On Saturday and Sunday my cast did a great job performing "How to Speak Woman." The Sunday performance was particularly fun. The audience loved it and we all went out afterwards to celebrate. It was such a pleasure to work with professional, talented, positive people!
On another note, please accept my apologies - "Sleeping Handsome" has been cancelled.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
in Berlin
Already there's so much to say...
I'm here in Berlin, one of my favorite cities ever. I was here in August of 2006 on my "world tour" - 10 weeks in Africa and Central Europe - and now I am back. But this time I am doing a program called "Young American Jews Meet Modern Germany" which will soon be renamed "Germany Up Close." It is run by Dr. Dagmar Pruin, a theologian and fascinating woman who is a professor at Humboldt University here in Berlin. (Not the one in California, although that one is named after the same person.)
Anyway, the focus of this trip is Jewish life in Germany in the present, and in order to understand the full scope, we have been learning about history and visiting many memorials and historical sites. I'm fascinated, just devouring every tour guide and German greeter we meet with questions and discussion. (Surprise, I'm curious.)
We met with Karsten Voigt at the Federal Foreign Office - he has a fascinating history of nurturing the Jewish voice in Germany as he believes that the first Jews to be killed in the Nazi regime were really the most advanced socio-political thinkers of the day and the Jewish community is inherently aligned with his political views. Jews have been living in what is now Germany since the time of the Roman Empire - as long as the Germanic tribes, so the history is inextricably linked.
We attended a very full lecture by Peter Berger at the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung on the connections between relativism and fundamentalism - that these are two parallel responses to the challenges of modernity, and that both are detrimental to social order.
Visiting the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe was interesting and moving for me despite the fact that I had been there on my previous visit to Berlin. I had many new thoughts and questions. The main thing that came to mind was the "frog in the pot" idea - that little by little the heat is turned up and the frog ends up boiling to death, trying to acclimate at each juncture. Jews tried to accept the civil rights abuses, then the human rights abuses and were finally killed by the Nazis. We can't wait until people are being shot or gassed to react. As is written on a plaque in Bebelplatz, where 20-50,000 books were burned, societies that first begin by burning books later burn people. So true in the case of the Nazis. The memorial itself drives this point home through symbolism - the pillars begin at ground level on the edge of the space but if you walk toward the center, the ground keeps changing and you're eventually surrounded by huge pillars that are two or three times your height. It feels scary and unknown in there, as if you are hiding, hearing the sounds of others but rarely seeing them. As Joe pointed out, you can't fit other than in single file, so you are alone. By not being able to band together, you lose a lot of power, and this is what regimes like the Nazis want.
Lejb Langfus wrote in 1944 that Jewish women on the horribly cramped cattle cars to the camps exchanged their wedding rings for a sip of water...they were so desperate! I thought of Esau in Genesis and how he sold his birthright to Jacob for a hot meal - he said "what use in the birthright to me when I am on the point of death?" This is always read as Esau "spurning" the birthright but if we consider the desperation a person feels when starved, perhaps there is another way to look at his situation and Jacob should have taken the high road.
This morning we visited the Wannsee House where the conference of high-ranking officials took place to plan the Final Solution on 20 January 1942. Our guide, Elke Gryglevski, lived in Israel as a volunteer in teh Action Reconciliation Services for Peace, which helps countries that were negatively affected by the Nazi regime. There is a much stronger relationship between Israel and Germany than I was previously aware of.
We also visited Mahnmal Gleis 17, where Jews were carted off to the camps from the Grunewald train station - just a few feet from the nearest house. In fact, this neighborhood was 40% Jewish before the war. The memorial was beautifully symbolic of the weakening of society when some elements are removed - it was a cement wall with human body shapes hollowed out. People just disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth when they were taken away to the camps.
I'm here in Berlin, one of my favorite cities ever. I was here in August of 2006 on my "world tour" - 10 weeks in Africa and Central Europe - and now I am back. But this time I am doing a program called "Young American Jews Meet Modern Germany" which will soon be renamed "Germany Up Close." It is run by Dr. Dagmar Pruin, a theologian and fascinating woman who is a professor at Humboldt University here in Berlin. (Not the one in California, although that one is named after the same person.)
Anyway, the focus of this trip is Jewish life in Germany in the present, and in order to understand the full scope, we have been learning about history and visiting many memorials and historical sites. I'm fascinated, just devouring every tour guide and German greeter we meet with questions and discussion. (Surprise, I'm curious.)
We met with Karsten Voigt at the Federal Foreign Office - he has a fascinating history of nurturing the Jewish voice in Germany as he believes that the first Jews to be killed in the Nazi regime were really the most advanced socio-political thinkers of the day and the Jewish community is inherently aligned with his political views. Jews have been living in what is now Germany since the time of the Roman Empire - as long as the Germanic tribes, so the history is inextricably linked.
We attended a very full lecture by Peter Berger at the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung on the connections between relativism and fundamentalism - that these are two parallel responses to the challenges of modernity, and that both are detrimental to social order.
Visiting the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe was interesting and moving for me despite the fact that I had been there on my previous visit to Berlin. I had many new thoughts and questions. The main thing that came to mind was the "frog in the pot" idea - that little by little the heat is turned up and the frog ends up boiling to death, trying to acclimate at each juncture. Jews tried to accept the civil rights abuses, then the human rights abuses and were finally killed by the Nazis. We can't wait until people are being shot or gassed to react. As is written on a plaque in Bebelplatz, where 20-50,000 books were burned, societies that first begin by burning books later burn people. So true in the case of the Nazis. The memorial itself drives this point home through symbolism - the pillars begin at ground level on the edge of the space but if you walk toward the center, the ground keeps changing and you're eventually surrounded by huge pillars that are two or three times your height. It feels scary and unknown in there, as if you are hiding, hearing the sounds of others but rarely seeing them. As Joe pointed out, you can't fit other than in single file, so you are alone. By not being able to band together, you lose a lot of power, and this is what regimes like the Nazis want.
Lejb Langfus wrote in 1944 that Jewish women on the horribly cramped cattle cars to the camps exchanged their wedding rings for a sip of water...they were so desperate! I thought of Esau in Genesis and how he sold his birthright to Jacob for a hot meal - he said "what use in the birthright to me when I am on the point of death?" This is always read as Esau "spurning" the birthright but if we consider the desperation a person feels when starved, perhaps there is another way to look at his situation and Jacob should have taken the high road.
This morning we visited the Wannsee House where the conference of high-ranking officials took place to plan the Final Solution on 20 January 1942. Our guide, Elke Gryglevski, lived in Israel as a volunteer in teh Action Reconciliation Services for Peace, which helps countries that were negatively affected by the Nazi regime. There is a much stronger relationship between Israel and Germany than I was previously aware of.
We also visited Mahnmal Gleis 17, where Jews were carted off to the camps from the Grunewald train station - just a few feet from the nearest house. In fact, this neighborhood was 40% Jewish before the war. The memorial was beautifully symbolic of the weakening of society when some elements are removed - it was a cement wall with human body shapes hollowed out. People just disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth when they were taken away to the camps.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
I'm directing a show!
I am directing "How to Speak Woman" by Ray Payton, produced by Theatervision/Playtime. It will perform at the National Comedy Theater on December 22 and 23 at 5pm.
It's really exciting because I have put together a great cast - Alex Rascovar, Julia Wolfermann, Hermann Eppert and Kristen Abate. Van Truster is assistant directing.
"How to Speak Woman" is the story of David, a lovably clueless guy who gets dumped by Tabitha and learns from a mysterious man named Grayson how to have a happy relationship with Debbie.
It's exciting to be on the other side of the script, but don't worry - I'm not done acting. On December 27, my other show, Sleeping Handsome, goes up at Nicu's Spoon Theater.
For tickets to "How to Speak Woman" please visit http://www.ovationtix.com/trs/cal/167
For tickets to "Sleeping Handsome" please email info@spoontheater.org
Hope to see you at the theaters!
It's really exciting because I have put together a great cast - Alex Rascovar, Julia Wolfermann, Hermann Eppert and Kristen Abate. Van Truster is assistant directing.
"How to Speak Woman" is the story of David, a lovably clueless guy who gets dumped by Tabitha and learns from a mysterious man named Grayson how to have a happy relationship with Debbie.
It's exciting to be on the other side of the script, but don't worry - I'm not done acting. On December 27, my other show, Sleeping Handsome, goes up at Nicu's Spoon Theater.
For tickets to "How to Speak Woman" please visit http://www.ovationtix.com/trs/cal/167
For tickets to "Sleeping Handsome" please email info@spoontheater.org
Hope to see you at the theaters!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sleeping Handsome
I've been cast as Morgan, the evil princess witch in "Sleeping Handsome" at Nicu's Spoon Theater on 38th Street. The show is really fun, the script is very funny, and the cast is great. I hope to see you all December 27-January 5! I will put the details on my acting website soon.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Blue Cliff Monastery
I spent the last five days doing sitting and walking meditation, listening to dharma talks with Thich Nhat Hanh and learning from the monks and nuns of Blue Cliff, Deer Park and Plum Village Monasteries.
This experience was so powerful. I resisted it for the first 24 hours or so - too much to do at home, didn't like the cold weather in my tent and so much outdoor time (sitting meditation, dharma talks, meals - all outside in very chilly climes). At my first "dharma sharing group" I debated in my mind whether to share that I was actually not having a very good time. Most of the people in my group were feeling blissful, peaceful, grateful to be there, and I felt like a nasty grump for wishing things were different. I thought to myself, why bother telling these people how I feel? They won't understand and they will just think that I am a complainer; someone who only focusses on the negative. But I figured, I can say it for myself, and for anyone who might be too shy to say what they really think. And through my honesty, I learned something. I began to feel hopeful that I had the potential to make a true change in myself.
In "touching the earth" I learned from Sister Chun Khong about the qualities we inherit from our ancestors, and how we must acknowledge both the positive and the negative. I realized that I have never dealt with my relationship with my father since the day he died - I pretty much locked it away and assumed that since he was dead, my relationship with him was over. But I learned that Papa is not really dead. He is manifesting himself differently now. So I must explore the spectrum of him. I can thank him for the wonderful gifts he has given me and pour the negatives into the earth to purify myself.
Imagining that Hannah is not dead, but is now a different manifestation of herself is a challenging but somewhat liberating notion. I may discover new things about Hannah even though I can no longer speak to her and sit with her the way I used to. I am thinking a lot about the elements that came together to produce Hannah and where those elements are now that she has changed manifestations. This doesn't mean I am not devastated to have lost her physical manifestation, nor that I am not questioning why it had to happen. But I am open to a new phase in my life, that I have not chosen but is nevertheless my reality.
This experience was so powerful. I resisted it for the first 24 hours or so - too much to do at home, didn't like the cold weather in my tent and so much outdoor time (sitting meditation, dharma talks, meals - all outside in very chilly climes). At my first "dharma sharing group" I debated in my mind whether to share that I was actually not having a very good time. Most of the people in my group were feeling blissful, peaceful, grateful to be there, and I felt like a nasty grump for wishing things were different. I thought to myself, why bother telling these people how I feel? They won't understand and they will just think that I am a complainer; someone who only focusses on the negative. But I figured, I can say it for myself, and for anyone who might be too shy to say what they really think. And through my honesty, I learned something. I began to feel hopeful that I had the potential to make a true change in myself.
In "touching the earth" I learned from Sister Chun Khong about the qualities we inherit from our ancestors, and how we must acknowledge both the positive and the negative. I realized that I have never dealt with my relationship with my father since the day he died - I pretty much locked it away and assumed that since he was dead, my relationship with him was over. But I learned that Papa is not really dead. He is manifesting himself differently now. So I must explore the spectrum of him. I can thank him for the wonderful gifts he has given me and pour the negatives into the earth to purify myself.
Imagining that Hannah is not dead, but is now a different manifestation of herself is a challenging but somewhat liberating notion. I may discover new things about Hannah even though I can no longer speak to her and sit with her the way I used to. I am thinking a lot about the elements that came together to produce Hannah and where those elements are now that she has changed manifestations. This doesn't mean I am not devastated to have lost her physical manifestation, nor that I am not questioning why it had to happen. But I am open to a new phase in my life, that I have not chosen but is nevertheless my reality.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Show's over, folks
Thank you to all the people who came to see my show. You're out of the closet now!
Joe, Ryan, Amy, Alexandra and Ira, Amelie, Hilla and Asaf. You guys are awesome!
Hope to see you offstage soon.
Joe, Ryan, Amy, Alexandra and Ira, Amelie, Hilla and Asaf. You guys are awesome!
Hope to see you offstage soon.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Only One More Performance!
The show opened last night and I had a few friends in the audience. It went really well. Come see it Friday or Saturday at 9pm!
Manhattan Repertory Theatre
303 West 42nd St 3rd Floor
Reservations (646) 329-6588
$20
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The Electra Complex
I'm shooting a film! It's called "The Electra Complex" and I play Martha Freud, a modern reimagining of the famous analyst's wife. I'm super excited!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
The Emmys
The Quick and Dirty:
Elizabeth Perkins should have won.
I would love to see the backstage fight between Ryan and Paula after his weed gaffe!
Patricia Heaton is gorgeous, and she's one of my idols.
Katherine Heigl IS funny! And her mom is adorable.
The Late Night with Conan O'Brien people are so clever and so in the moment.
It's lame that they censored Sally Field's war comment, but of course it's Fox.
The Sopranos are right: this country is run by gangsters.
Elizabeth Perkins should have won.
I would love to see the backstage fight between Ryan and Paula after his weed gaffe!
Patricia Heaton is gorgeous, and she's one of my idols.
Katherine Heigl IS funny! And her mom is adorable.
The Late Night with Conan O'Brien people are so clever and so in the moment.
It's lame that they censored Sally Field's war comment, but of course it's Fox.
The Sopranos are right: this country is run by gangsters.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Six Years Today
Perhaps September 11, 2001 is like our generation's JFK assassination. "Where were you when the towers were hi,?" New Yorkers sometimes ask each other. Of course I remember exactly where I was when I heard, exactly what I thought, exactly what I did afterwards. Now it has been six years.
As I watched a couple hours of the name reading today, my heart went out to the thousands of families of the victims. Some of them seemed as pained as ever. Of course, I know what it is like to lose someone to a senseless tragedy. On a day like today, Hannah is such a part of my thoughts that I almost don't feel alone. Her death, her absence are weights I wear as I wade through the day. Gray skies reinforce the sobriety of the day.
As I'm sure the September 11th families feel of their lost ones, every new experience is a question for me - what would Hannah have thought about this? What would she have said? When I see a movie, I wish I could call her up to discuss it. When I'm excited, my first thought is still to call her to share. When I have a few extra minutes on the upper west side, my reflex is still to ask her if she wants to meet me at the Starbucks on 93rd Street. I don't cry every day anymore, but on some level I think I will never completely accept or understand that Hannah is gone. It doesn't seem possible, it doesn't seem right and it doesn't seem to serve any purpose.
As I watched a couple hours of the name reading today, my heart went out to the thousands of families of the victims. Some of them seemed as pained as ever. Of course, I know what it is like to lose someone to a senseless tragedy. On a day like today, Hannah is such a part of my thoughts that I almost don't feel alone. Her death, her absence are weights I wear as I wade through the day. Gray skies reinforce the sobriety of the day.
As I'm sure the September 11th families feel of their lost ones, every new experience is a question for me - what would Hannah have thought about this? What would she have said? When I see a movie, I wish I could call her up to discuss it. When I'm excited, my first thought is still to call her to share. When I have a few extra minutes on the upper west side, my reflex is still to ask her if she wants to meet me at the Starbucks on 93rd Street. I don't cry every day anymore, but on some level I think I will never completely accept or understand that Hannah is gone. It doesn't seem possible, it doesn't seem right and it doesn't seem to serve any purpose.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
From Forgiveness to Lord of the Flies...
Last night, I went to hear Susannah Heschel speak at BJ. She is a professor at Dartmouth and the daughter of the late Abraham Joshua Heschel, a pioneer of Jewish thought. One of his famous phrases was to "pray with your feet" - meaning to march in Selma with MLK.
The talk by SH was on the topic of forgiveness, since Yom Kippur is rapidly approaching. She began by saying that she feels allergic to the word forgiveness as our society understands it - all the swallowing of anger, the false "I forgive you"s that are thrown around. I tend to agree with this - I can forgive someone if they are very sincere about making amends and committing to change for the future. Repeatedly accepting someone's apology while they continue to wrong you isn't forgiveness - it's stupidity and self-abuse.
The next point she made was about forgiveness as it is misunderstood - when it is really understanding (as in the case of an abusive parent who turned out himself to have been abused, so the child understands and "forgives" them for doing it.) I agreed that in a way it's not possible to forgive because the circumstances are complicated by extenuating circumstance. But what I think is that at a certain point in our adult lives, we have to examine the experiences we had and ask ourselves how long we will make that our excuse for the way we are now. We can spend the rest of our lives bemoaning the hand we were dealt, or we can decide to make a new start. For some, this is a change of attitude. For others, this means psychotherapy. But for all, it is taking adult responsibility.
Finally, Prof. Heschel made the case for "being a busybody," by which she meant interfering and getting involved when you think you can help people resolve their disputes. In our culture, we are often told to "mind our own beeswax." But the truth is that from the highest levels, we also value poking our nose in the business of others, and in fact we feel guilty when we wait too long to do this - clearly, we should have gotten involved in WWII earlier to save more Jewish lives, and there have been countless genocides and human rights situations that have warranted intervention since then.
So, my question is this: on what level are we comfortable with intervention? When I'm on the subway or the sidewalk, I often cringe at the way parents scream at their children, berating them for perceived flaws or missteps. Should I say something?
The other day, I was standing in line at a box office and there were two women behind me. One got out of line for a moment to read the fine print on a poster about the play. When she stepped back, the other woman wouldn't let her back to her place. She said the woman hadn't asked her to hold the place. Of course the other woman countered with "I didn't think I had to - I thought it was implied." Now, I'm not really judging one or the other, although I figure it's just one person, let her back in line, right? But that's not really the point. The point is, they got into a screaming match, complete with expletives, and I finally turned around and just said, "I can't believe you're having this conversation." Why create so much strife over such a little thing? I didn't think I could stand there and mind my own business as if this was acceptable - because sometimes when we don't have anyone to check our behavior, we get out of control. 9th graders know this from reading Lord of the Flies.
It's a fine line, knowing when to intervene, when to mind our own business. Please comment!
The talk by SH was on the topic of forgiveness, since Yom Kippur is rapidly approaching. She began by saying that she feels allergic to the word forgiveness as our society understands it - all the swallowing of anger, the false "I forgive you"s that are thrown around. I tend to agree with this - I can forgive someone if they are very sincere about making amends and committing to change for the future. Repeatedly accepting someone's apology while they continue to wrong you isn't forgiveness - it's stupidity and self-abuse.
The next point she made was about forgiveness as it is misunderstood - when it is really understanding (as in the case of an abusive parent who turned out himself to have been abused, so the child understands and "forgives" them for doing it.) I agreed that in a way it's not possible to forgive because the circumstances are complicated by extenuating circumstance. But what I think is that at a certain point in our adult lives, we have to examine the experiences we had and ask ourselves how long we will make that our excuse for the way we are now. We can spend the rest of our lives bemoaning the hand we were dealt, or we can decide to make a new start. For some, this is a change of attitude. For others, this means psychotherapy. But for all, it is taking adult responsibility.
Finally, Prof. Heschel made the case for "being a busybody," by which she meant interfering and getting involved when you think you can help people resolve their disputes. In our culture, we are often told to "mind our own beeswax." But the truth is that from the highest levels, we also value poking our nose in the business of others, and in fact we feel guilty when we wait too long to do this - clearly, we should have gotten involved in WWII earlier to save more Jewish lives, and there have been countless genocides and human rights situations that have warranted intervention since then.
So, my question is this: on what level are we comfortable with intervention? When I'm on the subway or the sidewalk, I often cringe at the way parents scream at their children, berating them for perceived flaws or missteps. Should I say something?
The other day, I was standing in line at a box office and there were two women behind me. One got out of line for a moment to read the fine print on a poster about the play. When she stepped back, the other woman wouldn't let her back to her place. She said the woman hadn't asked her to hold the place. Of course the other woman countered with "I didn't think I had to - I thought it was implied." Now, I'm not really judging one or the other, although I figure it's just one person, let her back in line, right? But that's not really the point. The point is, they got into a screaming match, complete with expletives, and I finally turned around and just said, "I can't believe you're having this conversation." Why create so much strife over such a little thing? I didn't think I could stand there and mind my own business as if this was acceptable - because sometimes when we don't have anyone to check our behavior, we get out of control. 9th graders know this from reading Lord of the Flies.
It's a fine line, knowing when to intervene, when to mind our own business. Please comment!
Friday, August 31, 2007
And finally...The American Idol Auditions!
Many people have asked me - did I get to sing for Simon, Randy and Paula? Nope. Since there are thousands of people, what they do is they have 16 tables set up on the arena floor. Each table has a judge, and you approach the table in groups of four. You sing one at a time, and then the judge tells which people are going on to the next round. If they're moving you forward, you get a Golden Ticket, and you get to go on to the next round.
It was about half star talent (people who have a shot at winning the overall contest) and half wacky people. These people were dressed in all kinds of costumes: a 300-pound lady in all white trimmed with feathers, a trio of girl scouts a la Andrews Sisters, a little guy in a purple leotard, a man in a frizzy red wig, Batgirl and Catwoman - all these people made it to the next round. Look for them when the series premieres!
Rebecca is in a new play!
I'm playing the role of Grace in "Ashtrays for Vodka" as part of the Fall Festival at the Manhattan Repertory Theater. October 3, 5 and 6 at 9pm. Come see me!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I'm Delinquent!
Okay, apparently I am not pumping these American Idol posts out fast enough. (Thank you, RM.) So I'll throw out a bone here until I have a chunk of time to write more.
For the first four hours in the arena, we were sitting in our assigned seats filming "crowd shots." If you've ever seen the show, you know that is where everyone is screaming and waving their arms. If you've ever worked in television or film, you know that NOTHING is spontaneous, and that "impromptu" take was actually take number 9 (or 47.) Sooooo....that took a while.
Then, finally, they started setting up the tables for the actual auditions.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Me on Audition Day
I wore my favorite audition shirt (everyone's seen it on my Facebook page, right?) a black skirt and the hottest heels.
That did not impress my judge, a casual woman.
(The guy before me fell on the floor when his song was over. She gave him a golden ticket, and as if to exonerate herself, said "He made me laugh, so I gave it to him." I thought about changing my song at that point but figured it wouldn't work twice in a row anyway.)
Special Guest Ryan Seacrest
Girls were screaming wildly for him - here he is being followed by cameras on the floor.
My First Glance at the Arena
FULL OF PEOPLE!
Every single one of these people wants to be the next American Idol.
Willing to do anything to get on camera part 2
This girl dressed up as a christmas tree. It worked - not only outside with the news cameras, but later in the arena, she got the coveted golden ticket.
What to do while waiting?
We stood there in the pens until about 8:30 am. People were doing anything and everything to get on tv - local news stations and the Tonight Show were there.
Sopranos actor Steve Schirippa was guest hosting a Tonight Show segment, so he interviewed a pair of singers doing their version of "Tainted Love." He called them Stripper Idols. (Did anyone see this segment on Leno? If you did, email me or comment on this post!!!)
American Idol Part Three
My alarm rang at 4am, at which point I vocalized, put on my makeup and clothes and checked out by 5am.
It took an hour to drive 5 miles to the Wachovia Center! It turned out that Philadelphia was the biggest turnout EVER for American Idol auditions. I sat in stopped traffic on I-95 for two miles. After finally exiting, another traffic jam welcomed me. All the Wachovia Center lots were full. I parked in the nearest lot a few blocks away, changed into my flip-flops for the walk (sexy Aldo shoes in the bag for later) and joined the parade of pre-dawn hopefuls.
Now it's about 6am. I get to the waiting area - I'm in pen #8. Each pen holds about 2000 people. (Eventually they ran out of pens and just put people in a huge parking lot.)
American Idol Part Two
Sunday.
Well, I had been sick since Thursday but after driving down to Philly and back in blazing heat with no air conditioner and devoting his entire weekend to my dream, Joe was not about to let me throw it all away.
So I booked a hotel, did last-minute wardrobe checks with my neighbor, loaded up on vitamic C and echinacea, and drove BACK to Philadelphia.
I did everything I could think of to try to feel better- soaking my sore muscles in the hot (more like lukewarm) tub, drinking pepper tea, getting to bed early. But alas, recovery was not on the menu.
Well, I had been sick since Thursday but after driving down to Philly and back in blazing heat with no air conditioner and devoting his entire weekend to my dream, Joe was not about to let me throw it all away.
So I booked a hotel, did last-minute wardrobe checks with my neighbor, loaded up on vitamic C and echinacea, and drove BACK to Philadelphia.
I did everything I could think of to try to feel better- soaking my sore muscles in the hot (more like lukewarm) tub, drinking pepper tea, getting to bed early. But alas, recovery was not on the menu.
American Idol Part One
On Saturday, Joe and I drove down to Philadelphia to register for American Idol.
Expecting throngs of people, we were quite surprised to find the parking lot nearly empty. We walked right up to the desk and I was registered within ten seconds. Hmmm, I thought, is no one auditioning in Philadelphia?
Well, I had my official wristband, so we headed back to New York to start phase two.
Check back for an update!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Missing Hannah
It's inevitable, I'm going to miss Hannah more when special occasions come up. I'm turning 29, and Hannah is still 25.
Different revelations have come to me at different times. When I first sat with her body at the hospital, it seemed so clear to me: there is nothing after this life. Hannah's lifeless body communicated one thing to me: there is no afterlife, nowhere we are going after this. I felt I had deluded myself after Papa's death into believing that he was watching over me from somewhere else, and suddenly, I knew that wasn't true.
But I still have a strong belief in the existence of the soul. What separated Hannah from being alive one moment and dead forever the next? It seemed to me that her soul was there, and then it left, and that was what made all the difference. As I explained to a friend, if her body had seemed destroyed, that would have explained it. But it didn't - she seemed as beautiful as ever, just tragically frozen.
I'm starting to think that life is supremely random. It's not that Hannah was "meant" to die, or that there was a cosmic mistake that allowed her to die despite other plans for her. She just died through the confluence of tiny events and decisions. For some reason, this makes me believe that we must not cling too steadfastly to anything external. Not that we shouldn't have goals and reams - I don't believe we can survive the heartbreaks of life without our aspirations. But we must thrive in the moment and not rely upon something we think we deserve coming to us in the future.
Different revelations have come to me at different times. When I first sat with her body at the hospital, it seemed so clear to me: there is nothing after this life. Hannah's lifeless body communicated one thing to me: there is no afterlife, nowhere we are going after this. I felt I had deluded myself after Papa's death into believing that he was watching over me from somewhere else, and suddenly, I knew that wasn't true.
But I still have a strong belief in the existence of the soul. What separated Hannah from being alive one moment and dead forever the next? It seemed to me that her soul was there, and then it left, and that was what made all the difference. As I explained to a friend, if her body had seemed destroyed, that would have explained it. But it didn't - she seemed as beautiful as ever, just tragically frozen.
I'm starting to think that life is supremely random. It's not that Hannah was "meant" to die, or that there was a cosmic mistake that allowed her to die despite other plans for her. She just died through the confluence of tiny events and decisions. For some reason, this makes me believe that we must not cling too steadfastly to anything external. Not that we shouldn't have goals and reams - I don't believe we can survive the heartbreaks of life without our aspirations. But we must thrive in the moment and not rely upon something we think we deserve coming to us in the future.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Composting
Yes, I'm a procrastinator.
I've lived in my apartment for two and a half years. Last week, I finally found a place to take my compost. See, when there's an obvious solution to a problem, I just get things done. When I worked at a school that had a composter on the roof (next to the greenhouse full of organic plants - can you tell it was a Montessori school?) I took the compost to work on a weekly basis. But when I'm not sure what to do, I'm paralyzed.
So the smallest thing can be a victory.
Joe can take the credit for this one - his subtle incredulity that I didn't have a compost bag in the freezer finally got to me, and I called the Green Thumb garden people to ask where I could bring my compost. They gave me the number for a community garden two blocks away from my home. That turned out to be a neighborhood woman's private phone number, so the conversation went a little like this:
Me: Good morning. Do you accept compost?
Her: Who is this?
Me: Rebecca
Her: Where are you calling from?
Me: My apartment. (?!)
Her: Hold on a second. (Sound of television being turned off in the background.)
Ok, so now what's this all about?
I won't bore you with the rest of the specifics, but, yes, they will take my compost. I just have to sling it, double-bagged, over the fence of the garden.
I've lived in my apartment for two and a half years. Last week, I finally found a place to take my compost. See, when there's an obvious solution to a problem, I just get things done. When I worked at a school that had a composter on the roof (next to the greenhouse full of organic plants - can you tell it was a Montessori school?) I took the compost to work on a weekly basis. But when I'm not sure what to do, I'm paralyzed.
So the smallest thing can be a victory.
Joe can take the credit for this one - his subtle incredulity that I didn't have a compost bag in the freezer finally got to me, and I called the Green Thumb garden people to ask where I could bring my compost. They gave me the number for a community garden two blocks away from my home. That turned out to be a neighborhood woman's private phone number, so the conversation went a little like this:
Me: Good morning. Do you accept compost?
Her: Who is this?
Me: Rebecca
Her: Where are you calling from?
Me: My apartment. (?!)
Her: Hold on a second. (Sound of television being turned off in the background.)
Ok, so now what's this all about?
I won't bore you with the rest of the specifics, but, yes, they will take my compost. I just have to sling it, double-bagged, over the fence of the garden.
Monday, July 30, 2007
The Chalk Boy
Last night I saw "The Chalk Boy," a new play by Joshua Conkel, starring Courtney Sale, Jennifer Harder, Mary Catherine Donnelly and Mallery Avidon.
The show is about four girls in a small town where a boy has recently disappeared - soon it becomes clear that he has been abducted. Through this story, we learn that while the middle class and the rich matter, the poor do not. A short scene between a creepy trucker and one of the girls proposes this hypothesis: the boy was kidnapped by a white man because that man has seen everything taken from him by women and minorities, and the boy represents the power of the rich. Later, we learn that the "white trash" girl, Penny, who was in love with the boy, goes on to have an unsuccessful marriage and ends up a supermarket checkout person, while the other three girls go to college and end up in successful relationships.
America is a meritocracy, we're always hearing. But for many poor people, it also seems to be a neverending treadmill. Nickel and Dimed showed this clearly, how hard a person can work and still never get out of the lowest rung of society. There are dozens of counterexamples, of people who worked their way up from nothing and made it big. But society should not function only for the exceptional - there are 300 million people in this country. And maybe twelve self-made billionaires.
The show is about four girls in a small town where a boy has recently disappeared - soon it becomes clear that he has been abducted. Through this story, we learn that while the middle class and the rich matter, the poor do not. A short scene between a creepy trucker and one of the girls proposes this hypothesis: the boy was kidnapped by a white man because that man has seen everything taken from him by women and minorities, and the boy represents the power of the rich. Later, we learn that the "white trash" girl, Penny, who was in love with the boy, goes on to have an unsuccessful marriage and ends up a supermarket checkout person, while the other three girls go to college and end up in successful relationships.
America is a meritocracy, we're always hearing. But for many poor people, it also seems to be a neverending treadmill. Nickel and Dimed showed this clearly, how hard a person can work and still never get out of the lowest rung of society. There are dozens of counterexamples, of people who worked their way up from nothing and made it big. But society should not function only for the exceptional - there are 300 million people in this country. And maybe twelve self-made billionaires.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Bold Corruption
At this point, there can't be a thinking person alive who doesn't see what a sleazy, corrupt politician we have in George W. Bush. Commuting Scooter Libby's sentence has got to be the last straw.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Spring Awakening
Last night I saw "Spring Awakening" on Broadway. Aside from a few technical qualms, I thought the show was great - beautiful singers, very unique concept and a sharp adaptation of the original play to the musical format.
I think the producers of the show have done an important service. This play was written in the 1880s about the stifling social attitudes that cause young people so much turmoil. Unfortunately, watching the various storylines, I was struck by how relevant they still are now.
Wendla doesn't understand her body or how sex is related to pregnancy. When her mother scolds her, disappointed that Wendla has betrayed her by losing her virginity and getting pregnant, Wendla's response is "Why didn't you tell me everything?" Wendla had absolutely no understanding and no way of getting information about sex and reproduction. A botched abortion kills her. Today, New York State spends $12 million a year on ABSTINENCE ONLY sex education. So it's no wonder we have teenage pregnancy. And of course there are many reactionaries who would like to return to restrictive laws regarding a woman's right to choose.
Moritz, preoccupied by wet dreams he doesn't undertand, fails his classes. Neither his teacher nor his father undertands or loves him properly, and he shoots himself. We still have epidemic depression and suicide.
Two of the female characters in the play are physically and sexually abused by their fathers. Unfortunately, we still have shame, silence and self-blame trapping people in unhealthy situations.
The language of the play is at once modern, pedestrian and poetic. By bringing these issues to a venue where a broad spectrum of society will identify with them, the cast, writers, director and producers are helping to initiate vital conversations.
I think the producers of the show have done an important service. This play was written in the 1880s about the stifling social attitudes that cause young people so much turmoil. Unfortunately, watching the various storylines, I was struck by how relevant they still are now.
Wendla doesn't understand her body or how sex is related to pregnancy. When her mother scolds her, disappointed that Wendla has betrayed her by losing her virginity and getting pregnant, Wendla's response is "Why didn't you tell me everything?" Wendla had absolutely no understanding and no way of getting information about sex and reproduction. A botched abortion kills her. Today, New York State spends $12 million a year on ABSTINENCE ONLY sex education. So it's no wonder we have teenage pregnancy. And of course there are many reactionaries who would like to return to restrictive laws regarding a woman's right to choose.
Moritz, preoccupied by wet dreams he doesn't undertand, fails his classes. Neither his teacher nor his father undertands or loves him properly, and he shoots himself. We still have epidemic depression and suicide.
Two of the female characters in the play are physically and sexually abused by their fathers. Unfortunately, we still have shame, silence and self-blame trapping people in unhealthy situations.
The language of the play is at once modern, pedestrian and poetic. By bringing these issues to a venue where a broad spectrum of society will identify with them, the cast, writers, director and producers are helping to initiate vital conversations.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
My J Nature
Have you ever read Please Understand Me II? (It's only the best book ever.)
I'm J. Judging. For me, things don't happen in the abstract; they represent part of a larger truth.
Oversleeping doesn't mean I'm tired. I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Help!
A cancelled date isn't a disappointment. It's a disaster, because it means
he.
doesn't.
love me.
I once told Joe about my Extreme Thinking: Always! Never! Disaster!
He said, "It could be a great Broadway musical."
I'm J. Judging. For me, things don't happen in the abstract; they represent part of a larger truth.
Oversleeping doesn't mean I'm tired. I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Help!
A cancelled date isn't a disappointment. It's a disaster, because it means
he.
doesn't.
love me.
I once told Joe about my Extreme Thinking: Always! Never! Disaster!
He said, "It could be a great Broadway musical."
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
What it takes
For the first few days in Israel and the West Bank, I had a very hard time. Every time we met with a group describing land appropriation by the Israeli government (such as Alternative Voices in the Galil) or listened to someone describe how the checkpoint soldiers treated them, I felt bad. I felt upset. But inside I questioned whether these measures were truly "unnecessary."
You see, in August of 2002, a dear friend of mine, Marla Bennett, was killed in the terrorist bombing of Hebrew University. Many things have been written about Marla. She was beautiful, smart, kind, committed to her goals and values, and she was a day away from finishing her masters degree. She had a flight back to San Diego booked for the next day, and she was getting engaged to a wonderful man. Her murder affected so many people.
One of those people was my sister, Hannah Engle. She and her boyfriend at the time were about to leave for Israel, where they would be living for a year while he studied at HUC and she worked in Jerusalem. The bombing terrified all our parents, and Hannah and Billy decided to move to New York instead. Ultimately, Hannah was not safe in New York, either. For all the hand-wringing parents do when children go to the Holy Land, perhaps they neglect the sad truth about automobile accidents. Last year, Hannah was killed when a car hit her as she crossed 14th Street.
After a day trip to Ramallah (not the bullets whizzing by scene the media might try to convince you it is, by the way), I sat at dinner with a Palestinian woman. She didn't speak much English, and I certainly don't speak Arabic, but we had a Christian aid worker sitting with us, and he translated. She told me about how her brother had been killed by the IDF. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be a part of the organization that had brought us together - the loss was quite new for her, and she was exploring options. I thought back to that point in my grieving for Hannah, and I began to cry.
Suddenly I didn't care who he was or what he had done (which may well have been nothing anyway.) The loss was hers. Just like I miss my Hannah. And WE have to spend the rest of our lives without these people. These siblings we grew up with, shared our secrets with, planned to grow old with. They're gone.
For the first time, I felt connected to the Palestinians on a true human level. My heart opened, and my mind stopped rationalizing. No more, "yes, but Marla died." Loss is loss.
And that's why we have to find a better way.
You see, in August of 2002, a dear friend of mine, Marla Bennett, was killed in the terrorist bombing of Hebrew University. Many things have been written about Marla. She was beautiful, smart, kind, committed to her goals and values, and she was a day away from finishing her masters degree. She had a flight back to San Diego booked for the next day, and she was getting engaged to a wonderful man. Her murder affected so many people.
One of those people was my sister, Hannah Engle. She and her boyfriend at the time were about to leave for Israel, where they would be living for a year while he studied at HUC and she worked in Jerusalem. The bombing terrified all our parents, and Hannah and Billy decided to move to New York instead. Ultimately, Hannah was not safe in New York, either. For all the hand-wringing parents do when children go to the Holy Land, perhaps they neglect the sad truth about automobile accidents. Last year, Hannah was killed when a car hit her as she crossed 14th Street.
After a day trip to Ramallah (not the bullets whizzing by scene the media might try to convince you it is, by the way), I sat at dinner with a Palestinian woman. She didn't speak much English, and I certainly don't speak Arabic, but we had a Christian aid worker sitting with us, and he translated. She told me about how her brother had been killed by the IDF. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be a part of the organization that had brought us together - the loss was quite new for her, and she was exploring options. I thought back to that point in my grieving for Hannah, and I began to cry.
Suddenly I didn't care who he was or what he had done (which may well have been nothing anyway.) The loss was hers. Just like I miss my Hannah. And WE have to spend the rest of our lives without these people. These siblings we grew up with, shared our secrets with, planned to grow old with. They're gone.
For the first time, I felt connected to the Palestinians on a true human level. My heart opened, and my mind stopped rationalizing. No more, "yes, but Marla died." Loss is loss.
And that's why we have to find a better way.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Israel and the Palestinian Territories
This will probably end up being more than one post, but here's a primer.
I had been craving a trip to Israel for a couple years. I had been there twice before - once in 1994, once in 2000. So I was overdue. I wanted the spiritual connection, the Jewish learning, the adventure. Coughing up the money was a challenge. But I really wanted to get there.
Joe forwarded me an email from his friend Eliyahu McLean, who was helping to organize a tour. But instead of doing touristy things like climbing Masade for sunrise and floating in the Dead Sea, the tour would visit peacemakers - Israelis and Palestinians who are working toward solutions to the seemingly hopeless situation. I was so excited. My Idealist nature took over, and before I knew it, I was booking a flight.
I had some reservations. Would I get along with the people on my trip? Would I have an authentic experience? Would Joe and I kill each other?
The trip was amazing. I met with so many different groups and individuals, learned about some revolutionary projects, and had my eyes opened to a difficult reality.
I have a few take-home thoughts:
Israel cannot continue with the current policies of harrassment, house demolition, checkpoints, curfews and settlement expansion. One, because it is contrary to our belief in the equality of all human beings and the role of Jews to be "or l'goyim" - a light to the nations. But perhaps more importantly and persuasively for those pragmatists out there, because it isn't working - things are getting worse. Palestinians are getting angrier. Palestinian nationalism is increasing. If we want to protect ourselves, we will find a way to work together instead of building walls.
I'm not sure a democratic state can exist if we want to be a Jewish state. But I struggle with my deeply rooted fear that no matter how hard we try, we will never be accepted or safe, and in that sense we must continue to protect ourselves by some form of "segregation" - the continued prioritization of Jews in Israel. It is impossible to ignore the Holocaust.
We may have to give some things up to get what we want. We should be realistic about that.
Joe and I did not kill each other.
I had been craving a trip to Israel for a couple years. I had been there twice before - once in 1994, once in 2000. So I was overdue. I wanted the spiritual connection, the Jewish learning, the adventure. Coughing up the money was a challenge. But I really wanted to get there.
Joe forwarded me an email from his friend Eliyahu McLean, who was helping to organize a tour. But instead of doing touristy things like climbing Masade for sunrise and floating in the Dead Sea, the tour would visit peacemakers - Israelis and Palestinians who are working toward solutions to the seemingly hopeless situation. I was so excited. My Idealist nature took over, and before I knew it, I was booking a flight.
I had some reservations. Would I get along with the people on my trip? Would I have an authentic experience? Would Joe and I kill each other?
The trip was amazing. I met with so many different groups and individuals, learned about some revolutionary projects, and had my eyes opened to a difficult reality.
I have a few take-home thoughts:
Israel cannot continue with the current policies of harrassment, house demolition, checkpoints, curfews and settlement expansion. One, because it is contrary to our belief in the equality of all human beings and the role of Jews to be "or l'goyim" - a light to the nations. But perhaps more importantly and persuasively for those pragmatists out there, because it isn't working - things are getting worse. Palestinians are getting angrier. Palestinian nationalism is increasing. If we want to protect ourselves, we will find a way to work together instead of building walls.
I'm not sure a democratic state can exist if we want to be a Jewish state. But I struggle with my deeply rooted fear that no matter how hard we try, we will never be accepted or safe, and in that sense we must continue to protect ourselves by some form of "segregation" - the continued prioritization of Jews in Israel. It is impossible to ignore the Holocaust.
We may have to give some things up to get what we want. We should be realistic about that.
Joe and I did not kill each other.
Bottled Water
I've tried so hard.
I just don't understand why people need to drink bottled water.
Did you read the recent New York Times Magazine article about the bottle deposity law overhaul? I kind of like the idea of a bottle deposit. But really when it comes down to it, we live in a city (at least the fortunate among us here) where the water quality is very high. The stuff actually tastes good. Why can't we just take a bottle, or a glass, go fill it up, and then drink it? Why do we need to buy water that has been moved on a truck from another place? Now, I can be a little snobby about some things. (ahem. More than a few. Sorry.) But I don't really understand the impulse to advertise that I have wasted money on a useless product. I think it would be great if we could all agree to just waste a little less.
I just don't understand why people need to drink bottled water.
Did you read the recent New York Times Magazine article about the bottle deposity law overhaul? I kind of like the idea of a bottle deposit. But really when it comes down to it, we live in a city (at least the fortunate among us here) where the water quality is very high. The stuff actually tastes good. Why can't we just take a bottle, or a glass, go fill it up, and then drink it? Why do we need to buy water that has been moved on a truck from another place? Now, I can be a little snobby about some things. (ahem. More than a few. Sorry.) But I don't really understand the impulse to advertise that I have wasted money on a useless product. I think it would be great if we could all agree to just waste a little less.
My mind is just different
Anyone who knows me knows that I just don't think like other people.
A lightbulb went off in my head one day, waiting on the uptown Christopher Street platform. I looked at the dirty tiles, looked at my watch, looked down at the tracks, craned my neck over the edge to see whether a train was coming. I'm just standing here. Got nothing to do. Why doesn't the MTA just hang a little bucket full of soapy water and a scrub brush, and if you have a few idle minutes, you could help keep the walls shiny!
Would I be the only one cleaning?
A lightbulb went off in my head one day, waiting on the uptown Christopher Street platform. I looked at the dirty tiles, looked at my watch, looked down at the tracks, craned my neck over the edge to see whether a train was coming. I'm just standing here. Got nothing to do. Why doesn't the MTA just hang a little bucket full of soapy water and a scrub brush, and if you have a few idle minutes, you could help keep the walls shiny!
Would I be the only one cleaning?
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