Robin was suffering. She was in the second day of a nasty sinus infection
and we had just received our new scene assignments. So she has an important scene coming up and she can’t be all ‘stuffy.’ I make a sad suggestion that I might be able to fill a prescription for antibiotics if I make a few calls, and then I thought of another solution. A saline solution… “now, this is going to hurt but it will totally make you feel better.” Robin looked curious. Her head cocked like a bird. “Did you just say SNORT salt water?”
I spirited a handful of salt packets from the café across the street under heavy surveillance and certain that I was about to be apprehended by the female ninjas that work behind the counter. My crime went unnoticed and we started to make our way back to our building. Robin stopped dead in her tracks and said, “do you see what I see?” I looked up to see a small yellow stream coming out of the driver’s side of a cab. The stream didn’t appear to be attached to anything, which made it seem that the cab itself was peeing on the sidewalk.
Upstairs in the girl’s room I measured water into Robin’s Nalgene like Marie Curie. “Zee salt vater vil make you feel much better.” Totally unaware that there was a very tall blond accented model in the bathroom stall, accompanied by two other well dressed skeletons, I started to explain the procedure. I offered to do it once for her, just as had been done for my benefit when I learned to snort like my career depended on it. We’d have a bond forever from this experience. I promised. “oh God Jessyca, look at your face!” Robin cried. My expression with the first snort was that of constipation and utter disgust. I cried a little. The excess solution spewed forth like Old Faithful. I felt so ineffective as a teacher. Robin took it like a champ. Twice. I was impressed. The models looked curious and we thought about pushing it on them; as good as snorting salt water was making Robin feel, seeing models snort salt water would make her feel even better.
We’d call it “flow” and tell them that everyone was doing it. Alas, it was time for Voiceover class.
Robin sat opposite me on the floor sequestering herself and giving me the best view of her sinuses. We traded off objects, pretending to stuff them up our noses. chapstick, a water bottle, actual contact lens solution, pens, a camera, and her coup d’etat, a tampon, which nearly got me thrown out of class; I couldn’t stop convulsing with laughter. Best sinus infection ever.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
A very nice break for dinner with my
cousin Jonathan. We laughed, we cried,
we compared cell phones. Thanks man.
I found Robin at "FoodWorks" looking for something to
make herself feel better... she has a sinus infection... and
aha! it occurred to me that I knew a solution.
A saline solution.
1. cup a little warm salt water in your hand
2. snort like lindsay lohan..
3. tilt your head back, then let it drain out a little and blow.
4. hey, it's natural to want to blow.
5. repeat. don't swallow. Robin swallowed. I told her not to. Gross!
thanks to AO for your help with my first time.
We just had a close encounter with three models who were in our
building for a casting call, who looked curious, like maybe it was
something they needed to consider. I had to resist the urge to
taunt them into the very sexy world of saline solution snorting.
I thought we could call it "Flow"
Scene study class with Jay Goldenberg - his best quote for the
day was "my cell phone is messed up and my pimple hurts."
The man is a genius, I swear.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
There is a revolution at revolution books on Friday.
Or maybe just a little protest between friends.
This is right by the school, a reminder that
New Yorkers give a crap.
Carri arrives. We are standing in the same space under the
departures marquee, a universe away by cell phone. Here I am!
We dine with a view on Friday - and then Saturday on to
the pressing issue of shopping. We're on a mission, and it
involves some unusual possibilities.
Did I just get caught playing with a gong?
Heavy steel sewing scissors that could slice bone.
Carri looks for the perfect silver plated cat.
The raised paw is a blessing. The strange pen
shaped like a carp down to the lifeless eyes is a necessity.
There are birdcages for mechanical birds, nonsense, and soap from france, or China.
Saffron beauty everywhere, and fluttering, colorful things.
IT'S RAINING IN SOHO.
It's raining in soho. Hard. We search for bijoux.
We find bijoux, and a surly shopkeeper that will not
allow photographs. Out on a limb for my blog, I say
"why not?" "because these are OUR things." he says, and looks away.
Are they not about to be mine? I buy a necklace and he looks embarrassed.
I contemplate the REAL spy, who could buy one of
everything and copy it without the benefit of this
We went into the women-owned adult toy store called "babeland"
right after the bijoux, but I was too mesmerized to snap photos.
Who were the lucky ass architects that did THIS interior?
Yeah, you try not smiling after a store like that.
Chocolate seems like a FABULOUS idea.
I give thanks for the chocolate I am
about to receive. It's a stop at Vosges, and
my favorites are the hot pepper and dark chocolate
truffles called "red fire" - accompanied by a similarly
flavored spicy hot chocolate drink.
It's a nearly religious experience.
No, we're not here to repent for what we just saw and ate.
But it's impossible not to be contemplative
in a setting like this.
I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift,
the baffled king composing Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof,
you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty
in the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, she cut your hair,
and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Maybe I have been here before, I know this room;
I have walked this floor, I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march,
it's a cold and its a broken Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know whats really going on below,
but now you never show it to me, do you? (and)
Remember when I moved in you; the holy dark was moving too,
and every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Maybe there's a God above, and all I ever learned from love
was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And its not a cry you can hear at night, its not somebody
who's seen the light, its a cold and its a broken Hallelujah
[leonard cohen] sorry leonard.
Thank you for the silence Grace Church.
I'm listening, closely.
THE FARMER'S MARKET AT UNION SQUARE
Bluegrass.... can't seem to get away from the stuff.
Out for drinks in the neighborhood.
A departure breakfast at "Bar Tabac" which could absolutely be
in Provence somewhere.
Trying to capture whimsy this weekend.
Catching the train back to b-more.
Thank you for the laughs and the feeling of home.