get over it, right?

We then went through a series of exercises, which can be better explained on Loren's website, www.rawtantra.com. And we finished up with partner work. The partner yoga was a lot of thai massage, which is a lot of pressure and release (not that kind of release). I learned a lot. I love massage. Giving and getting. For me, it's about the healing quality of touch. It just feels good. It's simple. Not a lot of thought or analyzing to that. It just feels good. I think that was the lesson of this workshop. Yeah, it's fun and silly and profound and educational and feels good. It made me focus on being present.

But the massage part was great because I learned that I don't have to cramp up my hands giving my boyfriend a massage. I can use my body to apply pressure that feels good, but doesn't tire me out. And it is sensual to lay your body on someone. It's connection.

So I left the workshop not feeling nervous. And not being penetrated unexpectantly and unwillingly. But with a sense of energy and awareness that carried me into that week and lead to an incredible amount of productivity in that following week. It was pretty amazing.

And I left with a smile on my face. Enlightened.

Late Night with the Dogs

2010-02-26T00:40:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling like I'm coming down with the cold that everyone has. So I am here, sleeping downstairs in our "man cave": the downstairs home office with the 26" screen that doubles as a computer monitor, watching the episode of "The Wendy Williams Show" that her parents were on. It's like a warm foot rub to me. Comfort.

I'm drinking a tea made with chinese herbs, much like the tea my Dad used to make us when we had a cold. But when we were kids, he would boil up the herbs and stink up the house. I think the tea tasted so disgusting to us because smelled it. This is just from an eye dropper. You drop three droppers full in hot water. It's not so bad. And it does the same thing. The funny thing is that I was raised in a homeopathic family just because that's what people did. Home remedies is what they used to call it. I think the reason I don't get as sick as Wes is because I have lots of garlic and ginger in my diet and I love rest. My body tells me what it needs and I am too happy to pay attention.

Now if I could get that body to love exercise so that it could look like a million bucks, that'd be great. Right now it's at about 750K. Not horrible, but not stellar. I give good face and that counts for about 500K.

Where was I going with this? Oh, nowhere probably. Just that it's nice that the dogs are sleeping next to me while Wes is upstairs luxuriating in his stank germs watching Spartacus. He's getting over his cold and I'm glad he gave up the man cave tonight. I'm trying to stay away from his germs and just let me body rest so the germs in me don't start getting any ideas.

It's also comforting to work on this blog in the dark. It's nice and easy during a week that was anything but. Happy to be home. Wish I could have my arms around the man I love. But I don't want his cold!

We'll save the cuddling for this weekend in Palm Springs.

Make Me a Bravolebrity

2010-02-25T10:58:00.000-08:00

Is that how you spell it? Bravolebrity? As in Bravo Celebrity? These mash up phrases totally confuse me. Just when I thought I had a grasp of the English language that I mastered back in the 4th grade. Now this. Oy!

I think my life has really been influenced by my avid watching of reality TV shows on Bravo. It's kind of like doing impersonations, but this is more like an attitude impersonation. Here are some examples:

I was watching part of a Real Housewives of New York City marathon from Season One this morning while I was getting ready for work. Then I saw Bethenny Frankel on Wendy Williams this morning. And I instantly got in that sort of quasi-entrepreneurial/I'm gonna kick your ass/Eyes on the Prize mode that both Jill Zarin and Bethenny get into. I came in my office and got some shit organized and set some priorities for the day. All good things. But it was done with a bit of a flourish and some sass. I was doing a subtle drag version of Bethenny/Jill Zarin that no one but me was aware of. To the outside world, I was probably just being bitchy.

I put on a tight sweater today, I had the big sunglasses on...I had a "conference call" this morning with my friend Susan while on the way into the office this morning. I probably thought there were cameras on me in the car. I started giving her advice on her life in little snippets that would be great in a teaser ad for next week's episode of

LOOnacy: The Entertaining Life of an Aspiring Somebody

Oooh. That IS good.

But I said things like:

"You don't talk about him (her boyfriend who's moving cross country) all the time because you're finally in a place where you're secure and you don't have to pretend like it's all okay. Like BLAH BLAH BLAH my BOYFRIEND, my boyfriend, my boyfriend."

and

"If his boxes had come weeks before he got there, you'd be freaking out because that's what people do."

These grand statements that have no credibility or value. But that sound really good an confident in a 30-second spot. I was chock full of them this morning.

It's all due to Bravo. It's changed the way I relate to the world.

Brava!, Bravo.

Procrastination Nation

2010-02-22T21:58:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to write
and I'm a little scared
and I'm staring at a blank page
and I really want to get this
shit done. I want it to be brilliant and
I'm just not in that head space.

So instead I listen to Elvis Mitchell interviewing
Colin Firth.

And type in my blog.

Hello.

Embrace me. I need the good energy to move forward.

Curves

2010-02-22T17:28:00.000-08:00

In the category of things I have no business commenting on...

CURVES

I just was walking down the street near my office and saw a plain looking woman, a bit heavyset, walking around the building where Curves is and looking around. Then I saw her slip in quickly. Like a cat burglar.

Before the doors shut behind her, I saw what the inside of a Curves looks like. Usually, I walk by and see the blacked out windows and think that maybe it's an incubator for vampires. Or some weird sex club. It just seemed like a front to me. But in the three second quick peek I got, I saw what it was really a cover for.

I think Curves is an adult day care. I saw a bulletin board with C-U-R-V-E-S cut out in block letters. The bulletin board was lined in construction paper. And there was a hula hoop. I might have even seen a gold star or two. I'm sure there were machines in there and working out was happening. I'm certain of it. But...it really did look strange from the outside. And the door quickly shut behind me, because no one wants me to know what's really going on inside.

It really does illustrate the difference between the gyms that are frequented by gay dudes and the gyms that are frequented by straight ladies. In my gym, everything's open. There are lots of windows and lots of dudes showing off their junk, freeballing in loose gym shorts. The shower curtains are open. And so are their mouths, with loud grunts - male mating calls to let you know that they are working hard and have no problem vocalizing the combination of pleasure and pain.

File that under: Information That Will Be Useful Later.

Women keep it all bottled up inside, secretly working out in coverted office space. Gays need the asthetics - the skylights, the high ceilings, the Aveda products and low lit steam rooms. Interesting.

File that Under: Reasons I'm Glad I'm a Gay Dude.

Meatloaf

2010-02-21T23:47:00.000-08:00

I got a craving for some meatloaf and I wanted to make something. We just had a valentine's day dinner party the other night and I had some leftover mozzarella slices. So I decided to do a layer of mozzarella. I think you can always put just about anything in a meatloaf. But here's what I did today. And it was delicious!

2 lbs of ground beef
chopped onion
breadcrumbs
basil
garlic powder
oregano
salt
pepper
mozzarella slices
2 eggs
creamy french dressing

I basically take a bowl and mix everything other than the mozzarella and dressing. Then I take 1/2 of the mix and put it into a pyrex or a meatloaf pan. Then a layer of mozzarella. Then more meat on top. Then pour french dressing on it or ketchup.

Variations:
pickles
raisins
red bell pepper
Parmesan cheese

then bake it in the oven. Yummy. 375 for 45 minutes to an hour.

Done and done. Enjoy. It's four minutes to midnight. Tired.

Loo Recommends: Ben and Dave's Six Pack

2010-02-21T21:57:00.000-08:00

I love podcasts.

I just like to always feel like I'm always at a party where I'm sitting in the corner or retreating to the office or passed out upstairs in my bedroom while things happen around me.

It's strange.

One recent discovery and quick fave is Ben and Dave's Six Pack. www.bendave.com These are two out gay guys who are clearly and openly and outly and so totally fucking gay but not with any of the Classic Gay attributes like lisps, sequined jackets, and quippy bon mots. Although, these guys are funny. I listen to them while I'm cooking. I feel like my mother and her stories (aka her novellas).

Anyway, listen to them. Gay or straight. They are great. And I'm rhyming again.

Memoirs of a Hollywood Geisha

2010-02-21T21:20:00.000-08:00

DISCLAIMER: The following post is partially fictionalized and partially played up for humor. In the words of my boyfriend when he starts getting loud at parties...

"I'M HAMMING IT UP, DEAR!"

**** So part of my being Mrs. Wes is that I have to get dressed up and take the rollers out of the hair every once in a while. Yes, as legend goes, I was rescued from a gutter in Downey, cleaned up and ushered into my life as a Hollywood boyfriend. Truth be told, I'm New York-educated and am pursuing my writing career. But every now and again, I don the dark glasses, put on the pill box hat, drag an Oleg Cassini out of the closet and pull it together. A Kennedy reference is actually apropos in this instance because this morning we went downtown to go bowling for one of our favorite charities, Best Buddies - which was started by Anthony Shriver.

As some of my old friends and my boyfriend can attest, sometimes I can be a fan of a theme. Whether it's my Junior year in college being the year of Navys and Greys or my birthday party in grad school where I announced the theme was 1981 - Calvin Klein minimalist chic, I like to have great stories in my head that make sense to no one but me.

This morning it was easy Hollywood Sunday morning. An outfit that seemed appropriate to the Farmer's Market if one was trying to be on the DL, but wanted to look good for the paparazzi. Translation: grey jeans, terry cloth track jacket by Juicy Couture Mens, blue "UP" t-shirt featuring Ed Asner's character on the front (supporting the family biz), and a pair of white and tan Pumas. I also had my burnt orange sunglasses on. Very low-key. I felt like I could be in one of those Details diagrams that would read:

"Gay Hollywood Domestic Partner or Mobster Tourist"

[Side note: Last night's theme was 80s power bitch - hair was kind of feathered into a bit of a nod to Hillary Clinton, grey v-neck, hot pink tee underneath, grey jeans and silk scarf poking out of a peacoat. We were going to meet a young boy that Wes had met out months ago. I got a little Alexis Carrington/Abby Ewing on it.]

So we get there and see our friend Mark who was running the event. We say hello to some of Wes' clients. I got introduced to Cindy Crawford, who was gorgeous in person and had a nice vibe. Everyone who knew her kept saying how incredibly nice she is. I love to hear things like that. We saw Harry Hamlin who is totally sexy and the lovely Lisa Rinna who I only admired from afar. It was nice to see these folks with their kids. Wes and I were starving so we crammed some food down our throats and then went to mingle.

I was talking to the woman who had worked on PR for the event when a Buddy came up to me. The Buddies are who the charity is for. They are intellectually-disabled individuals who are placed in jobs so they can be active. [Side note: I don't know if we have a term that's fully satisfying. Mentally-handicapped or disabled doesn't seem any better. I think Buddy is probably the best option.] So a Buddy came up to me and spoke in a very soft voice, so I had to lean in. An adult (maybe his Mom) came up to me and said that he maybe he thought I was someone that I'm not. Hmmm. Then she asked me if I was on HEROES.

I politely replied "No." But in my head I was thinking: "Does he think I'm Masi Oka? Do we all really look alike?"

Then she replied that he thought I was Adrian Pasdar. Well, hello Buddy! Can I get you a drink? A soda or a fruit juice, of course!

Then another Buddy came up to me later and asked if I was a celebrity: "Only in my own mind, Sweet Pea. Only in the Windmills of my Mind."

So the Buddies got my Hollywood Casual outfit. Well, if I was going to impress anyone, I'm glad it was them. It was a fun event, as usual. Chatted with Kiele Sanchez, who's an actress I've admired for a long time, although I was playing it cool and not admitting that to her. But if our friend Jen reads this and busts me, I guess I'll just be a big nerd. Oh, well. I could do a lot worse being rescued from a gutter in Downey.

I did my job: helped the boyfriend pick out silent auction items to bid on, functioned as pretty arm candy, made witty remarks and posed for pictures. Now I'm back home, rollers back in, just pulled out a mozzerella stuffed meatloaf out of the oven and the dogs are laying at my feet passing gas. Oh the sweet, foul scent of reality!

Out There

2010-02-21T17:27:00.000-08:00

I don't really know what I'm going to write until it comes together. I had an interesting end of the week. My friend Elyzabeth has this saying when she starts getting a little envious of someone and she says that she's not "keeping her eyes on her own paper." Remember in school when someone would get tempted to cheat, the teacher would say, "Keep your eyes on your own paper." Well a lot of us do that in life. We look around to see how successful someone else is or how much their failing in order to gauge how we feel about ourselves. We spend so much time looking at other people's papers that we don't focus on our own.

And I was guilty of that last week. I try to be the goody goody and not feel those things, but my therapist says it's normal to have those feelings. And my friend Steve said the same thing. I owe him a drink for that sage advice. My friend not my therapist. Although I'm sure I owe my therapist a couple of rounds as well.

I had my jealous moment. My jealous cry. My jealous trip to the Pavillions where I bought all sorts of feel good foods. I wouldn't even say junk food. The act of cooking makes me feel good. Chopping and sauteing and mixing and being creative in the kitchen. Another analogy that comes to mind from therapy is that when I'm cooking I don't spend all of my time worried about other people's opinions. I know it's good. They taste it and give their approval, but I'm not hanging on every word. It's a nice end result, but not the goal.

Why can't I do that with my writing? Everyone's opinion matters. Not that notes are not helpful, but I place my value in other people's hands constantly. Ugh. Stop it already, Loo. Just stop it.

I've soaked in the tub. I've had the "get productive" talk with myself. I've had the "keep your eyes on your own paper" talk as well. And now it's Sunday. I've been working on re-outlining and just taking some good character notes. Now I'm at the self-motivation, think positive end of the sentence. But in order to get there, I had to have the "I want all of these great career successes to happen to me" moment. Why deny myself that?

Without it I wouldn't have had that great feeling of strolling through the aisles at the West Hollywood Pavillions. Not to cruise, just to luxuriate in the florescent lighting and the many different sections of the store. On a Friday night, my favorite time to go grocery shopping. I do a lot of things that make me feel like an older person. I also love an early bird special at a diner. Anyway...

I had to start looking within and taking care of myself. That moment of jealousy was a brilliant reminder that my paper is the only thing that will make me happy. Looking outward only makes me frustrated. I'll get there. Just one step, one page, one thought at a time. But I'll get there. I've written countless plays, tv specs, pilots, etc. utilizing that exact philosophy.

I've spent some time out there looking around and now it's time to come back inside and settle in. Happy Sunday everybody.

Four Women

2010-02-19T22:30:00.000-08:00

Listened to this in the car over the weekend and also love watching "Without You I'm Nothing" Sandra Bernhard's amazing movie and her version. Just thought I'd reprint the lyrics here.

My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is wooly
My back is strong.
Strong enough to take the pain
Inflicted again and again
What do they call me?
They call me
Aunt Sarah
Aunt Sarah...

My skin is yellow
My hair is long
Between two worlds
I do belong
My father was rich and white
He forced my mother late one night
What do they call me?
They call me
Saffronia
Saffronia

My skin is tan
My hair is alright, it's fine
My hips invite you, daddy
My mouth like wine
Who's little girl am I?
Anyone with money to buy.
What do they call me?
My name is Sweet Thing.
Sweet thing.

My skin is brown
My manner is tough
I'll kill the first mother I see
My life has been rough
I'm awfully bitter these days
My parents were slaves
What do they call me?
My name is
PEACHES!

Cooking Makes Me Feel Better About Myself

2010-02-19T20:44:00.000-08:00

I had a tough day, not unlike Amy Adams in "Julia and Julia."
But I didn't make a roast chicken.
I just listened to podcasts about food.
And made a salad and israeli couscous with parsley, lemon zest, pine nuts, golden raisins, and black pepper.

My perfect day would be:

having a bowl of pozole or menudo for breakfast
reading the NY Times either online or in my hands
in bed
then going to the gym and working out chest and back and freeballing
going grocery shopping for an hour - or no time restrictions
then coming home and making a pasta while listening to a great iPod mix
"Surrender" from the Diana Ross album
"Come on over baby" by Christina Aguiliera
"Four Women" by Nina Simone
"Lilac Wine" by Jeff Buckley
"Heartbreaker" by Dionne Warwick
maybe listening to "Spilled Milk" or "Savor Portland" or "Good Food with Evan Kleinman"
nap
private man time
catching up on TV
sex with my boyfriend
going to dinner or making dinner at home with lots of wine
if I make dinner then I'll look through my cookbooks and online about two hours before
nude yoga
laughter
sleep

maybe that will be tomorrow's agenda
i need it

Reconnected

2010-02-19T08:04:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the wonders of technology, namely Facebook, I am now friends (again)with a bunch of my grade school classmates. We've gotten together now three times in the past year or so. Last January, last March for St. Patty's Day and now this past January.

I remember being nervous the first time all saw each other again. Part of it is that so much time has passed and you feel like a different person. Frankly, I wasn't all that popular in grade school. I was strange. I liked comic books and fashion magazines. I liked the band Lone Justice because I'd seen them on a New Year's Eve show on MTV. I thought that made me cool and alternative. I was skinny with buck teeth, a lisp and a matching green tank top and short outfit by Generra that I wore on free dress days. I felt like a planet that hadn't been discovered yet. No name and barely there.

I think what I'm discovering in some ways now is that a bunch of us felt that way. And we've taken our adulthood by the balls and transformed those feelings of isolation into something else. It's made some of us more reflective. It's made a bunch of us let go. My best friend Alanna (who I didn't go to grade school with) and I are always found of saying, "We're just two kids from Downey." I think part of my identity will always be tied to being right off the 5 and the 605 freeways.

What I found when we saw each other again for the first time in that small group of about ten of us, was that time had made us laugh at everything. And yes there were some revelations - secret crushes and the like - but the real revelation was how quickly we all became 14 again - in the best possible way. We fell into our rhythms again.

I'm not sure why I'm thinking about that today. Maybe it's because I look at my Facebook and I see Niki's new recipe or Judy's funny TGIF comment or the fact that we're all planning to see each other again when Michelle comes to town. It's just nice to know that everyone's okay, I guess. Yeah, it's really nice to know that everyone's okay.

Loo Loo's Favorite Things - Feb 2010

2010-02-18T20:39:00.001-08:00

I love a good podcast, which I think I've mentioned. I just finished listening to

Spilled Milk, which is www.spilledmilkpodcast.com and fantastic. It's these two people Matthew Amster-Burton and Molly Wizenberg who live in Seattle. First of all, I love the Pacific Northwest and culture up there. I used to live in Portland and now that it's become such a foodie town, I'm kind of in love even more. The idea is that they choose a food item and then make it, talk about it and eat it. And they laugh and tell funny stories. It's the best. It's new, but so far they've done Fried Eggs, Squash, Milkshakes and Valentine's Day. I love listening to anything that sounds like I'm sitting in the kitchen or in a living room listening to conversations. What can I say? I like company.

Deluxe Dogs - We used to get these from Weinerschnietzel when I was a kid. They are hot dogs made with chopped onion, tomatoes, mustard and a pickle spear. I added a couple hot sweet peppers from Fresh and Easy. There are certain foods I eat when I'm feeling low or tired and in today's case, sick. I came home feeling achy and had some hot dogs in the fridge. So I cooked them up and made my deluxe dogs. I also make tostadas, which I will devote a whole post to at some point soon because I love tostadas. I want to weep I love them so much.

Project Runway - it's not as good as Season Four, but I'm loving this season. I'm watching it now. Just pressed pause. But Tim Gunn could say dirty things to me and I wouldn't complain. He could tag me from behind and tell me to make it work anytime. I'm kind of serious.

My Juicy Couture Zip Up Jacket - Wes gave it to me for Christmas. And I love it. I wear it everywhere. When I put my cap on, I look like someone's friend's cousin Vito.

Quiet Time - I'm sitting here typing and loving having the time to just relax and write down some thoughts before I have to do anything major with the rest of my night.

Baths - I might have to take one soon and close my eyes. I love how loose my testicles are in the bath. seriously. I know it's inappropriate, but it makes me happy.

Foot rubs - my kingdom for a foot rub. I need one now. I think I might have to do it myself. Sit indian style then bend down and work my elbow into the arch of my foot. Ahhhh...

That's it for now. Now back to Project Runway.

Hot Nude Yoga: The Return - Prologue

2010-02-18T17:37:00.000-08:00

So as some of you may remember from last "season", I had started taking Hot Nude Yoga classes. I detailed my experiences, my fears, my trepidation in a few steamy blog posts. But I persevered. I managed. I stretched. And I showed my weenie off in front of other guys.

Not only had I taken off time from writing this blog, but I also took some time off from my Nude Yoga practice. That is until I saw these words on their website:

TANTRIC YOGA AND SEXUAL KUNG FU WORKSHOP

What does THAT mean? Prolonged stretching and dirty martial arts? Naked Karate? Bonerville? My curiosity got the best of me and I did more research. I found out that this practice wasn't just made up. I found that it involved a lot of breathing...heavy, probably. And I learned that it helps in prostate health. But just how was the prostate being stimulated? That was the curious part.

Then I felt kind of weird. Because, yes, I was curious. But I clearly didn't want to make my boyfriend uncomfortable. And this class sounded like it was more sexual in nature. Also, I discovered that "kung fu" translates into "skillful practice." So sexual kung fu was the skillful practice of sex?

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? Is someone going to penetrate me and I'll be in such a higher state of being I won't notice? Oh God! All the questions and all the worry. I thought my nose would start bleeding any second. That's what would happen when I'd have anxiety when I was a kid.

I then became convinced it was a silly thing to do, so I forgot about it. But I kept thinking about this idea of being more mindful about sex and how great that would be for the two of us, not that I need sex lessons, but I love education. So I took a deep breath and sent Wes a very thoughtout email:

"It's Sundays 7:30-9:30. here's the link. Is this ridiculous? If you don't want me to do it, I won't"

SEND.

Then he sent back a response pretty quickly. I got nervous. He wrote:

"Consider it your early Valentine's Day gift. You're all signed up, my little Dark Sting." Now that's support.

Then I cried.

No, not really. But I thought it was so sweet. He got me the workshop. But then I had to go. I mean, it sounded interesting. And I liked that it had a spiritual, energy bent to it. But I had to then actually go and take the workshop. It was over four Sundays.

So on Saturday morning I went to therapy. And started talking to my therapist about it:

"So I signed up for this sexual kung fu yoga workshop thing. I'm excited about going. But scared about going. I mean...is someone going to slip it in?"

Okay, not verbatim. But close. I might have actually said "slip it in" to my therapist. He assured me that it was a great thing. Wes was okay with it, so much that he bought me the damn workshop. And that I should relax. But just be careful about backing into anything.

Kidding. He didn't say that. My therapist is insightful, but not quick-witted.

It could be good for me and for us, he said. I could open up. I could share these techniques and bring them home.

But I just didn't want to do anything that felt inappropriate. And my therapist said, "Then tell them to stop if it doesn't feel good."

Clearly I have issues with boundaries and not asking for what I need. That was another therapy session. So I guess this yoga thing was having a good effect on me already. It was setting the stage for other types of therapy. This was a physical kind and taking about taking action. And the other kind was about talking.

Wow. I have the power to say "yes" and "no?" Deep. Yeah, I guess I do. And what better place to start than Naked Yoga. At least I'd start out comfortable.

My High School Crush Does Not Want to be my Facebook Friend

2010-02-18T15:04:00.000-08:00

His loss.

You know, I thought that maybe enough time would have passed and that he would have seen that I was really an innocent kid dealing with confusing feelings that really had no outlet when I was fifteen. So maybe I called him nightly. Maybe I had his parents freaked out because this lispy kid kept calling the house. I might be worried that some strange boy was calling my son. A boy they never met. A boy who wasn't on the football team like their boy.

I prefer to believe that they were racist.

We even managed to weather the storm of the four hour phone call I made, pleading with him to still be my friend. Lying through my teeth and trying to convince him that I didn't have feelings for him. That I wanted to be a friend to him. Just a friend. Just an emotionally needy, physically affectionate friend.

We really didn't have a lot in common. I don't know why I pursued the relationship--I'm sorry, friendship, so passionately. I was a huge Madonna fan (still am). He was into Rush, Leppelin, The Who, Boston. Probably. The boys in my high school were into Classic Rock. He probably was too. It didn't matter. It's not like we had to have everything in common. Variety is the spice of life, after all. It's what takes us outside of ourselves and allows us to see the world as a bigger place. Maybe my Unnamed High School Crush didn't want his world to be big.

He works with Nascar, I think. Lots of cars in his profile pictures. He protected me from being his friend, but not from viewing some of his pictures. Including his girlfriend or wife or woman he stood very close to one day while out at a winery and asked his "friend" to snap a quick picture of them together so he could send the passive aggressive message to the strange boy who would call his house at odd hours that he likes girls.

Well, that strange boy is now a strange man and I'm not falling for it, buddy. Yeah, I said "buddy." A nice, safe, masculine term of acknowledgment. Like "man", "bro," or "dude." Safe and non-threatening. Because even though you may not believe me, Anonymous Crush, I am safe and non-threatening. And really, really nice. Just ask my boyfriend. Not my friend or roommate, my BOY FRIEND. Manpanion. Domestic Partner, if that makes you feel better.

You know, Crush Who's Name I'm Not Mentioning Out of Respect, I should really thank you. Because you were my first. You kind of set the stage for the relationship I'm in now. I'm in love with a Potato Eater. A Corned Beef-loving, cabbage-smelling, delicious morsel of an Irishman. That's my Wes. I have no problem mentioning his name. Because I'm proud. Out, LOUD, and proud. Wes also loves musicals, which is why we're a better match than you and I were. Well, that and the fact that we were only fifteen and not ready for a real relationship.

I like Irish guys, thanks to you. And if you were my Facebook friend, I could say a proper, modern thank you. Not really "say", per se. But write...well type. And thanking you would involve sending you a Facebook message and not really hearing what your voice sounds like now as an adult. Is it deeper? You still have a pinhead, judging from your pictures. But is your voice at least more mature than you are?

Facebook's a bit impersonal, actually. But thanks to you, I can't even do something impersonal to you.

I'm so mad I could reveal your actual name.

But I won't. Because I'm the bigger person.

Where I want to Work

2010-02-18T10:36:00.001-08:00

Okay, so in the spirit of a new decade, and in the fact that I need to not just have a day job anymore, I'm going to put a list out there into the universe. It's not a wish list. It's a "This is Where I Want to be Spending my Time and Making TV Money as a Staffed Writer" List:

into the universe...planting seeds...manifesting...visualizing...intending...

Let's go by network, shall we?

ABC
Desperate Housewives
Brothers and Sisters
Private Practice
Modern Family
Cougar Town
The Middle

NBC
The Office
Parks and Recreation
30 Rock
Parenthood

CBS
The Good Wife
How I Met Your Mother
The New Adventures of Old Christine

FOX
GLEE

CW
Gossip Girl
Life Unexpected

HBO
Big Love
True Blood

Showtime
US of Tara
Nurse Jackie
Weeds

Putting it out there and doing the work. Proclaiming to the universe that this is what I want. It's a serious thing, this writing career. I'm focused in a way that I haven't been focused in the past. Maybe it's about finding the way I want to write and what I want to write. And maybe it's finally figuring out that it's up to me. I can't expect someone else to guide my choices.

I know better than anyone else what I am capable of. And right now I'm capable of writing a new hour long pilot and a new multi camera half hour. I'm capable of writing two new plays in the past four months and a new proposal for a commission.

Closing my eyes and taking a moment of silence to make the intention.

Now back to the business of being fun and entertaining on the interweb.

Thank you.

AppapaLOOza

2010-02-18T10:21:00.000-08:00

My sweet boyfriend got me the iPod touch for my birthday last week. It's pretty amazing. I have 32 apps so far. Most of them are food related. No surprise since I pretty much obsess about food all of the time. I COULD write a food blog, but this is much more fun. And I do plan to share some more recipes soon.

It's amazing to have that much information at your fingertips wherever you go. AMAZING. This is just a sampling of what's on there:

FACEBOOK - because it's not just enough to have it on my Blackberry or on my laptop.
URBANSPOON - because I need to know where food is and where I can get it wherever I am.
BUMP - which I haven't used yet, but can't wait to bump up against someone's iPhone.
SHAZAM - I also love music.
KINDLE - for books because I like to read.
EPICURIOUS - because that's my middle name.
YELP - because opinions are like...well, you know. And I happen to be a fan. Of YELP. And...
GAY CITIES - because it's the right thing to do.
FOOD NETWORK - porn
GYM FREE - because I might need a workout
NY TIMES - duh.
LA TIMES - duh.
TV.COM - quick reference and I'm obsessed with TV
MIXOLOGY - knowledge is power.
NPR - because I'm wicked smart. Or at least want people to think I am.
PAC MAN - hells, yeah.

And more. But that's a little sampling of the things I love and am interested in.

Then I have my Podcasts because I love:
THE TREATMENT w/ Elvis Mitchell
AMERICAN THEATRE WING'S podcasts
and foodie podcasts which I haven't yet listened to yet, but saw something interesting last night called
SPILLED MILK

BALLET FOR MEN - it's about what it means to be a male dancer. Love it. Haven't listened to it yet. But love it.

SAVOR PORTLAND - more food from Portland, OR
THE STORY SO FAR - the 24 episode series on Sondheim
TIMES TALKS - from the New York Times.

It's all so much information. SO I listen in the car, at the airport, on the flight, while I'm cooking in the kitchen...

I LOVE LOVE LOVE.

And that's what I'm obsessed with this week.

The "Race" is On!

2010-02-17T12:17:00.000-08:00

So I'm just going to give my opinions thus far on who I think is going to take this thing. And I'm only going by memory because if the other ladies aren't sticking, then they aren't staying, and not worth mentioning.

"Can I get an Amen up in here?"

Funny. I was going to start writing about Ongina. I saw her at Micky's several months ago. I love her pocket, genderfuck, yellow madness. It's fantastic.

While I'm still stuck on Season One, can I just say that those Absolute ads that they show when you watch it online are freaky deaky? Nina's glass eyes, Chanel's Liz Taylor weight gain, Bebe's Ororo Munroe blue eyes (those X Men fans will know what I'm talking about)...it's kinda weird.

Okay, onto Season Two. Here's my rundown on the queens...

Tyra Sanchez - judging from Ep 2, she's a bitch. Judging from Ep. 3, she's a funny bitch. And maybe the most gorgeous of them all. And she might pull a knife on you, which is hot.

Jessica Wild - from Ep. 3, she was a little Phyllis Diller, a little Charo, and a lot to love.

Jujubee - I'm loving how real she is and how she's a cool boy and a sexy girl. Although I want to see her turn it out a bit more. But I love a slant-eyed sister.

Morgan McMichaels - he's a cute boy and as a drag queen, a real nod to female impersonators of the past. She doesn't look like a woman, she looks like a drag queen. Way over the top in a great way. And a bit scary.

Mystique Summers Madison - she's now gone, but I have to say that she's trashy and "raggedy" (according to Ru) in a good way. And I love her name.

Nicole Paige Brooks - Nicole. Paige. Brooooks. Name more interesting than the woman. A little janky. but I'm sure she's as sweet as anything.

Pandora Boxx - love her. She's Kathy Griffin meets Kathy Najimy meets Cloris Leachman meets whatever other judges are on the show this season. Here's to the lady who laughs!

Raven - I'm loving her. She's fierce and bitchy and real and cool. Sometimes can look a bit draggy and manlike. But last night she looked like a real lady, soft and demure. Gimme more, Raven! Although she needs to take some pills to up her energy level. As Ru would say, "You betta work!"

Sahara Davenport - trained dancer, but not my favorite drag queen. She's a beauty, though!

Shangela - tore up from the floor up.

Sonique - who knew such an ugly dude could be such a pretty lady. And I don't mean that mean...well, maybe I do. An example of a person who just transforms. Maybe that's it! Most transformed!

Tatianna - like Tyra Banks says, "Don't rest on pretty." And she IS a lady, not a tranny.

That's how I feel. I'm so addicted. I love my RuPaul's Drag Race. It's delish. And now that they have "Untucked", which actually surpasses the show it rips off, "Models of the Runway." Amazeballs!

Battle of the Charity Singles

2010-02-17T12:02:00.000-08:00

I'm with Jay Z on this one.
You just don't mess with "We Are the World."
And "Stranded (Haiti Mon Amour)" is actually a better SONG. And it's fresh and current.

The video clips and the recreating of the chorus of pop music superstars in the new video was cheeseball.

And really? Janet and Michael side by side? Ugh.

Lazy, lazy, lazy.

And I can't get "Haiti Mon Amour" out of my mind, since I heard it. I LOVE that song. It's a bit melancholy and melodious all at once. Go Jay Z, Bono and Rihanna.

We have a new anthem for 2010. To go along with the one from 2009, "Empire State of Mind."

Thanks, Sean Carter.

V-Day iMix titles

2010-02-17T12:00:00.000-08:00

for some reason it cut off the titles. If it wasn't clear, here they are:

Grey in L.A.
Darker Days
Sober
Let it Be
You've Really Got a Hold on Me
Crying
Hallelujah
Stranded (Haiti Mon Amour)
I've Got Your Number
I Dream of Spring
Empire State of Mind

Love it.

V-Day iMix

2010-02-16T20:23:00.000-08:00

- Grey in L.A. by Loudon Wainwright III - because that's my favorite time (other than sunny days when the shirts come off) - driving down SM Blvd between Doheny and Wilshire on a gloomy day. Nothing like it. Liked it at 17. Like it now.

- Darker Days by AM - he's a personal friend and so talented. Love this song. Great music and lyrics.

- Sober by P!nk - a serious pop song.

- Let It Be (featuring the Roots) by Jennifer Hudson - she took it to church, brought it back and offered it up to the Lord. So great.

- You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me by Laura Nyro with LaBelle - another cover. La Nyro and LaBelle. Mmmm...I know they like it and I do to.

- Crying (with Roy Orbison) by k.d. lang - I apparently love alternate versions of already recorded. This made me cry in the lobby of the Sofia Hotel in San Diego. On V Day. what people must have thought. Tears of joy. I swear.

- Hallelujah (featuring Charlie Sexton) by Justin Timberlake and Matt Morris: Go J.T. Do it. Make me love you more.

- Stranded (Haiti Mon Amour) by Jay-Z, Bono, and Rihanna: FUCK THE WE ARE THE WORLD REMAKE.

- I’ve Got Your Number by Jill Sobule: Because I do and he does mine. Cy Coleman.

- I Dream of Spring (from KCRW concert) by k.d. lang: We were at this concert in Malibu. Romantic to the nth degree.

- Empire state of Mind (featuring Alicia Keys) by Jay-Z: Because we are always, even on this coast. And it IS a state of mind, if not always a state of being.

Express your love. If you want it right now, make him show you how.

Season Two: Sneak Peek!

2010-02-16T18:44:00.001-08:00

Okay, so instead of saying I took four months off writing this blog, I'm just going to say that it was a truncated Season One. And now I'm back with Season Two - better than ever. Like RuPaul's Drag Race, but less make up. More attitude, but less make up.

I've been busy writing plays and such, kids. So that's why I've been remiss in getting to my blog. But instead of renaming the old broad, I decided to come back to her and see whatelse is up her sleeve. Do I know what I'm talking about? Not a clue.

Here's what's in store for Loo's View - Season Two:

- More rhyming. A lot more.
- My very new recent obsession with my iPod Touch and all things apps. I am an app addict. And mainly my apps have to do with food: Epicurious, Food Network Nighttime, Urbanspoon...okay more more more on that soon.
- My campaign to get staffed on a show this season.
- Stranded (Haiti Mon Amour) vs. We Are the World II: Battle of the Charity Singles.
- My obsession with my iPod Touch...wait, did i mention that already? I'm obsessed.
- RuPaul's Drag Race Season Two: a blow by blow.
- More Hot Nude Yoga Stories...this time from my Tantric Yoga and Sexual Kung Fu workshop - that is a four part series.
- GLEEtasticness - I can't wait until April.

That's just a taste of the juiciness to come. Whet your appetite, let the juice run down your cheek and get ready for

LOO'S VIEW...SEASON TWO...COMING SOON.

I told you there'd be more rhyming.

Talk soon.

Portland Past vs. Portland Present

2009-10-14T17:46:00.000-07:00

After my SCU whirlwind extravaganza and a delicious crab cake benedict (V had the Carnitas benedict) at Bill's Restaurant in Santa Clara, I was off to Portland, OR. I lived in Portland after college for two years. It was a very specific time in my life. We had so much fun drinking beer and listening to bands. My hair was long, I wore satin pants without undies sometimes and strutted my stuff.

My crush that first year was Jonathan Cook, who was a Jewish hippie who treated me badly, had a nice package and had dreadlocks. I was the envy of many girls I knew, who had no idea he liked men. My first clue was when he walked into my office with sweatpants and no undies. I made out with him at my birthday party that year. That's another story.

I started out living with five interesting characters. We were together in a year long volunteer service program called JVC, which stood for Jesuit Volunteer Corps. When I was home that summer after college graduation, I got a letter describing my housemates. While this is not accurate, this is how I now remember it:

Suzie Baldwin (Suzanne) - Suzie graduated from St. Michael's College in VT and will be doing a second year in Portland as a JV. She's a spitfire, a bit of a know-it-all, and ultimately won't find it funny when you hit on her future husband at Chris' wedding in three years.

Jennifer Kiely - from Newtown, CT and a graduate of Providence College in Rhode Island. She's an 80 year old woman in a 22 year old body. She uses phrases like "dog's age" and "darkie." You'll have one huge fight where you both blow up because you aren't putting up with the other person's shit. She'll ignore you on FB when you're in your thirties and she has children.

Erica French - from Texas. She'll be the person you connect with right away. She's got big hair, she's Latina and she'll be out of your life in three weeks when she realizes that she really likes her credit cards and hates the poor.

Sharon Goebel - Sharon's from Indianapolis and went to Marian College. She'll turn the other cheek when you make her take you to Burger King for a secret snack after you've told your entire house that you're now a vegetarian. Then she'll disappear for years, only to reappear on FB with a stepdaughter and six weeks from marriage.

Chris Flanagan - graduated from St. Michael's College. Chris is the guy in the house. The Irish Catholic guy who might be the template for the guys you have a crush on and eventually end up with years later. He will forever be recognized for his famous "I will not walk on eggshells" speech. You make an effort to see him at least once every two years when you're close by on business. He's the person you're most in touch with years later.

Eric Loo - loves to sing and dance. He's gay, but will tell you he's bi when he meets you. He'll probably piss most of you off because he thinks he knows it all and he's got a superiority thing. He will go from Catholic school boy to whore in a matter of weeks. He'll give up on the volunteer thing to go work in the cutthroat world of advertising where he'll have a new set of fancy friends, but will always have you in his heart. Even as he travels to New York and eventually makes it back to LA.

Now when I drive down the streets of Portland and see how much has changed - an American Apparel on Hawthorne Blvd, the emergence of a real food scene, the Pearl District - I remember the ghosts of Portland Past. And I head into my Portland present, which is basically my brother experiencing some of the same things I did. But he's older than I was when I lived there and he's got a lawyer wife and a three month old baby.

I remark at how easy it still is to get around. Only 10 minutes from his house in Brooklyn to the Pearl District. Even at 1 pm in the afternoon. I live in LA. That's remarkable. And I hear the names of neighborhoods which have hit their gentrified height and didn't even exist when I lived there: Alberta and Mississippi. But it still feels good to be surrounded by the wind and the chill as I walk with my little baby niece in a baby bjorn and get congratulated on my new little arrival.

So in Portland Present, I am a cute straight dude with a baby attached to my front. I laugh and thank the man.

Blowjobs!

2009-10-13T23:54:00.001-07:00

So I came back to my hotel room at the Candlewood Suites.

I wrote to my boyfriend about the day's events. And then my close friend Veronica came over.

We got in the time machine. I can't even describe all the shit we did and talked about because it wouldn't make sense to anyone else than us. But here's a funny thing that happened after we went to the Tinker's Damn gay bar in San Jose.

We needed a snack afterwards, so we pulled into a Taco Bell driveway on the way back. I ordered a three Taco Surpreme combo. Lathered on the hot sauce and ate them on the way home. So yummy. I was drunk.

Then we got close to campus. I was still hungry. And we pulled into the Taco Bell near campus. It was a double Bell night. But this Taco Bell still let the students walk through the drive thru. So we had to refrain from running them over. I got a 7 layer burrito and a tostada, which is what I ordered all the time in college. EXTRA LETTUCE.

As Veronica was driving, I hung out the window and asked the undergrads questions. More yelled questions at them, actually.

"Who wants to party at the Candlewood suites?"
"Oooh, your ass looks great!"

Veronica was laughing and then asking me to get inside. So I climbed back in and decided that we would drunk dial our friends Tony and Bill. I don't remember what we said, but I probably said that I wanted to finger them or lick their balls or something. That would be something I'd say to either one of them. And I was yelling so much that they probably didn't understand what I said.

Finally we got our food and headed back to our hotel. But not before I yelled something at a group of guys walking back to the dorms:

"BLOWJOBS!"

I have never been accused of being subtle.

Ah, the time machine. Some things never change.

Dinner and Carolyn

2009-10-13T23:31:00.001-07:00

Then we all got together for dinner at Mio Vecino, an Italian restaurant near the campus. The thing of note: my former professors all eat way too much bread. Bread baskets, garlic bread and bruschetta as appetizers. I felt it would be too rude to say no. Great conversations with Barbara about life and writing. Great talks with Jerry about his Japanese, although he didn't get I was joking when I said I knew there was a reason he was so nice to me when I was a student. Yellow fever! I was kidding, Jerry! I swear!

Slant Eyes adores Jerry!

So then my favorite professor, Carolyn came in. And when I say favorite, that doesn't mean that I don't love everyone else. It's just that Carolyn had the greatest influence on me. She helped birth my creativity.

Carolyn Silberman was the person who let me create dances and taught me about Justice in the Arts and art as a social service. She told me that doing art and doing service were not mutually exclusive.

So Carolyn comes in with her slender, young self, jean jacket and warm face. There are so many things about that night with Carolyn that meant so much to me. First of all, the revelation that she thought I was going to pursue dance after college. What? I was the kid who danced in Adam Zotovich's shadow. Yes, I choreographed dances and was pretty good at it, but pursue dance? Wow. I guess the thing that meant the most was that she thought that I warranted giving it a shot. Please, I love writing. And I'm glad that I pursued writing. But I always wanted to be a dancer, since I was six and my mom told me my family couldn't afford jazz dance classes. It was a 12 year old dream I took with me to college. So it meant a lot to me to have her say that. Especially since I respect her so much. She said that I had just begin to come into my own when I left college. All I can say is wow. That means a lot.

We decided to go grab a drink at Fiorello's and some of my favorite quotes included:

"You can never go wrong with Kendall Jackson."
"Okay, if you can't decide on a wine, you can never go wrong with a Martini."
"I didn't have anything to eat. So sugar isn't a good choice. Let's see the wine list."

And she's not a lush, I swear. She's just amazing and a great character. She's so inspiring and artfully articulate, that I forgot how funny she is without even knowing it. I adore her and I'm proud that I'm someone she shone her light on. It was the best night.

When Carolyn dropped me off, she asked me if I keep in touch with my English professors (I was an English major, not a theatre or dance major). And I don't. I only keep in touch with my theatre and dance professors. And the only people I made it a point to see individually were my two dance professors. Because they encouraged me to be creative and make my own original art. And years later, I'm still making original art. Thank you.

I'm about music, humor, art, and service. And that describes my college education to a T.

Being Human, Chapter Two

2009-10-13T23:14:00.000-07:00

So after having a lovely sandwich with David, I had to go do this panel. I was a LITTLE buzzed when it started, so I was nervous about what was going to come out.

Thankfully, I held it together. Some things that all of us had in common were that we were all in relationships with people who were also in our line of work, we felt that our training at Santa Clara prepared us well, and we were all happy to go back to SCU to share our experiences.

The students had good questions. Some of the guys were smoking hot. I was hoping to be more of a "mentor" to some of the jockier looking ones. Hee, hee...

But it was great. Really gratifying and really got me back in the mindset of maybe doing some teaching. It was nice to know that my experiences could be helpful. And seriously, talking to my professors really reminded me of the type of student I was: hopeful, enthusiastic and a total character.

It was also nice to know that they still thought of me all these years later. I was just a dude that really wanted to dance and write and SCU allowed me that freedom to make mistakes, which is the point that all of us panelists made to the students. Go and experiment and do and try. That's probably the best thing that my education gave me. It was a small liberal arts Catholic university. No Carnegie Mellon or Northwestern or UCLA or NYU would let you do that. Yes, maybe the training might have been more advanced, but how much do you really retain of that. And it was nice to have a broad education to help you figure out what you really want to do.

It made me the artist I am today. So thank you Barbara, Fred, Jerry, David, Carolyn, Fran, Erik, Peter and Barbara. I owe you my life.

Being Human, Chapter One

2009-10-12T08:33:00.001-07:00

I just recently went back to my alma mater, Santa Clara University, to speak to their students in a panel conversation called "Business of the Business." The talk is designed to help students understand what their lives could possibly be like after they graduate. There were alums going all the way back to 1981 and in various fields of study: dance, acting, costumes, tech and writing (that's me).

The panel conversation was the least interesting part of my trip, although it was great to talk to students and hear about their experiences as undergrads and compare that to my own a bit. But the real entertaining and enlightening part of my trip was seeing my professors again. These people shaped my life and set me on a course that I'm still on. I would have been a writer without them, but I'm a much better, fully realized artist because of them.

I have the utmost respect and admiration for them, but I've got to say that getting to know them as human beings and not just these icons of my personal educational experience was enlightening. I realize that they're people just like me, who are trying to fulfill themselves creatively and sustain that over a period of 20, 30, 40 even 50 years. It's pretty remarkable.

I had dinner with a bunch of the faculty from the theatre department (where I was actually NOT a theatre major, but a theatre and dance double minor), but I had made it a point to reach out individually to my two dance professors: David and Carolyn. I didn't even make the connection, until Carolyn dropped me off at my hotel on Friday night, that it was important to me to connect with them. I love my theatre professors, but David and Carolyn really nurtured me in the act of creating original work, which you could only do at the time in the dance department. As a course of study that is. You could write a play whenever you wanted, but most of the theatre students were concerned with performing already created texts--dead authors and the like.

David and I sat down and had a beer together. Very manly for two guys who spent hours and hours in tights and unitards. I heard about his family and the struggle to make more time for them. I listened to him tell me about how his body had changed over time. He went back to school in the time since I graduated. He now has tenure. He's still creating dances and performing his own work as well. Our conversation had an ease and a lightness that it had always had. I always teased David because we had that sort of familarity - taking things seriously, but not so seriously that you can't laugh at yourself and the absurdity of the act of creation. In that absurdity, I believe we also always found the grace in it as well. I was once described by a friend as "irreverently reverent" and I think that applies here. It was so great to see him again and share stories about what we're creating. I didn't feel like his student anymore, but more like a peer. That was a revelation.

Saw Medea last night

2009-10-05T08:24:00.000-07:00

Wes and I are trying to do more cultural things around town. We tired of hearing the same old mantra that there's no culture in LA. Mainly from ourselves. There is and you just might have to go to Pasadena or Echo Park or Boyle Heights or San Pedro or Laguna. Sorry, folks.

Well, we went to see MEDEA starring Annette Bening at UCLA Live last night. UCLA LIVE is kind of great because it's the LA version of BAM (Brooklyn Academy of Music). Experimental, provocative, theatre, dance and music. It's got a lot of shit going on. And there were a few celebs in the audience last night, which is always nice. I was sitting between my boyfriend and Zachary Quinto, the guy from Heroes and Star Trek. I met him once before he was famous and he read a few pages from a play of mine and had something very sweet to say about my writing afterwards. Wes told me I should have said something to him, but it was over four years ago and I doubt he'd remember.

Anyway back to the show. I appreciate the fact that UCLA Live produced it themselves and that it was thinking outside the box, but I think the problem was conceptual. Wes liked Annette Bening less than I did. I didn't enjoy her performance, but I think it had less to do with her and more to do with the director's conception of the character of Medea, who's a woman who is wronged and kills her own children (in a nutshell). I had the good fortune of seeing Fiona Shaw at BAM years ago and the image of blood splattering on a lucite wall as she's killing her children will never leave my mind. It was theatrical and exciting and bold. All things that this production wasn't really. They tried to make Medea sort of nice so you felt for her when you realized that she was going to kill her kids. You don't need to do that with this character. The force of her fury should be explanation enough for doing something so wrong. And it's actually not even all that wrong, it's just highly debatable in the context of the play. But that's the fun of the play--I guess if you consider deceit, murdering kids and going on a rampage fun. And I do.

This isn't the Susan Smith story. It's Medea. And when it is done right, that bitch really kicks ass.

One more naked yoga story...

2009-10-02T23:22:00.000-07:00

I'm just tryin' to catch ya all up.

When I went to my first yoga class, there was a guest teacher, "Joe", who happened to also be the cute guy with the shaved balls and the trimmed pubes in Sunday's class. And I liked the idea of doing a class midweek when I really needed the clarity.

A quick real note about the HNY: I'm really loving it. It is spiritual and it allows me to find my center. The thing about being naked is that I don't have to think about what I'm wearing and I can just be. And when I can just focus inward, listen to the sound of my yogi's voice and just be...I feel the most in touch with myself (no pun intended) that I have all week. The stories are just my entertaining ways of sharing the twisted things that occur to me.

So I get there and this time there's a little more light in the room. I rush in because I'm running late, I slap my 20 bucks on the counter and introduce myself to the teacher, who I'll call Gene. Gene is hot, y'all. He must be in his 40s somewhere and he's lean, muscular and he's got a big one. Just in case you were wondering. Most of my friends usually ask the question within the first 10 seconds of me telling them I'm doing Nude Yoga: "Are there lots of big dicks in class?"

And, by the way, I walked in and felt like I stumbled into Algebra class when I was supposed to be in Geometry because it was definitely the "show-ers" group, if you know what I mean. As in, I'm a grower not a shower (which in fact I am). So I just laid back and enjoyed and started my practice.

I don't know about you, but I usually expect my yogi to have a pretty soothing voice with a bit of a New Agey twang to it. Joe's voice was authoratative but soft. The yoga teacher on Sunday's voice was very reassuring and positive. This guy was straight up from Williamsburg and not the Williamsburg of today, but the Williamsburg of Barbra Streisand and Joy Behar. The Williamsburg of poor old school Italians and Jews. In other words, he spoke classic Brooklynese. Maybe instead of calling him Gene, I should call him Johnny Knuckles, because he walked like a bit of a street thug as well. A street thug with impeccable posture.

"All right, yous guys. We're gonna do da downwahd dawg."

Oh my God, he's Tony Danza. He's getting a new alias.

So Danza's instructing and swinging about..."Please adjust me", I keep thinking. And he does. But I don't think he's enjoying it.

Thankfully the music's soft and soothing, but it's not like Yanni muzak played with a pan flute.

"Do ya know who dis is?" Okay, the Tony Manero shoulder shrug was a bit much. "Come on, yous! Dis probably came out before you wa born! It's Fleetwood Mac, but before Lindsey and Stevie joined. The first album. 1969."

Is this yoga? Fleetwood Mac trivia? Brooklynese?

I open my eyes. I see his schlong in front of me. Yep, it's yoga.

Besides the entertainment value, it was actually a great class. We stretched a lot and it seemed to flow. This dude wasn't messing around. He did a refresher on sun salutations for the new guys...boom boom boom. This class wasn't necessarily for the advanced guy, but it was definitely for the experienced one. I was sweating and not really thinking about how overworked I felt or how stressed out I've been. I forgot all about that and just focused in on the sound of Danza's voice. Guiding me through my Warrior poses, my flows, my Yoga abs and my balance postures.

It's kind of like all of your cravings all at once. A chicken hard shell taco and Peppermint ice cream and pepperoni pizza and french fries all as one spectacular oddly satisfying meal that doesn't seem to go together. Such is the Brooklyn yogi, the Fleetwood Mac, the muscular wirey bodied students, the clarity and simplicity of yoga and nudity.

Great tastes that don't seem to go together, but are great together.

I think I found my class.

A Different View on Sunday

2009-10-02T22:59:00.000-07:00

So remember how I shared my Hot Nude Yoga experience (if you don't, go back to the post called "Boner Free" and catch up)?

Well, I decided that maybe it wasn't something I was just going to do once to blog about. Maybe I'd try it again and see how things look in the daylight.

And the truth is that they look old.

I guess it's a different crowd who didn't go out last night, meth out and wake up next to someone strange who they feel deeply ashamed about, but don't want to be impolite and kick them out of bed. So the whores and drunks are still asleep at 10 AM on a Sunday while the coupled ones and the fogies are wide awake, well into their second cup of coffee and maybe even back from church at this point.

Well, we all migrated to the Nude Yoga house and stripped down. And even though I'm not making much out of it, I must say that I took off my pants and started to get a boner. This was strange. It didn't happen on Wednesday, with all the hot guys with the muscled asses and the candlelight and the incense. Do I have strange tastes? Am I just looking for a hot daddy or even a non-hot, but reliable one? Well, as soon as all of these questions creeped in my head, they feel back out when I started my practice.

My yoga teacher got things going with hellos all around. We hugged, we smiled--there was way more interaction this time around.

And by interaction, I mean touching and adjusting and realigning. And while it's nice to be touched and have certain body parts grazed, it reminded me of my college dance classes when the professor would come up to me and tell me that my hips weren't square and I wasn't holding my stomach in or that my alignment was off, or he'd just look at me and say:

"There is a whole lot going wrong here."

Then he shook his head--not my college professor, but my current yoga teacher, who happens to be kind of well known for this sort of thing. It was one thing when he made us all put our hands up against the wall and press with our arms spread out. It was like getting searched by a cop. And that was hot as he stood behind me adjusting me. But then it got into familiar territory and there I was again, the kid who needed to be adjusted, toes in, arms tight, face forward. He manhandled me, but only to correct, not caress.

Who knew Hot Nude Yoga was going to bring some of my college aged insecurities back? But I just stared in front of me at the guys shaved balls and trimmed pubes. He smiled. I smiled. Then the teacher came over and fixed me again. And the guy in front smiled even bigger. Not a smile of serenity. But a smile of relief. A smile of "thank God it's you, not me. I know what I'm doing."

Well, that's not very Yoga like. But that's West Hollywood!

I just focused on my breathing, did my best and let him come by and adjust me if he needed to. What the hell? At least I'm getting my $20 worth.

Taco Fridays

2009-10-02T22:39:00.000-07:00

It's Friday night and what am I doing? I am sitting at home, writing in my blog, watching Wendy Williams on the DVR (How you doin'?) and eating hard shell turkey tacos, inspired by my friend Roberto Martin who was on the Ellen show this week making vegan tacos. He's Ellen's personal chef and we grew up together in Downey, CA back when I was the school fag and he was Bobby Martin.

It seems like life has been going incredibly fast lately, so I'm taking the opportunity to catch up on my blog. I've got lots to write about.

My boyfriend Wes and I have this thing about Fridays. It's the same thing that most people have about New Years Eve. We like to stay in or do something low key because Fridays never turn out the way yout think they're going to. I work in an entertainment office, so at about 5:15 the panic begins. It's the "oh shit, I whole week went by and I forgot to do A, B, & C" feeling. It'd be nice if once I could just slide into a Friday, but it never seems to work that way. And Wes runs an agency, so it's never easy for him on a Friday either.

We tried to make plans with friends on a Friday, but it's usually people who have more open schedules, so we're trying to make it crosstown, stop over at the house to take the dogs to poop and feed them so we don't come home from a fabulous night out to the smell of dog shit everywhere and our dogs all muddied and disgusting. And the events or dinners are always at 7 because there are people in this world who actually can start their weekend early. SO by the time we meet up at home and I take the dogs out and we get dressed and out the door, we're late. And because Wes rushes in and needs me to be dressed and ready to go, I feel pressured and then we end up being pissed at each other for the first part of the evening.

So our new routine is that we stay at the office until we need to leave. I'm usually done before he is. Then I come home and take care of the dogs. If he's still not home, I end up making dinner for myself. Usually something that's a guilty pleasure. Like a hot dog. Or tostadas. Tonight, it was turkey meat tacos. But since we've been running ourselves ragged all week with drinks and business meetings, the fridge was empty. So I decided to go supermarket shopping on a Friday.

I suppose I'd feel strange if I was single. But it's kind of nice to be at the local Pavillions where I can shop leisurly in my grey sweatpants, no undies and a big hoodie. Well, it's nice until I run into someone I know and wish I had spent 30 minutes getting my casual look together instead of actually walking out the door in an actual casual look. I see my friend...let's call him Giles from a certain support group I used to attend. He's very talkative, so it's like having my own live podcast to listen to while I'm shopping. I'm happy to listen, Giles is happy to talk.

Eventually, Giles and I part ways and I'm left alone once again to put all the things I don't need in my shopping cart like Entemann's coffee cake and Peppermint ice cream. I walk out of the parking lot and see that my Ralphs circular is in my car and tomatoes on the vine are on sale for 88 cents a pound. So since I'm having so much fun and my boyfriend hasn't texted me, I'm off to Ralphs. Or as Wes and I like to call it "Hellphs." Hellphs is Hellphs because it borders Beverly Hills and the parking lot is tiny and the old ladies who go there are slow and mean. I get a bunch of produce that's on sale and I fill up my bag full of lettuce, tomatoes, green onions, regular onions, garlic and Root Beer for $6.50. It's a bargain, so I head home.

Tacos are made. Tacos are eaten. Root beer is guzzled and here I am with Wendy on pause as I start to slow down. It's been a busy week. I've done a lot. I've thought about a lot and I think I've got a reflection filled weekend ahead.

Maybe I'll have one more taco before I start reflecting.

A Case for Seventies Streisand

2009-09-24T10:15:00.000-07:00

In the great gay debate, there's always the question:

Are you a Liza, a Bette, a Madonna or a Barbra? (Sorry, I'm not of the generation that asks if I'm a Britney or a Gaga - not that I'm old) Okay, so my generation might ask more if I'm a Carrie, Miranda, Samantha or Charlotte. And that naturally is paired with the colors conversation (are you an Autumn, Winter, Spring or Summer).

To clear it up, I'm a Summer Carrie and I don't really play favorites with my Gay Icons. But I do have a special affinity for Barbra in the 70s, her pop period, which I really consider 1969-1984 (everything that leads up to The Broadway Album). Although the great stuff happened in the 1970s. And I'm not counting Guilty in 1980 because that it was her best selling album to date and not considered a lost classic.

Here's a list of songs from the great Streisand Pop Era - check them out in their 30 second clips on iTunes:

Queen Bee - from A Star is Born ("Welcome, please...the Oreos!)
Space Captain - from Barbra Joan Streisand (yes, the Joe Cocker song)
Life on Mars - from Butterfly (yes , Bowie song - and genius!)
Sweet Inspiration - from Live Concert at the Forum - she gets all Gospel
Look What They've Done to my Song, Ma - from Barbra Streisand and other Instruments - the special at least, not sure if it's on an album
Punky's Dilemna - from What About Today? ("Wish I was a Kellogg's Corn Flake...")
Time Machine - from Emotion (written by Earth, Wind and Fire, also featured on KIDS INCORPORATED)
Emotion - from Emotion - the video and documentary about the making of the video is genius. She basically went from Yentl to this.

It's classic because it so epitomizes so many wrong things about the 70s - it's when a lot of famous old time acts tried to get hip and the era was full of so many wacky ideas that it really was like the Devil's playground in term of guilty pleasures. Amazing. The collision of culture...what a wreck! A deliriously wonderful wreck!

Boner Free

2009-09-23T23:48:00.000-07:00

Some things you do just so you can blog about them...

Tonight I did something I had considered several times, but didn't think I had the guts to do. And that is HOT NUDE YOGA.

Wes has the DVDs - Beginner, Strength, Partner and Tantra. And I've watched them many times. Hell, sometimes I've even exercised. Aaron Star is the guy who created this whole concept and from the DVDs you feel like there's this whole community of naturalist, non-lookist gay men who have come together for a sense of community and belonging. So they happen to be naked! Who cares? It's about the bond that comes from men having a shared homosensual experience.

Well, it wasn't exactly that way. This being Los Angeles, there's bound to be a sense of personal space and elitism. I probably had the most percentage body fat of any guy there. The HNY folks have this thing about wanting to be at the same fitness level - it's part of the communial experience thing. That and they can't say, "No fatties! You're disgusting to look at and how can I be calm and at peace with myself if I have to look your gross self!" Hey! I'm in shape. I just finished P90X, got toned, but I didn't stop eating like I like to eat, which is like a real person.

Btw, I just made some bolognese tonight and it looks delish. It's always better the second day, my mother says.

So I walk in there with my cute arms and my boyish good looks and my tummy. I don't mean to over sell it. It's not a gut. But it's soft and adorable and mostly flat. Let's just say it doesn't detract from the outward-first, then inner beauty. It's in this house in this non-descript neighborhood in Hollywood. I manage to find parking and I walk to the front of the house. Nothing. But I can see the flicker of candle light, so I head around the back where the back door is wide open.

Very Craig's List.

So I walk inside and see a bunch of naked dudes in minimal lighting walking around. In Aaron's videos, the group laughs and strips down and laughs some more. Then they do a big group hug, some of them are turned on and they start their yoga practice with hard-ons.

But this is HNY LA, so there are no hugs. The guys who all know each other keep to themselves and I grab the one spot left in the back corner where I can barely stretch my legs. I feel like Rosa Parks.

I'm a little shocked at myself. I drove all the way over to the class thinking that I was going to get an erection and then I'd have to proudly display it as I did my Warrior One or lunged into Warrior Two. Tree Pose was going to be a bitch with that extra branch throwing off my balance. But I looked down and there was nothing.

And of course I must have been a dead giveaway as the new kid because my neck kept craning. The instructor had a nice one and the guy next to me seemed to have a non-threatening, yet respectable penis of his own. The class begins and my erection free body starts to move.

And sweat. I thought it was called Hot Nude Yoga because they were trying to be titilating. Turns out, there was a very good reason they ask you to bring a towel to lay on your yoga mat. I almost didn't bring one because I didn't see the point. But halfway through, I'm wiping myself down. I've got to say, there's nothing like feeling that bead of sweat head down the small of your back and disappear into your buttcrack. I felt like I National Geographic Special on dew.

Then I look in front of my, through the semi-dark haze to see a familiar face. Aaron Star, founder of HNY was in front of me. Or what seemed like a version of him with a shaved head and a piercing maybe. But then he wasn't doing the poses full out. So then I decided it wasn't him. But he kept smiling at me like he owned the joint and then I thought, "Well, maybe he doesn't want to show off."

I'm doing my Child's Pose and my Downward Dog and my sequences, waiting for the moment when the instructor asks us all to come together and lay on top of each other or awaken the chakras in our respective taints. But that moment never arrived. I might have had a heart attack. The closest I came was Dolphin Pose.

So the instructor counts all of us in the room and it seemed like I was the only one without a partner. Everyone had someone in front of them but me. But then I thought that maybe the instructor would be my partner and even that thought didn't produce any arousal. Not even a chubby. The idea behind Dolphin Pose is that you balance on your elbows with your body straight up in the air. And this pose takes THREE people to execute. There's the "dolphin" and the two people creating the cage that keeps the dolphin from falling over. Caged animals. All of a sudden this is starting to feel less freeing and spiritual.

I get with these two guys - one is this cute blonde dude who seems a little hard core. I later find out his name is Todd. And then there is this hot panther (is that what we're calling male cougars now? I can't keep up. I prefer the old school term: Daddy). This guy is tight and six packed and clearly has been practicing yoga for years. Because he can do the frog pose and standing on his head and do all that crazy kama sutra shit.

Sidenote: They tell you not to eat two hours before you get there. I stopped eating about 1:15 minutes before class. And I got a little nervous when I saw Frog Pose, which is basically a squat where you rest your elbows on your inner thighs. In other words, you're squatting down like a Chinaman in a rice paddy stretching out your asshole. If you had any gas, there was no way it was going to stay inside and incognito. And the room is turned up, so farting in a hot room is a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, I was okay.

So that little group exercise was nice, but then it was back to stretches and balance poses. Then we get to the end where we all have to lie down and shut our eyes. In the DVDs, Aaron comes over and places a hand on your tummy to settle our breathing or he rubs your shoulder or licks your nipple...wait! That might have been a dream I had. Anyways, he's touching you and helping you relax. None of that here. It was very tame. I had managed to doze off a bit, but it was so relaxing. And then class was over.

In the light, I did realize that Aaron Star indeed had taken our class. I felt blessed, but I was confused that he didn't make us do a daisy chain or at least take hold of each other's "root chakras", if you know what I mean.

They don't discourage erections, according to the website. The worst thing that can happen (and the best) is that your erection is a source of inspiration for the group and things start sprouting all over the place. But that's not the point here. The point is to gather with other men, free of the labels that clothes and bags and shoes and cars give us. At that moment, we are all the same. we're all doing the same thing and trying to achieve the same goal.

I decided to go tonight because I am looking to awaken something in me. Not my sexuality, because that's pretty awake. Actually, it's been pulling an all nighter since junior high. I wanted to be in a place that was free from some of the industry Hollywood bullshit. I succeeded. It was liberating to be naked. And to forget about the world for a moment and focus inward. I just finished this pilot and polished up another one and am getting ready to start a MEDEA adaptation and then want to work on another play this year...I needed something. Something that just brought me back to myself. And I love stretching. It was always my favorite part of dance class because it allowed me to focus inward.

So will I go back? I might try another class or two. I'm curious about some of the other workshops. And I'm curious about the guys who come here and why.

But mainly I want to go back because the heat made me really flexible and I want to see how much more flexible I can become. In every way.

Meat Fingers

2009-09-23T17:52:00.000-07:00

I went to the supermarket last night--the Pavillions that just reopened on Santa Monica Blvd in West Hollywood. It used to be the friendliest one in town. Now it's just the biggest and just slightly kind.

I went because there was Tree Top Apple Juice on sale. Marked down from $4.45 to $2.99 (new everyday low price) to $0.99. I bought 8 bottles of Tree Top Apple Juice last week. But the best part was the variety. I had my choice of Apple Cider or Apple Berry as well. I went with the traditional, but I liked that there was so much value in that one purchase. And while I was there I picked up $18.99 worth of 80/20 ground beef for $7.00.

I love when I go to the market and I've saved more than I spent. It's kind of my favorite feeling. Other than sex or eating or writing or masturbating or having a good hair day or having a good work out or having a hot shower or having my boyfriend kiss me in the morning. Okay, so it's Top Ten. Maybe.

Now I have to figure out what I should do with all that meat. I've been on a meatloaf and meatball kick lately. I'll probably make some bolognaise because I've got a bunch of basil and tomato puree to use up.

I guess this is the root of my problem. I'm trying to lose a bit of my paunch. And it's not that big. It's actually not bad at all. But I've been doing P90X and working out and running and doing cardio. But the problem is that I like to eat. So I might never have that six pack. Because I love food. Although I keep seeing my friend Michael Stanwyck's status updates on Facebook about all the shit he eats and his was just featured on KTLA a few mornings ago with the craziest six pack ever.

Maybe I should send Michael an email and title it:

"Teach Me How to Eat Like Shit and Have Killer Abs"

Homemade Ketchup

2009-09-16T07:57:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since a shared a favorite recipe and here's one that's easy and way better than buying the Heinz:

Saute a medium diced onion and as many minced garlic cloves as you personally like in some olive oil until the onion is translucent. Then add some grated ginger, a seeded habanero or jalapeno finely minced, and some chopped up cilantro (about 1/4 cup, you can also sub in or mix with basil). Add 1 cup of vinegar (the recipe I read calls for 1/2 c. red wine and 1/2 c. apple cider - if you only have apple cider use 1 cup of that) and 1/2 c. brown sugar (more if you like a sweeter ketchup up. Let that come to a boil and reduce a bit. Then add one 28 oz can of whole peeled tomatoes or tomato puree (not sauce, too liquidy). Let that simmer and reduce by half, usually about 20-30 minutes. Keep stirring every so often so it doesn't burn.

Then put in a blender until all the chunks are gone. You might want to wait for the mixture to cool down a bit first. Then keep it in a tight container for up to 3 weeks. I've also done it where I've used the puree and chopped everything so fine that I didn't put it in the blender and had a bit of a relish/ketchup. It's good.

It's simple, but impressive to guests when you pull out the homemade ketchup. It's a lot of bang for very little.

Morning Dog Walk: Taking the Time

2009-09-16T07:46:00.000-07:00

The dog walk this morning was full of dogs. We see this poodle from time to time - if I walk them at around 7:30 - who they love to play with. The owner and I don't know each other's names. But we know each other through our dogs.

Then there was the cute guy with the gray dog (I wasn't raised a dog person, so I don't know breeds by sight). And the guy who had four dogs he was walking at once. Had never seen either one of them walk in the hood. Maybe I should walk the dogs at 7:30 more often!

Then I thought about this time of morning being the time for everyone to recharge for the day, to think about the day to come. And I felt comforted because at least I'm not alone. For some people, it's the time before they go to bed, when no one is awake. For me, it's the morning. My boyfriend is sleeping upstairs. I pull myself out of bed to take Penny and Franc out. It's our special time together.

So today I have a new character trait to incorporate into someone I'm writing about in a pilot I'm desperately trying to finish. A friend told me to take my time with it. I've already been taking six months (and eight drafts!). It felt like good advice by inapplicable at the time. And now I know what he means. It's about the work, not about chasing approval or trying to get it done for this thing or that thing. It's about making it the best it can be. And I need to get over my fear that it might not be everything I want it or need it to be. And just finish it because the fear is making me take longer than I should.

And today I need to get back on Media Bistro and do some real research on writing articles.

Dim All the Lights

2009-09-15T09:44:00.000-07:00

I had a thought after watching the Whitney interview on Oprah yesterday. She made a comment about having to dim her light for Bobby Brown. I guess we've seen what happens when one of the great talents tries to dim her light in order to make someone else feel better. It's self-destructive. It's an obvious sign that it is the wrong thing to do.

Then I thought about the way that I dim my light by not appreciating my gift. When you're 22 and you're fresh out of college you don't really think about those things. I know I was so happy that I had a gift and that I had discovered it. And I used it all of the time - I wrote plays, I choreographed dances, I sang. And all of those things felt like they belonged uniquely to me. Those plays and dances and songs were imperfect. My voice was imperfect, but I expressed it with abandon.

As I've mentioned, I'm speaking to college students from my alma mater, Santa Clara University next month and sharing my experiences. I think the fact that I've been asked to do this has set off a bunch of thoughts in my head. Some of them are about where I'm going in my life. Thankfully, the ones that are saying "What the hell have you been doing?" aren't that loud. I'm a stubborn person, so I've been on a path that I've really committed to, one that I thought was absolutely 100% the right one. And while I've learned from it and I've definitely grown from it, it's time to switch it up a bit and try one of the side roads.

I had a Facebook exchange with a good friend yesterday who said she had been asked to go back to our alma mater to speak to a group of students as well and she gave them the hard line. I think that IS important: the "reality check" conversation. But I don't necessarily want to be Franklin Shepard in "Merrily We Roll Along" talking about compromise.

Yesterday is gone...

But what I do want to say to them is remember why you are uniquely you and make that indispensible. It's something I've tried to do my whole life and some times I've succeeded and some times I've failed. But that has always been the M.O. I think the times I forget that, I don't do as well. And the times I do, I soar.

So optimistic, but firm. That's my tone.

I need to take that tone with MYSELF more often.

Too Busy

2009-09-10T16:19:00.000-07:00

Today seems to be whizzing by.

Too busy to update the blog.

Too busy to think about the rest of the new plot points in this pilot.

Not too busy to eat.

Ah...had a hamburger, fries and salad for lunch. Delish.

I love food. In diners.

Putting It All Out There

2009-09-09T17:16:00.000-07:00

My friend Dave once told me that if you really want something, you have to put all of yourself out there in order to reap the most rewards.

And he's a Jesuit Priest. So I trust him.

So today on 9/9/09, I say to the universe, give me all the good fortune that's ready to come my way. I'm ready to have a hit show in New York, a hit show on the air, to be in rehearsals for the next three plays I'm writing as soon as I'm done with them. I'm ready to be the boyfriend of an incredibly satisfied, successful, titan of industry (my current boyfriend, for the record). I'm ready for creativity and financial rewards to abound and be plentiful.

I'm lucky to be inspired by my partner and on 9/9/09, I ask the universe to take it to the next level.

I hope that for everyone I care about.

Morning Dog Walk: What About Today?

2009-09-09T07:57:00.000-07:00

I was on my morning dog walk with Penny and Franc, our two dogs (I'll post some picture soon). As they were dragging me down the street, I started thinking about today. What am I going to do today to make my life better? I'm committing to doing something productive every day for the rest of the month as a bit of a jump start.

Yesterday, it was starting this blog. And look what that produced! I'm flying up to my alma mater to speak about my experiences:

"Please welcome our guest who has been a misunderstood kid from Downey, CA, a New York City playwright, a Los Angelista and noted blogger..." Applause. And scene.

So today, I think I'm going to go on www.mediabistro.com and look up the different ways to make money writing articles. I also should do some research on what kind of exercise program I'm going to approach after P90X. I loved it, but thought towards the end I was overtraining. I met a very handsome guy in the air force who told me about Crossfit. I'll look into that today. I wonder if he was trying to tell me he wanted to train me. In the nude.

Sometimes I can be so dense. I'm off and running. Not literally, although now I'm thinking about that LA Marathon again.

9/9/09

2009-09-09T07:53:00.000-07:00

I'm sharing and embracing in the energy of today. We could all use a little zsa zsa zou (sorry, I was watching the Season 5 closer last night). Thanks, Jen Frances for sending!

This date holds the energy of Nine, the energy of all that is. Nine is also known as the number of completion and it carries the vibrations of all the numbers before it, therefore it is completion. This triple nine gateway carries a mathematical frequency and is at it’s highest on 9/9/09. The opening of this gateway signifies the end of fear.

The frequency of nine is universal it is unconditional love, healing , strength, & higher consciousness. This is a most powerful day to release the pain and limitations of the past, an opportunity to heal, restore and recalibrate connecting with the very encoding of your DNA. We will then be activating from the cellular levels of our being a time we have long awaited for.

Many will feel this shift and the best way to connect with intention is through meditation. Take time to relax, breathe and let your mind and body slow down, slowing down the brain waves so that you receive. One simply has to ask to connect to the 9/9/09 energy, you will be heard by millions of beings of light joyfully awaiting and ready to fulfill your request. Be open and await and listen and know that what you receive is perfect to you.

You are ready for this powerful geometrical frequency of 9 to be received and shift your mind/body/spirit to that of unconditional love and divine connection to the Creator/God.

Take time on this day to consciously release and even physically clear out what is no longer needed in your surrounding. In deciding what needs to be released ask your self what keeps you from feeling joy, move your thoughts and action to a place of alignment with joy. If needed make a list of what you are ready to be done with and know your request is heard and fulfilled. Imagine your physical body surrendering that that is no longer needed and the energy of the old you choose to let go of on this powerful day. No longer a need to look back, avoid the rear view mirror of your past and in trust and faith allow these new energies of higher vibrations to integrate and awaken the Joy within.

As you meditate this day, ask the Creator/God to release to you the highest information possible regarding your specific journey. Take this information into your heart and allow the information in. . Embrace the information and know that you are ready!

Ask, Allow and Receive!

Meatballs

2009-09-08T18:34:00.000-07:00

Not the movie, but an actual recipe. I've been on a meatball kick lately.

Actually, it all started a few months ago when I wanted to make albondigas soup (Mexican Meatball Soup).

So here's a loose recipe for a few different types that have worked lately. Our friends Jen and Steven loved them when we went to see "Being There" at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery on Saturday night.

Everything starts w/ 2 lbs of ground beef (of choice), a couple of eggs and breadcrumbs. Then:

Albondigas - cilantro, olive oil and garlic in a blender or food processor, make a pesto of sorts. Then mix that into the meat.

Putanesca - black olive tapenade, basil, garlic, red pepper flakes mixed into the meat.

Fatty balls - crumbled bacon, basil, garlic, grated parm, green onions chopped fine mixed into the meat.

Roll into little balls. Fry up in a pan with some olive oil. shake the pan every five minutes over medium heat, so that they're brown on all sides.

For the albondigas, I add them to a soup w/ broth, onions, celery, carrots. For the putanesca, I do a spicy marinara to serve them with and for the fatty balls, maybe a nice homemade ketchup (large can of tomato puree, 1/2 cup of brown sugar and 1 cup of apple cider vinegar, plus other spices of your choice - look on the food network website for a real recipe, either Jamie Oliver's or Emeril's habanero/orange).

I'll put the recipe in a later post.

Mmmm...

Expert/Rebel

2009-09-08T14:51:00.000-07:00

So I got a Facebook message today from Barbara Murray, the chair of the SCU Theatre Department today. It was funny because she had just emailed me about what I had been up to and I had just emailed her about teaching last week. She's invited me to come speak to some students about "The Business of the Business." I guess that assumes that I know something. Well, I know a few things. There's nothing like a former professor calling you up because enough time has passed and you're now considered an expert, or at least someone who can share life experiences.

And then I went back in time in the time machine in my head. To a time I've been thinking about a lot lately. When I was an actor/singer/dancer/playwright/choreographer/rebel at Santa Clara University as an English major, double minor in theatre and dance. I did my own thing - asking for understanding rather than permission.

When did I stop being a rebel? I'm still young. I've got some rebel left in me. Actually, I've probably got a lot left in me that I've been storing up for a few years. This would be an interesting time for me to get back to SCU. I'm thinking about the next three plays I want to write at the place where I started writing plays. One of those happens to be a dance theatre version of MEDEA, which is a piece I've been thinking about and "working on" for the past ten years. Maybe I'll spend some time in the new dance studios working with some music and a notebook, just like I did back then.

Actually, I think I'll also bring my copy of Twyla Tharp's book, THE CREATIVE HABIT, with me as well. No unitard this time. Just some barefeet and some loose trousers. That could be fun.

I'm starting to get excited.

Sex and the City, Season 6, Part 2 Revisited

2009-09-08T12:42:00.000-07:00

So yesterday as I was doing some work on this pilot I'm writing, I felt like I needed some inspiration and I had eaten all of the meatballs and cheese in the house.

So I looked through some old DVDs to see what I hadn't watched in a while. And at the same time I was looking on Perez Hilton and saw some pictures from the set of the Sex and the City sequel. So I decided to go back and look at the last 8 episodes of the final season. And because I actually was trying to "raise the stakes" in the story I'm writing, I decided to listen to Michael Patrick King's commentary on the final three episodes of the series.

This is the thing about MPK's commentary on the S&TC DVDs: He loves talking about the brilliant and subtle storytelling he used while writing the series. And that's not a judgment because I'm a sucker who loves to listen to the magician reveal the tricks behind his tricks. I could listen to him all day draw connections between why it had to be THAT Loubatin in THAT particular scene. Because that's how I live my life, making connections that may or may not be there. And MPK actually helped me map out some important story points in my script.

So this is my conclusion about Season Six, Part Two: It's pretty great. Everyone looks amazing. We get to see the balance of tragedy, farce, slapstick, romantic comedy and emotional touchstones. While at the same time referencing the history of the series and giving a wink to the audience who wanted Carrie and Big to get together all along. I love talk like that! The French rap which shows that rap can transcend culture and language. The tutu in Plaza Athenee that references the tutu in the opening credits. The way that Big touches and cares for Carrie when he kisses her in Paris vs. just ravaging her. The full circle of Big saying "Abso-fucking-lutely" when they get back to New York and the character of Carrie vs. the actress of SJP referencing that moment to herself to Big the character vs. the actor Chris Noth. Layer upon layer upon layer of storytelling! Like the layers of tulle Carrie wore when she was waiting for Alexandr to come home at the hotel.

I could go on and on. But I won't.

Thanks, MPK for the inspiration. And I'm eating Triscuits while trying to decide what I want for lunch.

My Facebook Self vs. My Real Self pt 1

2009-09-08T10:09:00.000-07:00

It's sad when you have to look at your Facebook profile to realize what you like or don't like. I'm in the process of adding things to this blog and I had to use my Facebook page as a reference to remind myself of things that define my Point of Loo.

Such as...

My activities range from marathon running (which I'm currently taking a break from - although it looks like 2010 in LA will be the next one) to yoga (I want people to think I'm both centered and flexible...both literally and figuratively). What I left out: eating potato salad, pacing around farmer's markets (my faves are Culver City on Tuesday, West Hollywood on Mondays and Melrose Place on Sundays), and bugging the shit out of my boyfriend.

My fave tv shows include: Sex and the City and The Cosby Show (both for the fashion) AND True Blood and RuPaul's Drag Race (both feature creatures that only come out at night). What's not on there is my new obsession w/ Nurse Jackie, Dance Your Ass Off and Wendy Williams. So if anyone were to go onto my Facebook page, I guess they'd just have an incomplete picture of the person I am. Or at least the person I present to the people I choose to friend or let friend me on Facebook.

It begs the existential question - Who Am I? Or Who Am I To You? Jeez, this is way too much thought for the Tuesday after Labor Day.

I need lunch. And then I'm going to update my Facebook.

Just the Tip

2009-09-08T09:23:00.000-07:00

After yet another weekend of drinking too much, being out too late, and starting the week at a deficit, I thought the best thing to do was start a blog. Like so many others before me. But they say that getting started is the hardest thing to do. And it seems like I've been getting started for quite some time now. I've got a graduate degree in writing from NYU and I've been trying to break into the entertainment industry for a while. Guess what? Nothing's really happening. I've written my plays and gotten them produced or had readings of them. I've written numerous spec scripts and pilots and can get them to various executives and showrunners...

I think the thing to mention here is that I'm not a shitty writer. At least I don't think so. And neither does my mother, my brother, my boyfriend, my best friends and people who think I'm cute and probably would say anything to get into my pants.

And the jury's still out mid-first blog post. The point is that I'm doing everything I should be doing to be the great success I've always fancied myself becoming. Well, everything except put my unique point of view (or Point of Loo) together in a blog.

Wow, this is like overindulgent, verbal masturbation - which I would loathe in a stage play or a piece of performance art, but here seems strangely allowed and appropriate. So I'm going to continue because I'm no where near climaxing...

Well, maybe I should hold off from blowing my wad all at once. This is just the first post. A taste. A tease.

Just the tip, if you will. No need to go all the way in yet. Not without lubrication anyway.