Showing posts from 2008
HOLIDAY CATSUP I have to say it, "Ease up on that particularly grating tune from The Nutcracker!" I know it screams 'holiday' and perhaps 'buy' or 'spend' to feeble marketing people who don't have the fucking creative initiative to get a composer to write a catchy new holiday tune, but I'm Nutcrackered out. OUT I tell you. Do you hear me Zales? How about you Hallmark? What do these advertising firms think? I can't distinguish between products and when that symphony strikes up those hackneyed strains that my wallet will fall open and I won't notice because I'll be in a Christmas rapture of dancing mice and soldiers? Well, it has the opposite effect. I wander away as quickly as I can without making a spectacle of myself covering my ears. Certainly not dancing toward a cash register. So KNOCK IT OFF! I was running around my LA apartment packing for NY the other morning and was aware of a new segment they were doing on The Today Sho
ARRRGGGHHH!,0,4420046.story May I have an estimate on how many times this will wake me up screaming in the middle of the night?!? Any guesses? I'll be haunted for the rest of my life! I have these voices in my head I can hear clearly: Doctor: Um, the last ultrasound showed twins, but now there's only one fetus forming. Mom: What happened? Doctor: It's not unheard of, one is sometimes absorbed... INTO THE OTHER TWIN'S BRAAAAIIIIINNNNNNN! Ivy All Red Ivy compositions, posts and blog content Copyright protected.
IT'S TOO POETIC & FRUSTRATING TO MAKE UP I've been meaning to go get a 2nd license plate for the clown car since, um, I got my first ticket for not having a front license plate back in 2006. I'd found a sweet parking spot on Arizona Ave in Santa Monica for a doctor's appointment that saved me being tortured by the elderly and infirm drivers in the St Joseph's parking structure as well as the $15 fee. YAY! But I came out to find a $75 ticket because I didn't have a front license plate on my car. WTF people? I'd only been issued one and put it on the back of my car along with my registration sticker when it arrived in the mail. I've gotten a few of those tickets in Santa Monica over the years and just paid them. Fuck! If they can't have a fair chance of ticketing me for running red lights with their cameras snapping pics of the front of my car and thereby identifying who I am by my license plate, then they need to ticket me? Well, it's not my
ODD BITS OF CATSUP Today my company is relocating their offices to Santa Monica. The purge is over and we've all rid our offices of 6 year old FedEx slips and production binders with urgent notations to get photographers for photo shoots that took place in 2003. Now, I'm sitting atop 3 big plastic yellow bins that contain my professional documents and necessary accoutrement (read electric pencil sharpener cuz pencils are my fave) and I'm excusing my staff at noon. I will be heading to my therapist appointment and then home to work remotely until the new office is settled next week. The next 4 days should be a professional train wreck. But that's just my negativity talking. Speaking of negativity, I went to an event on Monday evening held at a really spectacular home up in the Hills of Beverly. The hostess was warm and gracious. The evening was a yoga class followed by a potluck and fundraiser for orphans. Everyone I met as I walked in was upbeat yet mellow and ready
THEY’VE GONE TOO FAR AND 1 TAG IS ENOUGH Yes, I know, I’ve been dreadfully lacking in bloggage for a while now, and though I’m no less frantically busy, something has come to my attention that begs to be blogged about. Actually I’m shocked that I hadn’t read anything on the topic. Shocked. Let me back up and give you some context. A while ago a friend picked up a Playboy magazine that featured me circa 1990 and during the silent flicking of the pages the only remark was, “Hmmm, that was back in the bush era.” Me: Um, yup, senior. It was before Clinton, yes. HC: Uh, no, back before Brazilians changed the landscape of porn. Me: Say what? We didn’t have bushes. HC: Not bushy bushes, just that you guys had hair. Me: (grumbling) it isn’t porn. God! And our hair was well groomed. God! What ev! So the next day I asked Leili. Me: What’s up with Brazilians? Leili: Oh! I’ve been scarred from my first and only Brazilian! Me: OMG! Burned?!? Leili: No, but just as bad! Mentally scarred!
CLOWN CAR CALAMITY Awww. Poor little clown car. Yes, it had an accident. Hard to wonder now that its home is K-town isn't it? Well, while progressing through the left-hand turn lane on Olympic with the intention of turning onto Western the clown car had a close encounter with a Chevy. There were several cars cruising behind me in the turn lane so when I saw a car just ahead of me pull a quick maneuver in attempt to escape Olympic by making a quick left... all I could do was utter "SSHHHH" as I laid on the horn and braked as hard as I could. I didn't even have time to actually say "shit" before the impact. Hey, I could have avoided the Chevy but that would have meant swerving into oncoming traffic and now I'd be writing from the other side of the After Life. But I don't value the little green bug that much. My braking strategy worked pretty good because I could tell when the cars hit that there was a pretty good chance that no one was injured. Then I
THE IVY DISCONNECT OK. I know that people don’t get my personal disconnect. But I grow so unbelievably frustrated that I want to scream and claw my face. Wait. That composition of letters and fonts doesn’t properly express my message. I GROW SO UNBELIEVABLY FRUSTRATED THAT I WANT TO SCREAM AND CLAW MY FACE! For my entire life, I’ve explained to people who seek to involve me in social situations, “I’m not social. I'd prefer not to do that.” They scoff and tell me that I’m the most social person they know. This is based upon watching me with people. I am friendly and engaging and well-spoken on a wide variety of topics that I can converse upon to make a dizzying array of people feel comfortable in my presence. I can bring someone into a room and put them at ease. I can form confidences quickly. BUT I do that at a price. I don’t know why people gravitate toward me. I don’t know why people plant themselves in the door of my office and draw my attention. My brother once said that p
VANITY, THY NAME IS IVY How do I get myself into things? No. I'm really asking you. You all know me well enough - have my internal thoughts and impulses for years before you and must have that I-can-see-the-forest-cuz-I-don't-have-any-of-your-motherfuckin'-trees-in-my-way perspective that you can share with me right? OK. Need some context for what I'm requesting? Need to know what particular "thing" I'm referring to? Well, it isn't getting myself shoved into an absurdly loud MRI coffin. And it isn't becoming BFFs with a bunch of lonely people. And it isn't climbing onto a counter and feebly disarming a motion detector during a violent storm in the middle of the night in only my RED Gap underpants. Nope. This is a new experience and I wasn't prepared for it. Why are there so many things in life that the people who should prepare you for.. happen to you but they don't give you the down low? Down Low is HUGE people. Just give it to a fr
I FEEL RIGID It’s no secret that I tend toward rigidity. I don’t want to bend and I don’t want to be flexible – mentally that is. And I’ve remarked in the past, life forces me to loosen up a bit and try to go with the flow. I try. That's all I can say. I try. Well recently I immersed myself in the practice of yoga. I really do love it for so many reasons. I feel detoxified, worked and somehow virtuous or clean aside from all the sweat. I’d been going every day to YogaWorks on Larchmont, trying every different class I could to experience each instructor and different type of practice (except the ones for pregnant women – I kinda felt like I would be viewed as an interloper and was frankly frightened of all those gushing yummy-mummy hormones that might seep into me). I got great pleasure from experiencing my strength and took pride in my not-bad-at-all form and for about a week, the increase in my flexibility was encouraging. But then my right shoulder started to tweak as it has o
HIDDEN CAMERA? NO, MUCH SADDER I started a new test group that is unique in the history of our test groups -- and recently met with all of the selected participants for an orientation. I stood up in front of them and gave them a complete rundown of the entire experience they'd be having during the group as well as everything they'd committed to and the list of activities they'd be participating in. I opened the floor to questions (and a film crew was capturing this for a news show) when the first question came out of left field, "I might be bad with gluten, has anyone called my mom?" I stared at her. 1st Crazy: "I mean, I don't have an alergy or anything, I just like know. Like you KNOW with glucose." Me: "I don't understand your question. Do you mean gluten or glucose ?" 1st Crazy: "They were supposed to call my MOM!" Me: "OK, um, WHO was supposed to call your mom? And I don't understand, you're clearly an ad
SADNESS & FAILURE I met Joe at our old table yesterday at noon - a lot of years we'd been eating at The Farmer's Market on Sunday. But instead of him reading his paper and me nibbling Moishe's food and wandering around buying things, we sat and looked at each other. Joe was direct and offered to start divorce paperwork. He was kind and centered and self possessed and generous and looked very well indeed. I accepted his kind gesture and gift. We hugged and I walked away crying looking for a tissue and went home to Evadnae. Now I am going to shut off the computer and gather Evadnae into my arms, not let this massive fucking failure crush me -- and go back to bed placing him onto my head. First I will brush my teeth. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'll figure that out when I wake up. Is this depressive behavior? Yes. Yes it is, but to quote Scarlet O'Hara "I'll think about it tomorrow." Ivy PS My fucking Blackberry is missing. All Red Ivy comp
TIDAL WAVE Got some calls asking if I was OK after that last blog. Hmmm. Was it the therapy? That's not new. Was it the coffee on the socks? Was it my possessed Blackberry? Everyone had no real answer. I took those calls this morning on my way to the office to meet a tidal wave of work which I was hoping to crest and ride like an adept surfer as opposed to standing on the lonely sand and being crushed by its might and then swept away and to be tumbled around like a load of laundry by my massive workload. Sitting at a light I stared at KISS THE RAIN COFFEE. How very Asian and thereby poetic. I wonder what their coffee tastes like. They were open but when I come home from work, they always have their gate closed and locked. Guess they're only open for early java fiends - those looking for a late afternoon or evening pick-me-up are not their chosen demographic. Kiss the Rain doesn't need their dollars. Reminds me of Cloud Swallow which unless I'm smoking too much crack,
COFFEE, BBERRY & GOTTA PEE? Got up early and Evadnae and I cruised through our morning routine. Then I was off to work to start my day. Swung through a drive-thru for an iced coffee and out onto Wilshire. Traffic was moving around 35 MPH and I was in the center lane behind a brand spanking new Jaguar that was being driven by an Asian woman wearing enormous black plastic sunglasses. Next to us a Metro bus that was stopped in the bus lane to our right turned on its turn signal. She locked on her brakes and skidded to a stop causing me to do the same - but I was sure I wouldn't be able to stop before I smashed into the very expensive rear end of her Jag. My purse and all of its contents flew into my dashboard and windshield. Still waiting to hear the crunch of the collision I realized that the iced coffee was moving out of my lap toward the floor - and I clamped down on it with my thighs catching it. The cup had tipped top forward and I felt icy liquid splash onto my ankles, sock
SPRING 2008 UPDATE OK, you’ve gotten sporadic updates that don’t have any cohesive narrative over the past month or so, and hey, that’s blogging baby. But as I sit on United flight 192 bound for Philly with time to kill before departure, sitting only one seat back from first class where Tony sits with his eyes closed, and I have 2 – not 1 but 2—crying babies behind me, I am thinking about what is going on in my life. Work is going very well. I’m struggling with one problem program, but it has such potential that I’m not giving up on it – even though (sorry, that was such a stratospheric high whistle-pitched scream from one of the babies that I lost my train of thought completely, now what the fuck was I blogging? Oh yes) I have literally no time for extra work to revive that program, I’ll devote time in the evening and on weekends to get it back on track or just drive it straight off the cliff as it were. Yes, I’ve heard that you can drive a problem project off a cliff – at least my
WHASSUP? OK, before the blog I've just got to to get the pick up lines out in the open. Someone has to start a class in all halls of higher education on the basic curriculum for breaking the ice. The ice being the natural coating of people who are going about their business in life and not wanting to adopt a homeless person or giving all of their lunch money to some wino. Come on men of Beverly Hills, aren't you supposed to be a cut above? Me standing in my elevator at 7:30 AM: (breathing silently) Guy: Nice purse. Me: (looking down and acknowledgeing my purse.) Guy: I think my sister would like that, it's really nice, maybe I'll buy it for her. Where did you get it if you don't mind my asking? Me: Banana Republic. Guy: Oh, uh huh. Me: (staring at the wall) Guy: Did your boyfriend or husband buy that for you? As he turns to me and does the full frontal "hello I'm a guy and you're a female" physical 'hi-ya' thing that mack daddies do. Oh
I LOVE PARIS BUT NOT PARASITE OR ANYTHING SIMILAR...AND MORE First let me start with the "more" snippets. Laying back in a Korean nail salon getting a pedicure I stared at a sign from under partially closed eyelids: "#3 Special Spa Salt Pedi. Sooth tired with scrub and helth binifits and HEALTHY plus lotion rub circulation EXTRA GOOD" The word 'healthy' that was in all caps used a capital "I" and a dash as the letter 'L'. I pondered how they could spell 'circulation' but not 'benefits', 'soothe' or 'health' for that matter, but 'healthy' they could spell even if it was a bit of a cut and paste job to make that 'L'. I had to agree with part of the message in theory, yes, lotion rub circulation WAS extra good. Also, 'Happy' is a big thing in Korea. I live near the Happy Bookstore where I picture them only selling those books written by comedeans like Paul Riser's book about how h
THE GRETCH HAS GOT MAD SKLLS Oh, yes, funny how this should come on the heels of that last post. Yes, I love irony, so grab a comfy seat and take this cozy blanket of ironic coziness and wrap it around your shoulders and get all snuggly. All set? Are ya good? OK. Well, I am a big fan of The gretch. And she can do things that most women can't do, and she likes to dance, which I'm confident that I will get to witness some day soon. But I showed her around my little abode and she measured my windows to get curtains for me so that I could do away with the chronic eyesores that are the mini-blinds that my landlord installed. We also talked about painting my tiny bathroom together. I illustrated the minisculeness of my bathroom by sitting on my toilet (with pants on, what do you take me for?) and slinging my legs into my bathtub). So painting could take the two of us, like 6 minutes, then we could go for a hike or something! Last night she brought over beautiful curtains that were
THE DARWIN AWARD GOES TO... and ABOUT TOWN So I'm now in a suite at work that doesn't have a private bathroom. Fine. I'm telling you, I'm fine with everyone in my department being consolidated (like that could be a good thing, getting all of us cooped up together so we get on each other's nerves, cuz like when we're forced into hotels and sound stages together for days and weeks at a time, we don't start to grate on one another, but it's unavoidable, we're in production... um producing and shit... together, but when we're not actually doing a production, we should be APART not consolidated, not that I'm bitching. See me not bitching? Regard how I do not bitch about the consolidating?) and I've been moved away from the desk I had with my view of Larry Flynt's building, and conversely, he had his view of me changing into my workout gear most days at 5:00 PM next to my desk. Larry and I had good thing going, but now I face, nothing. A
Feelin' Philly I know, I know, I've been a phantom. I haven't checked my personal e-mail account in a very long time, and I guess that it is now official. I have no personal life. Pathetic non? Oui! Alors, d'accord. Rest assurred that I'm making that little French expression of exasperation with the eye roll and the quick puffing out of my cheeks. Je sais, quelle dommage. OK, I may be owning up to being absent but that's no excuse to mangle Le Language Francais? Is that what you're shouting t the computer like I can hear you? And what does this blog have to do with French anyway? Not a Goddamn thing so I'll move on. Since my last update I traveled to Philadelphia to accompany one of my trainers for an appearance on QVC. But then I had another appearance with our Hip Hop program within days. I decided to take everyone's advice and go into Philadelphia proper for the days in between appearances instead of 2 solid days lost flying across the entire
HE'S A TALKER AND PARTY LIKE A ROCK STAR I've been living on a video set in Burbank for over a week and have a little area set up with my computer and my phones just off camera so that in between takes I don't fall hopelessly behind on my other projects. I'm stuck at that table and have legal calls, work emergencies, QVC coordination, you name it that I've got to accomplish in the periods of time between "Cut!" and "Rolling!". I can't just leave and go conduct business anywhere else on the sound stage or the hallways or the dressing rooms or the Craft Service Kitchen or the park benches outside or on the sidewalks. Nope, I'm stuck at my make shift desk. However, one of the crew likes to hover near me and talk. And talk and talk and talk talk talk talk talk. He could wander anywhere to have his conversations or running monologues - but no. I've continuously had to shush him or frantically wave to him to get his attention and then mim
SHE GOT FIRED Awe, the queen of I GOT, Sister Craft Service Gal got fired. Apparently she's GOT a thing for a bargain, but finds it acceptable to save money by buying expired food. 3 people got sick in 2 days on our set. She was even caught with expired cans of soda. Whew knew? Soda must be frightfully old to have expired! Christ! That started the day, and then we had to let 2 of the cast members go who just couldn't do the moves. Who was next? Shemeka got called back to the director's trailer* and I had to get on the headset and ask Andrea not to fire her. I need her for the upcoming QVC junket! Then we experienced some hefty delays that kept us here last night till around 8:30 PM (and our call time is always 7:00 AM!) and today we find out that the electrician just didn't ever hit the Play button during our transitions for a LED display. So he's just been called out to the trailer and I'm pretty sure he won't be coming back again. Human carnage being to