Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Block, Bitches

One thing about facebook is you get some of the best and worst friend suggestions. Today was one of those days. I got a friend suggestion of someone who can never safely be in my life again. I just wanted to send facebook a memo, "You fucked up, facebook!"

Seeing this person made me ill. I don't get upset anymore, just ill. They did a lot of terrible things to me. Time and time again, I assured myself they were unsafe because they were back on the drugs. Maybe they were unsafe because they didn't get the proper help for their other psych related issues. I also told myself maybe they had changed. Although in the past year the reports I have heard have suggested otherwise.

The last time this person sent me a text, I was watching Live PD with a friend. I saw it and screamed, "MUTHERFUCKER!!"

Needless to say I tried to throw my phone. My friend instead suggested blocking this person's number. Let's just say, when the number was blocked, his dog ran over to me and jumped on my lap. When there is a cute dog sitting on your lap, you can't be angry. It's a sin. Plain and simple.

A few minutes later, I was playing fetch with a terrier like nothing ever happened.

I thought of that and blocked this idiot again. It felt good. My friend is in another state and so is his dog. But I already feel better. There are birds chirping outside my window, I just had a late lunch, and am getting ready to do an assignment for graduate school. I am also getting ready to reapply my lipstick, a new shade matter of fact.

Like nothing ever happened.

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Friday, April 20, 2018

Going Down (Bruce Springsteen)

Men are predictable creatures and they love it when women fight over them. I discovered that hard and fast when I was 21. The more you are willing to cat fight, the more it shows you really care.

My man at the time, Sean and I, had just discovered Myspace. He proposed on the 3rd date and I said yes. What could possibly go wrong? Sure, we had enough issues for several subscriptions, mostly for several months worth of 12 Step Meetings and then some. Hell, if we were a drag family our house name would be Cocodependence.

Anyway, Sean had been looking up his old girlfriends. One was a high school sweetheart who he had drawn blood with, because it was clear everyone here was about good decisions. I asked Sean if he wanted to friend her and he said he wasn't sure. I said Sadie had meant a lot to him and it would hurt me. Sean promised not to.

Well Sean lies of course. And he friends Sadie. We got into fight number one. Sean tells me that at this point in her life she is a single mom who had a kid with a guy she is on again/off again with. She lives in her mom's basement and is much "huskier" than she was in high school. Sadie apparently is still working at the same day care center too. Needless to say he assures me she isn't a threat.

Sadie has other ideas. She starts posting shamelessly on Sean's wall. It's like several times a day every damn day. While I began to doubt her work at the daycare center, I also was getting pissed off at the nerve of this woman. Sean swore up and down he told her about me. But words are useless to a woman who's determined. We had another fight.

At this point it was becoming utterly apparent Sean and I were far from compatible. Nonetheless, we persisted. A third fight erupted when Sadie hijacked his blog. Sean also let it eek that Sadie was back with her baby daddy, Rob. However, she was unhappy and wanted out of her house, her job, and her relationship. She pitched it to Sean to rescue her. We had another fight where I told him it was Sadie or I. Sean, being a man and all about seeing his penis hard, said he wasn't choosing.

So I decided not to be so paranoid and sent Sadie a friend request. If she was just Sean's friend as he insisted, she would have no problem. I went to Sadie page and she was a fan of the Backstreet Boys to the point where I could swear in a court of law that she broke them up. Sadie did not accept my friend request.

There was an event in town and Sean let it slip that he invited her and he was afraid she was going to show up. Now I was done. This was the fight to end all fights. I told him it was Sadie or me. Sean said Sadie wouldn't leave him alone and that I could talk to her. I was ready to claw this bitch's eyes out. I sent her the nastiest, hate laden message ever. Sadie replied back. She claimed Sean had told her I had issues with them still talking and she had offered to back off several times, but Sean told her not to worry about it.

Sean denied this and sent her a nasty message. He then disfriended her. I was livid over the backbone this bitch had. The nerve. I remember kvetching to a friend at the time who looked at me and said, "Why are you saying shit about a woman you never met?"

"Cause she's a cunt who needs to get her own life, her own man, and stop stealing mine."

My friend then said something, "Here's this asshole, he's got two women fighting over him. You're going after her. That's what he wants. Because it takes the attention off of him being a jerk. As far as I see it, he's the problem."

BAM!

My friend's words entered my brain. That worthless waste of space had been playing us both. He had lied from the beginning about friending her, and then was talking about me behind my back. I confronted Sean and he tried to back up his behavior by claiming Sadie's family had been nice to him when he had no one because his mom was married to a junkie at the time. I didn't care. I was fucking done.

I continued to pick fights about Sadie whenever I wanted, and Sean continued to sit in the dog house. The trust was gone, and I just wanted to torture his ass. Each time he did something I didn't like I assured him he could always call Sadie. She would take him back. Needless to say, as our other issues became harder to combat let alone deny, Sadie became a more frequent excuse to fight.

Sean then informed me I was "abusive." To which I replied, "Mutherfucker, I wouldn't be abusing you if you weren't such a worthless liar."

Other problems became harder to overcome, such as Sean's reluctance to work and his willingness to have me support him. Additionally, Sean was pressuring me to drop out of college and move into his mother's basement. Someone had to start making good decisions and it wasn't going to be him. So I ended the relationship.

To no one's shock the break up was terrible. Sadie of course sent me a hate note or five. I thought about tearing into her, but instead I blocked her. By this time, I knew Sean was the problem. For as cheap as the shots that she took at me were, I knew Sean was also giving her the ammo. I also began to pity her, because clearly her life was so empty she needed to do the bidding for a high school boyfriend, and clearly she expected a man with nothing going for him to rescue her. My friend was right, this asshole was the problem.

If I could go back in time I would have said to him, "You want to contact Sadie, go right ahead mutherfucker. You both live in your mother's basement and have a problem telling the truth. I think you are a match made in heaven. You're her problem now."

These days I don't throw down over a man for anything. In the end, it just stroke his member.......I mean ego. And it gives a liar and game player control. It's not worth it, especially since they all have the same toy and do the same two tricks. Babe, if you are willing to fight for him, he's all yours. You might think you are hot shit because I got nothing and you have him. Well nothing is better than the asshole you are pitting yourself against another woman for. Just saying.
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Friday, March 23, 2018

One News Network and Other Adventures

During a Friday jaunt in midtown I ran into America One. I had never heard of them before, but the newscaster looked like a white college frat boy rapist. Yes, the one you wouldn't leave your drink unattended with.

He was interviewing people about whether or not teachers should be armed. The answer to that is no, teachers should not be armed. He asked me and I told him what I thought. Arming teachers meant more issues with weapons whether they were being discharged in the middle of class or a troubled student finding them and taking their own life. It's a whole new set of complications. I said this not knowing who I was speaking to and the entitled white man behind the mic condescendingly said, "Thank you!" That's when he yanked the mic away from my face.

What had I done? My opinion had been an informed one. I hadn't insulted him or the two Trumkins from Maryland who want to arm every teacher. It's a different opinion.

Then I googled it. YUP! I was talking to some real Trump lovers. To me this was crazy and funny in a way that things could only happen in New York. I wanted to say to this future Ted Bundy, "Sir, you are in the liberal hub of the East Coast. I am also pan. If you don't know what that means look it up. And FYI shit for brains, this is my backyard, sucka!"

It always amazes me how conservatives whine about liberals being closed minded. Yet when you disagree with them they are always the first to shut down. I will be the first to listen to anyone with a differing opinion. Will I agree? Not necessarily, but I will listen.

Personally, I feel we need gun control in this country. Too many children are dying in school where they should be safe. Too many people minding their own business are being picked off by nutcases who obtained firearms. Why are people owning enough weapons to start their own militia? And for the love of Jesus, why is the NRA not sympathetic to the loss of these families. We are not taking your guns, we are just making sure people who shouldn't have them don't have them. I am entitled to be safe as are all hard working, law abiding people.

My life has also been touched by mental illness as I have blogged about in the past. While my previous partner is no longer a part of my life, the split was horrendous because he believed he did not need to be medicated. After the split, I found out there was a firearms charge on his record he neglected to tell me about. Because it was dropped to a misdemeanor (he cut a deal apparently) he can still legally obtain a firearm.

While my previous partner had a good heart and a kind soul, in the midst of a psychotic episode he was capable of anything. The fact that he and others like him can obtain weapons and there are people willing to sell without asking questions because they are self-righteous gun nuts makes me very nervous.

Before you tell me my ex is just a nut, he's a vet. A lot of vets don't think they need medicated for PTSD and one shot up a clinic a few weeks ago. Many vets come back and are never the same, and these same folks who don't feel they need medicated also have service weapons handy. While unfortunately many also kill themselves rather than innocent people, it's also a hard reality that the United States government was their arms dealer.

I am a friend to vets, but I am also aware of what life is like with someone who has a mental illness with psychotic features. I am aware of what a good day is like before something sets them off, and all of a sudden they believe with all their heart that Subway is a terrorist organization. And then the rant comes that Isis is in fact operating out of the chain eatery and they can no longer go there. While it seems funny to write about, it's beyond awful to see someone's mind swallow them up. But it's also potentially deadly when they are able to obtain a weapon.

When the Las Vegas shooting occurred, I remember someone asking me what would possess someone to do that. I explained psych illness. They said the man had no record of being mentally ill. I explained a lot of mentally ill people at times don't think they are sick. This same person explained he didn't know how someone could do that, or someone who would think of that.

That's when I remembered the time my former partner believed he saw snipers in the windows of our neighborhood, and told me he wished he was armed so he could take them out. These were people doing office tasks for the record as this was New York City. Just let that sink in.

There is the argument that arming teachers will stop shooters, and it might. But again, how are these unstable individuals getting guns? Also, what if a teacher fires a gun and accidentally shoots off their own hand? What if this same teacher kills themselves cleaning the gun? I grew up around guns and clearly these idiots proposing this know nothing about keeping them.

The fact this white boy potential date rapist didn't want to talk to me today says plenty. It says that the issues with guns will continue to be a problem if the closed minded right can't continue to have a dialogue. It says children will continue to die.

Ultimately, while I am glad I got away from my previous partner. In my heart I know while I could walk away from him, until he is medicated he cannot walk away from himself. And those who can't walk away from themselves sometimes walk towards weapons. Saying arming teachers will stop this is like saying hitting a misbehaving child will stop them. It only makes it worse, and arming teachers will only make this worse.

So to the ass weed from One News Network, I hope I made your day shitty. I really do. I got a kick out of the stupid look on your face. It was priceless.


















Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Acting Etc........

Lately I have been making a return to the stage. For years my life has been dedicated to the pursuit of stand up comedy, ventriloquism, and writing. When I did act it was on film and television. I wouldn't have considered myself a stage actress although my bachelors was in acting.

After college, I did audition for summer stock. But I kind of gave up on the whole stage acting thing because it doesn't pay unless you are on Broadway. The Equity stuff that does pay is in regional theater outside of New York. So I figured I would put it on the back burner. While it was a dream deferred, my heart still ached for the live theatre.

The year of 2017 saw me doing a decent amount of modeling, but the television opportunities that came my way were nothing short of disappointing. I lost one due to a conflict and another because it just wasn't meant to be. Other things also weren't meant to be either.

Then I got the chance to do a live show in a haunted house where I worked with full body puppets. The pay wasn't the greatest but it was steady. Not only did I enjoy my fellow actors and puppeteers, but it helped me get back into the groove of doing a run of a live show again.

This Easter I am in a production of The Crucifixion with the Family Rep. We have two Jesus's, one is a black break dancer and the other is a woman of color. Judas is a black man who sings country. And then I am Simon Peter. We are helping to make one of the greatest stories ever told representative of people other than white Christians. We are giving Christians of color a voice, but most importantly queer Christians a voice.

With The Family I also did a play reading where my character had a secret. The role was funny, quirky, and deep. If allowed the chance, I would like to do it again when the one acts are presented in full form.

I am also now part of a one man show from a comic who I adore. I am his "dream girl." (More to come later).

I am also staging my one woman show which is becoming more and more theatrical and less and less standupish.

While this return to the stage has been a surprise it has also been a wonderful one at that. I am a better listener, and it is helping to inform both my standup ad my writing.

What will come next? Hell if I know. But these New York stage credits, I kind of like em.

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Monday, March 19, 2018

Happy Birthday Yusef Hawkins

Yusef was killed in 1989 in Brooklyn. His cause of death was not only racial profiling and jealousy, but also gun violence. Unfortunately since that time nothing has changed and the conflicts and conversations keep repeating themselves. While his name has faded from memory the issues are still the same. Today Yusef would have been 45. Honor him today by becoming more compassionate, educated on gun violence, and vowing to end racial profiling.


Saturday, March 17, 2018

St. Patrick's Day

My great grandmother was 100 percent Irish. She loved her whiskey, loved her cards, and absolutely loved cigarettes. As a matter of fact, great grandmother was so Irish she even got into a fight with a woman wearing orange on St. Patrick's Day.

Apparently she and my great grandfather used to play cards with another couple. The women, who were both completely Irish, would have very visible hand signals so they could cheat during their card games.

Great grandmother was supposed to give up smoking because she was getting sick. But she had other ideas. She would open the window and my great grandfather would ask if she was smoking. She said there was a fire in the alley and he didn't ask any more questions. Apparently, that alley was very fire prone.

She died long before I was born, but since she was my dad's grandmother she got him hooked on corn beef and cabbage. My mother, who is German born, had to learn to make that for my dad when they got married. While it was the bane of her existence for several years she rose to the occasion. Yet in that process I got hooked on corn beef and cabbage too.

Alas, I took after my great grandmother in several ways. I have a foul mouth if you have ever spoken to me for very long. I loved whiskey so much they made me quit. I loved cigarettes and they made me quit those too. I adore political arguments, bullshit or not. And did I mention I am lousy and am thinking of cheating next time I play?

I also have her triangular smile, the one where my whole mouth doesn't open. It's the Irish smile. It's the smile that allowed me to be a natural ventriloquist,

Either way, I don't believe St. Patrick's Day is about getting trashed. It's about celebrating the contributions of the Irish Americans. It's about celebrating the contributions of my family members who are doctors, lawyers, pharmacists, physician's assistants, engineers, entertainers, writers, musicians, nurses, community organizers, and just all around characters.

Now have a drink. And when you kiss a Chinese leprechaun think of my great grandmother. Or don't do that, that's weird. We are all Irish today. Now don't get arrested by that Irish cop. xoxo

PS. My great grandmother said your best friend was a dollar bill. Now buy my shit.

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Thursday, March 15, 2018

Interview with Marvin Felix Camillo Valetine, Jr aka Panchito

The Family Rep company has a reading series March 17, 2018 at 6 PM at the Cornelia Street Cafe



1. Tell us about your father the founder of The Family and his legacy?

My father, Marvin F. Camillo, founded The Family in 1972 with Colleen Dewhurst and the assistance of Joan Potter in 1972 after conducting theater workshops in Sing Sing and Bedford Hills Prisons through The Street Theater. The company was created to give the ex-cons a place to continue their growth iin theater while allowing them to rehabilitate and adapt to outside living. Many plays were born into this company most notably Short Eyes, an OBIE and Drama Desk award winner for best play and best director (my father) which was written by Miguel Pinero, a Sing Sing inmate at the time. My father went on to successfully run The Family putting on many productions throughout the United States, parts of Europe and even Cuba, until his untimely passing in 1988. Other accomplishments of my father: Cast in South Pacific, Starred in Amiri Baraka's Dutchman, Starred as Walter Lee in The Raisin in the Sun, studied under the guidance of Vinnette Carol and his last performance noted was playing Arturo Shomburg with Miriam Colon playing his wife for CUNY TV.  

Marvin Camillo and Colleen Dewhurst

Marvin, Jr. 



2. What inspired the reading series?

My love for putting on plays and giving opportunities to anyone that wants to take that chance at something they thought they could never do. Also, I love to give people the opportunity to go see an enjoyable show and still be able to pay their rent. 

3. Your play, Petty @ The Pedi is featured as a part of the series. What inspired it?
Moments in my life! More specifically, I had a few occasions where I would go have the Green Tea Treatment at a Mani/Pedi spot and these amazingly humorous situations would occur. So in this short play, I wrote about a few of the situations and made it into one crazy scene.

Some inmates at Sing Sing from a Family Workshop


4. What is your ultimate theatre goal?
To create a community of supportive artists that uplift and support each other. I firmly believe in the African proverb Ubuntu; meaning I am because we are and to take it deeper, I eat you eat, I strive you strive, I grow you grow. 

Some family members after a fundraiser. They come in all walks of life. One might look a lil familiar. 



5. Where can people find out more about The Family?
We have a website under construction, but we are able to be seen on Facebook as The Family Repertory Company, Instagram Thefamilyrepertorycompany, Twitter TheFamRepCo and via our email thefamily.lafamilia@gmail.com