the cookie factory

 the cookie factory may make everyone insane, but it does produce good results.

COOKIES

crazy

COOKIES!

crazier

danger will robinson

note to self: do not leap into the elevator shaft.
you will get through december.
plus, it's no promise for a quick finish.

Body Of Woman Killed In Elevator Accident Wasn't Removed For Hours

holiday right and wrongs

things that aren't right:

delicious, totally inappropriate starbucks calorie counts

the concept of 24hr shopping

macy's definition of personal space

things that are:

dogs that ride the subway, apparently on their own

stepping directly in crosswalk pools that reach your ankles

corner christmas tree sales

Xmas, yet again I have defied you!

i love christmas. i hate christmas. i love beautiful snow laden trees and moon reflected glowy nights. i hate dark days and freezing solitude. i love the rebirth of a fresh year. i hate the emotional upheaval of lost days, endings, and missed moments.

yes, i am a soldier of the winter doldrums. i'm not sure when it started. on the one hand, it seems like it has always been this way, yet on the other, i remember a time when xmas was only about santa clause and presents and school vacation. i think it must have been high school. there was one winter that is pristine in my memory, the penultimate for a young teenager with hope in her heart and stars in her eyes. that makes it sound much more dramatic than it should. but i suppose the important thing was that in the moment, nothing could be better.

and of course, what solidifies such a moment? the moment's end. and once life was once again tarnished by so many things, you are drawn back over and over to that seemingly perfect moment. you polish it reverently, till the edges are smoothed away, till it becomes something it never was, gleaming, perfect, infinite.

remembrances are all well and good. but a pearl is a dangerous memory. nothing in the moment can ever compare to something enhanced by such attention. if you are lucky, you have other good experiences, good days. and with time, these events will also be lifted above themselves. perhaps only your own memories can save you from your memories. the brightness of the new cherished memory dims the glow of the old.

as a child you have endless hope and future opportunity. then you have successes and failures. you lose things and you gain things. as you get farther down your own time line, you begin to see -or imagine you see- the endgame. with the end come the limits, not of your abilities or even your chances but of your time to reach those abilities, fulfill those chances.

how easy it is to get lost in the past, polishing, instead of living and creating new moments to remember a decade from now.

my sister recently talked about getting rid of her "box" -that collection of items that link you physically to memories, people, time. my "box" still lives on the walls of my childhood bedroom--mementos, pictures, posters of productions from high school to college to grad school and beyond. my mother told me she takes my little cousins on trips into "the museum" as they call it. that is frightening.

but i'm not ready to throw my box on the funeral pyre. i'm taking another tactic all together. i'll let them grow dusty, forget about them from time to time. then i'll add new moments to the old. i want to fill the museum of my heart all up till it's full to bursting.

we do this in acting. prepare, prepare, prepare. image, elucidate, fill out the corners of the imagined life, till you walk out on stage and it pours through you unconsciously.

course, the danger is living in the old and not making the new. this is my challenge for the new year. to prepare my real life as i do for the stage, to keep making the memories to out shine the old.

eh, resolutions!

 

bryant park at night and santa claus: the movie

we had a fabulous local for the Doger xmas party this year, the bryant park grill rooftop. much cooler than the obnoxiously decadent Tavern on the Green from years past.  it was wonderful to look out over the ice skaters and the tree. i was supposed to be helping Kate, the photographer, take pictures of Santa with everyone. i was not very diligent about it this year. sorry Kate! but they had a lovely nook for Santa to sit in and we rented him a very Santa-y chair and there wasn't a lot of room for me to help. i did help drink up the wine. :)

all in all, a very Christmas in New York evening.

this is one of my favorite xmas movies. ever. find it. love it.

a xmas howler monkey: otherwise known as the amazing Katrina Rose Dideriksen

you missed the Joe Iconis Christmas Spectacular.

your loss.

i gave you a chance to come. warned you tickets were scarce.

just remember this the next time you eschew my good advice.

Christmas is Coming the Goose is Getting Fat! or rather... the hippo!

I love buying xmas gifts. it is a contest for me with myself- can i get the best gift gag/serious or otherwise for my loved ones.

yes, the Kitty Walk Stroller.

The Singing Turkey Tom

The Daddy Doll

winners

sadly, i have not yet found the perfect winning gift yet.

here there and everywhere

durham is a funny place. actually, i guess anyone's home town is funny. how is it that year after year a place can stay inextricably the same? the scenery changes, like dunes shifting this way and that, and things disappear or leave only an echo in the path of the new. but certain roads still produce the same ache and ghosts lurk in every corner, prompting "what ifs" and long remembrances. a tree marks a perfect kiss, a street sign and a night of tears, a restaurant safekeeps an uncontrollable laugh.

sometimes the roads we've taken and the roads we've yet to choose are so palpable they lay out invitingly, written on the Bandits' stolen map. at such junctions, is it easier to change the path we're on or do the ghostly layers muddle the mind too much? perhaps true wisdom comes in seeing all those choices clearly, detached, seeing both where you've come from and where you are going.

kitty knew i was leaving. maybe b/c we had packed all morning. after dad and kate had taken the last of the things to the car and waited for me, i looked for where she was hiding for a last hug. after sharing my bed with her for the last 6 nights, i thought i deserved one. she was diffident as i picked her up, but with a goodbye i set her at the top of my stairs. she eyed me unimpressed. then, when i reach my hand to pet her head, she hissed at me! hissed! startled, i laid my hand at her feet. she looked at me a full beat, then slowly, without blinking or looking way, she smacked my hand.

i apologized for leaving and asked her not to be mad. but some people just don't pretend.

perfect tree

my Lifetime original movie.

this morning i was woken at 5am by the sweet nothings of hail slamming into my window and freezing cold air streaming through. it took me a second to decide if i was indeed being snowed on from inside the house--in fact, the hail was bouncing off the pain and splattering my face. awesome. :P

 while this morning was an emo video waiting to happen, this evening was the prologue to a tv movie. i love aaron and john to death, but together we're a screenshot from We or Oxygen, not HBO :)
the dj wafted soft rock carols through the rooms, the waiters floated with requisite crabcakes and mini quiches , while the open bar was run by a peculiarly "santas-elfish" man- tiny and squash faced.
the Tavern on the Green is right on central park, outrageously opulent, mirrored walls, chandeliers, and candelabras. our party looked out over the garden. i feigned business with the photographer and the santa in my fancy short dress and heels (my sneakers hidden in the coat check).

but work finished, my reservation was still for 1. and after the car came and picked the boys up, i took the subway home alone.

cue music, go to first commercial.