tifanie23’s blog

I knew it had been a while. It's been about 6 months, which follows perfectly the feeling of time slipping into the future that I have been pointedly experiencing lately. More and more each day. I'm sitting on my couch in my new apartment that I share with Paul, and Piaf and O' Hara. Let me back up a bit. Last November I was just starting to dip my toes into the auditioning process again. A few weeks later, I was cast in a show at Sacred Fools called Resignation Day. I played 5 small parts, one of which was a dancing Richard Nixon. One of them involved a fat suit. Yeah, it was that kind of play. And although at first I felt so alien going to rehearsals again and spending my evenings in the comforting yet foreign church of theatre, I soon became familiar with the acting part of myself that I had put away for so long, and started to have fun again. It felt really, really fucking good.

For most of us. Here I am, at 34, running around town auditioning for things and paying hard earned money to go in front of casting directors and agents in a last-ditch effort to recapture the fruits of my earlier escapades in the acting arena. Sometimes I just have to laugh at myself. Nothing quite so good for the ego as being the oldest person in a room by at least a decade, having these agent types look at you quizzically, as if you have stepped out of some historical novel where people actually age and have curves. 

Sounds like a good title for an apocalyptic novel. Or perhaps a flick. But it's also the amount of time since my last posting. See, I'm getting better. So where do I begin? Let's see, my honey and I went to Seattle and Blaine and Lynden, WA for a week, as planned. My sister and her husband picked us up in Seattle and we sat up drinking, making fun of the brain surgeon yuppie convention in the lobby of the W (yes, I'm hotel dropping, deal with it) and then got up in the AM and went to the Underground. Holy hell, what a history that place has. I love that the person who has given the 2nd largest amount of money to the city next to Bill Gates was a prostitute and that at one time, there was a regular daily shit geyser in your privy when tide came in. The sin and greed and lust involved in the amoebic spread of that city is just epic and so very American. 

I don't know how is is possible that it has been so long since I blogged. The time has truly flown by. I have been dream journaling a little, but mostly just working like a madwoman and enjoying the sweetest love with Paul. I have been living without a kitty friend in a teeny studio in the middle of this vast wasteland of possibilities. When I first moved in, I was is quite a state, having not lived alone in 15 years. I didn't know what to do with myself but have recently begun to feel more at home. I figure by the time I am comfortable, it will be time to go. 

Catty friend

Desdemona was born in the summer or 1992. I had just graduated high school and my friend Kevin, aka Toast, or Mostie took it upon himself to invite a certain Miss Sunshine and myself to a gathering and let us just say that we entered an altered state together, hitherto unknown to us. Though I had never liked Miss Sunshine, for reasons that turned out to be utterly nonsense, she and I bonded that night and have had the most extraordinary friendship I have ever known. And at one point that evening, after we stumbled into the little cottage that I would later share with her, in a close quarters situation that would have ended lesser friendships entirely, she announced that she had a box of kittens in the other room. Kittens? I was there in a heartbeat.

I remember being charmed by one of her littermates, a little black one, but Desdemona took one look at me, crawled up my shirt and put her little face in mine and meowed loudly. She was letting me know I belonged to her, and she went home with me as soon as she was weaned. Or mostly weaned, anyway. She never did stop the making of biscuits with her sharp little claws all over me, but that was just one of her many charms. That crazy little gato! She used to stalk everything and pounce madly, including bread ties, knickknacks on windowsills, human eyeballs, and on one particularly hilarious evening, a certain (lousy) lover’s genitalia.

She loved to catch grasshoppers, lizards, birds, moths, and once a baby bunny that I think had been a neighbor’s pet. When she was “fixed”, the assholes at Vetco left an entire ovary inside of her, which I did not find out about until she had to have surgery two years later to remove it. Before the 2nd surgery, she was a very naughty cat and always had boyfriends hanging around the porches at 1st Street, and she did with them what she pleased. After the ovary went away, she calmed down a bit, but always hung out with ruffians. She was once friends with “The Bad Cat”, a sewer dwelling scavenger who looked so much like her that when he was run over by a car years later, my boyfriend at the time came in crying, believing Des was gone. I felt bad for feeling so relieved when I saw it wasn’t her, but hey, The Bad Cat was kind of an asshole, always sneaking into the house and hissing and growling and spitting when we tried to get him to leave, as if we were intruding on him.

Desdemona moved to Albany with me, where she fell in love with Myshi Gato, Brandy’s male version of Desdemona, but haughtier. She would sit and stare at that cat for hours, obviously pining. He tolerated her- I’m pretty sure he liked the attention. Then we ended up in San Francisco, where she learned to go out on the fire escape and sit for hours watching the birds fly out of Golden Gate and Buena Vista Park. She loved sunshine, as most cats do. Santa Barbara was a heaven for her with the cat door and backyard full of wild creatures, which she was fascinated with and let come in the house as they liked. One day she and her brother cat were found by my ex-husband hanging out in the living room with a posse of skunks. They looked very guilty to be caught and I have to wonder what else happened when the humans were gone in that place. In Santa Monica, she played footsie under apartment doors with the neighbor cats and loved to smell the rose bushes. Here in the hood, she would often sit and sun herself on the porch, and made sort of friends with another neighborhood bad cat who looked lots like her, dubbed Penelope Muffin Jones. Once P. Muffin got in the house and hid for 4 days while Des was made to look as if she had made naughty messes, which were completely out of her character. When Mike and I finally discovered and ousted P. Muffin from the house with the broom, Desdemona helped us, following her and spitting and hissing at her all the way.

Des didn’t like a lot of animals. We had lots of roommates with lots of other cats and the occasional dog, and there were only certain cats who she could tolerate, the ones who would let her retain her queenly status. The others she tortured mercilessly. Dogs she avoided at all costs, though she recently began to tolerate, Akita, Mary’s dog that is our neighbor and who she had been raised with in the 1st Street house. But my, did she love people. Especially the gentlemen! But Des was a lover of humanity, a party cat who was famous for lap surfing at parties, or sitting in the middle of a circle of friends, certain that had gathered to gaze upon her beauty. She could be demanding, but was so worthy of worship that there was little to do but surrender.

In SF, Des was diagnosed with breast cancer and went through a radical mastectomy. I was told she would not likely last more that 6 months after that. That was 4 years ago. Last year in March, she was clearly and suddenly sick. I found out she was FIV positive, kitty cat AIDS, basically, and that her renal system was beginning to fail. Antibiotics cleared up the infection that had caused her to feel so bad that she showed symptoms I could even see. She rallied once again and I gave her daily medication and routine subcutaneous fluid injections, and other than her peeing more than before and drinking more water, she behaved like she always had, and still loved to run and play. No one could believe that she was 15 years old, she looked and behaved like a much younger cat. Lately she developed the wonderful habit of crawling under the covers and sticking her cold paws against me to get warm. I loved that, it made me feel so special.

Desdemona, aka Rona Tona, Des, Desmo, Desdonoma, Mrrt, Brrt, The Sterrorist, and sometimes Miss Miss ended her amazing journey through this earthly plane on Friday, February 1st, 2008. The night before I noticed something was wrong and had a feeling she may not make it through the night. I held her while she purred weakly, but she soon wanted to jump down from the bed.. I found her barely hanging on the next morning, curled up under my bed. I took her to the vet and they ran tests that showed she had another infection and her renal system had deteriorated dramatically. She was in critical condition, and I had the choice to end her suffering immediately, or hospitalize her for 4 or 5 days while they tried different treatments to coax her back to life, which may or may not have worked.

But I knew in my heart that this was it. She had hurt and fought enough in her life, and I didn’t want her to suffer more, or even to have another miraculous recovery that would only be followed by the same series of events after a shorter duration of respite. I felt it would be selfish of me to ask that of her again. The fact that she made it as far as she did was so miraculous. It was a terrible decision to have to make and I will surely never fully recover from the loss. I held her in my arms in a way she never permitted me to for long previously and we looked at each other for a long time. I think she understood what was happening. She was dignified to the end, and passed without even a whimper. That cat was tough as nails, and regal, and absolutely archetypal. An Egyptian temple cat, a Bast and a Sekmet all in one.

She and I raised one another in so many ways. I knew her longer than I have known almost anyone and she was a comfort to me in so many times of sadness, and always in tune with me on a level that was profound and enlightening. In a way, maybe when she saw me packing for yet another move, she just let go. This far, and no further. And I doubt very much she would have been as happy in my studio apartment with no access to the outside world. So I keep trying to tell myself that it all happened for a reason. All I know is that I was extremely fortunate to have such a wonderful furry friend in my life this long, and that I will never be the same without her. I hope she is somewhere in green grass, bossing around the lesser cats, chasing small rodents and having all the ice cream she can eat. She really loved ice cream.

I really loved her. Always will.
Goodnight, my sweet girl.
My furry lady.
Sigh.

All night long. In my new tradition of writing one or two posts a month, here I am, in late November, finally in a moment that I not only could write a post, and should write a post, but actually want to write a post. There are some things I haven't been telling you. In a way, I have hoped to speed this year towards its end as quickly and quietly as possible. But heck, it's close enough, and like Jen Sunshine says, the end is in sight, the holidays are upon us, and advancing like a god damned freight train. You cannot stop the inevitable.

So.

Things about this year I have not mentioned, and should have:

1) Portland. Me, Jen, Shy, and Kristen surprised the heck out of one Miss Brandy in late September, with the help of Amber, Sam, and Emily. It was a golden weekend spent squealing, karaoke-ing, imbibing in the best substances nature has to offer, rolling around on grassy knolls, skipping through trees, hugging, eating Samson's estimable cooking, laughing, talking, and rejoicing. It was a cosmic weekend of beauty and happiness, one for the history books, and I am so glad I had the opportunity to attend.

2) Lisa came to town. My god, did we have fun. We talked to artists in Venice and Santa Monica and ate well and read cards and heard live music and caught up and drank French wines and sewed and knitted and just were at such ease. I had forgotten just how wonderful it was to be around her for an extended period of time, as every time I go to SF we are lucky to even get two hours alone. She has broken through the chains of her former life and is branching out on her own and I could not be more proud. 

3) Halloween. I dressed up as Desire, from The Sandman comics, and I must say, it was a pretty good costume. Not only that, but the character suits me well. While Lisa was here, I sewed the heart for my red jacket, and I had forgotten how much I enjoy crafts like that. Mikey was a spot-on Han Solo, Mary and Aaron rocked Ursa and Zod, and Adriana and David were a wonderful Lady Aberlaine and Mr. Rogers. And I was introduced to Hennessey and let's just say, "it's good in cider."

4) Thanksgiving. Me and the above Halloween stars (sans David, down with the flu- Boo! Hiss!) hosted a baker's dozen of lovelies at our duplex house. Dinner on one side and dessert and games on the other. The food was wonderful, the company was even better. Someday I will make my sister's rolls correctly. Someday. I am still enjoying leftovers. My personal favorite? Mashed sage sweet potatoes. Yowza.

5) I'M FUCKING DIVORCED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry to sound so crass, but it's been a hell of a road. November 5th was the day, and it feels good to be a free woman. I have said little about the details of it all, not out of any sense of decorum, but out being financially blackmailed. Well, the ex has no hold on me now, financial or otherwise, so I am free to say anything I feel. And what do I feel? Quite simply- relieved, at peace, and alive again.

6) Brandy and I have started work on the Dorothy Parker play, in earnest. This one has been a long time coming, it is the 2nd in a series of plays we hae planned focusing on female writers of the 1920's. She and I have been through a few whirlwinds in the past years and could not settle down to our respective desks, though we have itched to. Now is the time. And there is very little that I enjoy more in this world than writing a play with Miss Brandy.

7) The best for last: I've been seeing an intelligent, talented and lovely man (not to mention hilarious, sexy and cute) that I deeply respect and admire for about 6 months now. I have never experienced anything quite this satisfying or interesting in my myriad romantic adventures. Nor did I ever expect to. Do I know where it's "going"? Nope. Am I enjoying it for where it is at this very minute? Oh my, yes. Soon, we are finally going to get a weekend together out of town together and I can barely contain my glee at the prospect of having him alone for 48 hours. Bliss.

Quite simply, the universe is taking care of me. I don't have a ton of money, or a hot shot career, or concrete plans for the duration of this lifetime. But I do have friends, love, and a shiny thing called hope in absolute spades.

Anytime I want it, that’s the way I need it. This is going to come as a shock to me. I never knew it could be this way. At first I wasn’t sure about it. What it was. I didn’t expect it to happen so fast. One day I was driving and suddenly, I was smiling stupidly. I have lost the bad thoughts that blackened my brain for so long. They have been replaced with pure unadulterated delicious nothing. Cotton candy. Empty comic book dialog bubbles, slightly tinged with pink. I can’t get over it. That I’ve gotten over it. That without a warning, I somehow disconnected with the despair that has been worming round my heart for far too long. I couldn’t even find it if I wanted to look for it. I never in a million years thought I would be this happy. So happy with so little. I don’t have much, but what I have is shiny. An invisible necklace of warm gold is resting around my throat, which is beginning to open once again. My little ticker is ticking. I have lovely dark pink velvet vibrations dressing my skin like a robe. Everywhere that I walk, it clothes me. The veil has fallen. Around me is everything for the taking, the colors are alive and so am I. I sing to myself. My heart overflows. I cannot express my gratitude for this new vision. My dreams are full of arcane knowledge, wisdom, force and power. My life is full of friends. My web is stretched in accordance with nature and it vibrates sweetly. Sometimes it just makes me cry with joy…I thought you all should know.

What experience or moment in your life have you learned the most from? 
Submitted by AngieK. 

    The moment I first stepped on stage in the 7th grade. Thank you, Mrs. Smith! It was then that I realized there was away to step out of the normal circumstances of my humble life and my tragic family, and dream out loud. I was placed upon a different path, where I was free to imagine a different life for myself, to manufacture a brand new past, present and future. Had it not been for theatre, I may have never gone to college. It was the only thing I was ever interested in, besides literature and other artistic topics.

    Had I not gone to college, I would not have some of the wonderful friends I do today, or all of the special memories I have revolving around rehearsals, theatre parties, performances, stage romances, etc, etc, etc. What would my life have turned into had I not worked full time while attending classes, then rehearsing at night and partying until dawn? Think of the conversations, the hilarity, the exhilarated exhaustion, and the other priceless emotions I would have missed. I may never have learned I had a knack for hand sewing, or directing, or cobbling plays together, or raising money, or running a business, or even hanging lights. Having to deal with individual stresses in each particular production does make us more apt to adapt to changes in our "real" lives.

    The theory that the show must go on is one that has held true for me through many hardships in my personal life, and I thank Eris for it. "Laugh now, cry later, ese!" (That's a cholo explaining his comedy and tragedy tattoo on his arm, bro.) Without drama I would maybe have become just another person who does not often question the world they operate in. I tend to often see the subtext in situations now, and I'm able to understand why peoples' particular motivations in life cause them to behave in the often silly ways they do. Theatre has been my solace in times of darkness. I wrote my first play in one night after a particularly rough romance. I have had relationships begin and end upon the stage- some quickly, and some filling years and years.

    I have helped run theatres, sometime nearly into the ground, and have fought like hell with those who do not agree with my artistic beliefs and would try to push me in a direction I do not believe in. Many directors have bullied and injured me, sometimes to a good end, but sometimes to bad. In directing, I have tried to treat others as I would be treated. In writing, I have tried to assemble words that I myself would not mind saying. As an actor, I have tried to do justice of some sort, to the intentions of the playwright and director. This triangular relationship is tricky, but so rewarding if you get it even a little bit right.

    I have thrown myself headlong into projects when the rest of my life is falling to pieces around me. I have exorcised demons in my work, unburdened my soul of a few particular fears, and so on and so on and so on ad infinitum. Theatre has just taught me so terribly much about myself- what my limits are, what my heart desires, what I can accept, what I can't put up with ever again. For me, theatre has been and remains my greatest teacher, the people who I have made art with are generally the dearest to my heart, and they teach me lessons constantly.

    I'm not saying it has all made me more ambitious, or financially stable, or that I earn my measly keep from making art- but I have never cared about that. Sure, I wouldn't poo poo it if it happened to work out someday, but it has never been why I am in  it. I am in it because I cannot stop myself. And I mean that quite literally. Even if I take breaks, and I have taken many, it always calls my name again and I come running, or perhaps limping, back to the boards. I know for a fact that it has saved my life so many times, in so many ways. So, yeah. that would be the moment. 12 years old, drifting uncertainly in an unfriendly world, moving from place to place with no real roots until Kathy Smith asked me to try out for a show. That, for me, has been the connection point to everything.

I have just experienced ten days like no other, filled with great joy and discovery, suprises, stress, laughter, tears, astonishment, and a million other specific and unique emotions that will never exist twice in my life.

I am sitting in Natasha's quiet, colorful Philadelphia flat, attempting to take stock of it all. The Friday before last began a rehearsal, tech and performance process like no other. Two nights ago, we closed our run of Acts of Sedition at Society Hill Playhouse at the Philly Fringe. 

This was my first fringe, and the first time I have attempted to help organize something of this scale. 11 actors from 4 different states, 14 pieces written and directed by a group of wonderful friends. We arrived in Philly last Monday and began tech the next day.

Techs are not much fun, generally, but we were fueled by exhilaration and fear in equal measure. Despite a few difficulties, and the fact that our opening night was our first real full run through with every cast member and every sound/video/light cue, we did manage to construct a pretty cohesive show over those long distances. Our audience, our confidence, and our work grew larger and stronger each night. There were a few foibles along the road, but not nearly as many as would be expected. Our audiences reacted and laughed to different things each night, which was incredibly interesting. And the general feeling is that this is a show we just might want to do again. Which is a nice feeling to have.

In addition to putting Acts up, we were able to see other Fringe shows and Philadelphia attractions. As productions went, I most enjoyed Fat Boy, a modernized Ubu Roi I saw yesterday at the Plays and Players Theatre. Tash's friend Joshus did the sound and it, along with the rest of the show, was just fantastic. Ballsy and funny, even with one of the actors injured and performing from a wheelchair.

Attraction wise, Adriana, Gabe, David and I spent 5.5 hours at the Franklin Science Museum at the Tutankhamen exhibit. Although the actual mummy wasn't along for the ride, I found myself face to face with objects I had only ever seen in books and never thought I would have a chance to be so close to. I am so grateful, and still convinced there was more than a bit of alien assistance with those pyramids and the rites and rituals. So yeah, everything but the Tut. Loved it all.

Gabe and I saw the underwhelming Liberty Bell and meandered charming sidestreets that look quite European with their painted shutters and wrought iron details, a slew of us went to a Medical oddity museum that I was the first one out of. It was the 6 inch long horn tumor growing from a French washerwoman's forehead that did it for me, I believe. Wugga. I had a Dunkin' Donuts experience as follows:

Surly Counter Person #1: What ya want?

Me: Uh... a medium hot chocolate and a lemon-

Surly Counter Person #1: You want a what?

Me: A medium hot chocolate and a-

Surly Conter Person #1 : A medium hot chocolate and a what?

Me: A lemon jelly donut and a glazed-

Surly Counter Person #1: (as Surly Counter Person #2 begins to bag my donuts) Nu-uh. No no no. There's lemon, and then there's jelly. Ain't no such thing as a lemon jelly donut.

Me: Ok, a lemon donut and a glazed-

Surly Conter Person #1 (to #2) How many donuts in that bag?

Surly Conter Person #2: Three.

Me: No, I only want two. A lemon and a glazed, ok?

Surly Conter Person #2: (Gleefully) You said "JELLY"! (The two counter people smirk at me for my jelly ignorance.)

Me: Ok, sorry. No jelly. Just a lemon and a glazed.

At this point, our conversation is ceased by the entrance of a Jersey woman, who carries a cup in front of her as is it is a very offensive object. She is pregnant. She storms the counter.

Jersey Woman: It tastes Burnt.

Surly Counter Person #3: What is it? 

Jersey Woman: It Tastes Burnt.

Surly Counter Person #3: What IS it? 

Jersey Woman: It Tastes Burnt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Surly Counter Person #3: What IS it?

Jersey Woman: It's coffee.

Surly Conter Person #3: That's what I was axing you!

Jersey Woman: You don't need to get all-

Surly Counter Person #4: No, you need to tell us what it IS.

Surly Counter Person #2: Yeah, she don't know what's in your cup. Could be anything.

Jersey Woman: Well, it's coffee and it tastes Burnt.

Surly Counter Person #4: Well, that's all you had to say now, isn't it?

They give her fresh coffee, which apparently does not taste Burnt. I get my order. The Jersey Woman and I roll our eyes at each other. The end.

Gotta love it.

There were many other highlights, including meeting Mike's new ladylove, people watching at the local diner and bar, and multiple giant tables of feasting, drinking friends. Many nights raged until until 5 AM. David gave me a new song to obsess about, Burn Back's "Make the Logo Bigger." I recommend it highly. Last night, Gabe showed me the Steve McQueen/Ali McGraw Peckinpah classic, "The Getaway". Now that's what I call a movie. I met Tasha's dad and he gave me a touching gift that makes me cry. Adriana bestowed a piece of Camilla's jewelry on me that I will treasure forever. I received the gift of great talks with old friends, too.

In short, I have everything I could possibly want within my web and I have been reminded of that most profoundly this week. My gratitude is giant, and my hope is alive.

There's so much more to say on all of it, but for now, I am going to go have my last Geno's cheesesteak and pass out again. Tomorrow I go back to La La Land, and life starts over in many ways...

G'nite.

What are the 10 foods you must have in your refrigerator and/or your kitchen cabinet? 
Submitted by Carol.  

I must have Coca Cola, 7-UP, Pulp Free Minute Maid Orange Juice or equivalent, Vitamin Waters of Myriad Colors, Claussen's Dill Pickles, Diamond Brand Maui Onion Flavored Almonds, Tombstone Pepperoni Pizza, Yoplait Cherry Yogurt, Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing, and, of course, HATCH GREEN CHILE. Most of those are drinks, and the last one goes in the freezer, but they really are my staples. Healthy, yo.

Wow, I'm hungry.