Tuesday, August 17, 2010


Ok I totally can't leave it like that. You all are the best. And her birthday party was a total success. She managed to pull her tiny little three year old self together and have a wonderful time. Four of her friends came. The theme was whales--selected by none other than herself of course. And thanks to Etsy, man did I have super cute whale-themed cupcake toppers and stickers.

I'm so fascinated watching the raw emotion of being three. Nothing is filtered. Nothing is held back. When she's happy she laughs. When she's sad she sobs. When people are singing "Happy Birthday" to her she feels uncomfortable because everyone is looking at her. I know this feeling. What do you do during that agonizing minute and a half when everyone is singing "Happy Birthday" and looking at you and you are to simply sit and listen? If you are the Bean you do this:

And honestly, that's kinda what I want to do every time a group of people sings "Happy Birthday" to me. It is hard to just sit there, smile, and listen.

I'm still thinking a lot about how I don't feel things as strongly any more. Or maybe I just don't allow myself to feel things as strongly any more. I have another job. Another good one as it turns out. But it's a little scary to let myself just be thrilled about it. I always feel like I have to couch my excitement in something so I don't end up disappointed. I kind of think that, ironically, actors learn to feel things less. We can't want jobs or opportunities or accolades because in this business we just really really rarely get them. I, for instance, am continuing my remarkable run of ending up on the cutting room floor. Remember the movie from exactly a year ago as it turns out? Well, recently I did this really hilarious web advertisement for the video game Civilization V. Doc Hubby and I happen to be totally addicted to Civilization which made the whole thing all the more sweet. I had a really funny short scene to do. A good actor playing my husband. I never dreamed that we'd be cut. Here's the final video. Look carefully and you'll see me smacking the hell out of a sock puppet, but snip snip snip goes my scene. My record is, like, 8 and 0 for having lines cut from anything on film. Anything. What's up with that, yo? Hm. So I have to stop hoping my lines will end up in whatever I shoot and just be glad I can pay for preschool.

Maybe that's my problem. Maybe the people who really succeed don't let that wanting dim. Maybe that's what drives their ambition. Frankly, I'd rather be basically happy all of the time.

But in this case I am happy. I have a new job. And that's thrilling. I will turn 41 during my second Broadway show. Hopefully when the cast and crew sing Happy Birthday to me I will be able to sit there and just listen.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Horror of Her Birthday

It would appear that turning three is a nightmare.

I don't remember so I can't really say.

But the hot mess of misery my Bean has been since Monday...the actual DAY...and today...the day that Doc Hubby and I are hauling 44 tons of shit to the park for a party for hopefully four kids but we'll see if one gets lost on the way since his Nanny has no idea how to find a street and a cross street...so maybe only three.

I mean cupcakes suck. Presents suck. Making your own pizzas sucks. Pizza sucks. Spray parks suck. Parties suck.

We apparently suck the most.

No wonder she's so miserable.

Terrific threes, huh? Someone text me when they arrive.

I just heard a kid wailing from the street below. Five stories down. Pretty sure that was her.

I'm about to go sweat off the ten pounds of weight I have gained this summer. Except that I'll simultaneously put twice as much on eating cupcakes and tiny whale fluffernutters.

Oh and finally. Sarcasm doesn't work with three years olds. So my biggest weapon is basically rendered useless.