6/19/08: Ultimate Happiness…And a Chai Tea Latte

Dear Dick Wolf:

Each of us has this idea of what our perfect life would look like. Whom we’d marry, how many kids we’d have (and what we’d name them), the ideal shape of our body, how much money we’d make, who our neighbors would be, the exact dimensions of our walk-in closet…Well, for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to make a living as an actor. And yes, I’ll admit it, I have the dream of displaying a shiny gold statuette or two on my mantle. Who doesn’t want to be recognized for excelling at his or her passion? Well, that mantle is located in a beach house in Malibu, where I live with my cat Ariel, my pug Elvis, my husband Sam, and my amazing closet.

At least, that was my dream until recently.

I visited New York for the first time three years ago. Liev Schreiber was starring in Glengarry Glen Ross and I had to see him. I was crazy about him. I waited for him after the show, hoping that he’d come out and sign my program. I waited…and waited…and waited. Finally – he did. He was perfect. I, on the other hand, had my quintessential “I carried a watermelon” moment. When he finally made his way over to me, I handed him my program, telling him, “I came all the way from L.A. to see you.” He smiled and thanked me. Then, as he was signing, I blurted out, tears in my eyes, “I think you’re GRREAAA(sob, sob)AAT!!!” Now, looking at it in writing, that remark doesn’t seem too watermelon-ish (in fact, the “I threw my underwear at you!” comment to Tom Jones backstage at the Hollywood Bowl would seem to outrank it). Perhaps it was the inflection of my voice. Perhaps I had a slight stalkeresque look on my face. Perhaps Liev didn’t like the shirt I was wearing – who can say. All I know is that he very gently handed my program back to me and bolted. Still, he’d taken the time to sign it.  

The next day, I saw John Lithgow in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. He signed my program. The next year, I met Ralph Fiennes backstage after a performance of Faith Healer. I also got to say hello to Cherry Jones. And Bryan F. O’Byrne told me, outside the theatre after his performance in Shining City, that he saw me sitting in the front row. He was right – I’d scored great seats…I flew back to New York over Labor Day weekend to see Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline star in Mother Courage in Central Park. I brought my vintage Sophie’s Choice poster, hoping they’d sign it. I missed Meryl, but Kevin did. He even personalized it. He was gracious and wonderful.

My point is – New York is amazing. It seems to bring out the best in people. At least, that’s been my experience. Folks are friendly, helpful, accommodating. L.A. isn’t like that. I’ve clammed up since moving here eight years ago. I used to be a ray of sunshine…now I’m a little cloudy. I don’t want to be, but people here are so self-centered. When you pass them on the sidewalk, they rarely say hello. When you’re driving, the car behind you wants to be in front of you. When you walk into a bank or a post office, don’t expect the person ahead of you to hold open the door. And don’t even get me started on the BMW drivers – they’re a special breed of idiots (if you drive a BMW, please disregard that comment). Simply put, it’s hard to keep the selfishness from getting to you.

So, my new dream is this: I want to move to New York. I want to see Shakespeare in the park at will. I want to eat bagels and drink chai tea lattes at little coffee shops downtown, then pop into a nearby theatre for a matinee. I want to carry a notebook around and jot down ideas for plays I may or may not finish writing. I want to perform off-Broadway. I want to perform on Broadway. And, in case you couldn’t tell, I want to be on Law & Order.

The moral of this post? You hold my destiny in the palm of your hand. Hire me and I’ll move! Not that I won’t find ultimate happiness if you don’t, but you’re definitely driving the express train…No pressure, though. You owe me nothing. However, if you want to contribute to making one more person’s life dream come true, consider this your opportunity.

Oh, and for the record: Sam Rockwell, two (Rhett and Ruby), size Halle Berry, enough, Steve Carell and Will Farrell, 20’x 28′.

But it’s OK  – I’ll handle those.

Thank you. Amen.

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Published in: on June 19, 2008 at 11:28 pm  Comments (1)  
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  1. A 20 X 28 walk in closet in NYC?? You must mean inches, not feet, right? 😉 Yes, I think you’d love New York, but the weather sucks about half the time. It’s either brrr or muggy if it isn’t spring or fall. At least you got sunshine in LA. But hey, you can either have the sunshine, or be the sunshine… you’re better at the latter!


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