Taking no prisoners. Including herself.

(It is Valentine’s day. It is also my brother’s birthday, who passed away 3 years ago.) Dear C-

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§1203 · February 14, 2011 · Narrative, Over in Oakland, Unthinkable Loss · 4 comments ·


Today I did a little Sunday-improv action with Upright Citizens Brigade over at Pan Theater. It’s funny how I enrolled in the Level I improv class back at the new year just to “keep myself from getting rusty” while I had to take a little performing hiatus while I started my new job in January […]

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§1129 · July 25, 2010 · Daily1, Narrative, Over in Oakland, Performance · 1 comment ·


So today I got pulled over by a cop. We both played out the scripted roles. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” “I do.” “And why’s that?” “I was going too fast.” “Yes, yes you were. Are you heading home?” “No, I’m on my way to my teacher’s performance.” “And you’re in a […]

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§1101 · July 3, 2010 · Daily1, Narrative, Over in Oakland · (No comments) ·


There is no stopping it. The light continues to bleed. It breaks open in an endless run, yoke to sun. There will only be more light. We are essentially alone. Reaching up up up

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§1086 · June 29, 2010 · Daily1, Narrative, Over in Oakland, San Francisco glory · (No comments) · Tags: , , ,


So it seems that 29 is the lucky age where I get to become acutely aware of this whole “age” business — or, rather, the “stage of life” I’m in — or, rather, “should” [?] be in. That is to say, I have been attending a shit-load of weddings and baby showers.

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“What?!” I said, total disbelief splattered across my face. “How in the hell are you going to explain this–?” I glided my hand across and over the sloppyness below. God just looked at me, slightly embarrassed. “Well…?” I provoked. “Just try and tell me how the fuck you came up this.” I was trying to […]

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27 minutes past my self-imposed bedtime (welcome to the life of a hypomanic-proclivitist*[1]) and I am keying-out some creative word-show.

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Today I was reunited with an old lover:

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§804 · January 25, 2010 · Narrative, Over in Oakland · (No comments) ·


New

New job. New city. New home. New season. Newly single. New travels. New sport. New hair cut. New music. New hopes. New dreams. New Projects! New gratitude. New direction. New story. (almost) New year.

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§751 · December 6, 2009 · Narrative · (No comments) ·


“Ambition is the last refuge of failure.“  – Oscar Wilde One of the most amazing lessons of this adventure of producing my own show,  is how to not only accept but enjoy every moment that comes my way.  The Bahagavad Gita gently reminds us:

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§660 · September 26, 2009 · Narrative, Performance · (No comments) ·


Dear Gigi, Thank you for sending me an email at 6:53am to remind me that I should probably be posting on my blog right about now. Between walking for hours in the Phoenix heat to hang posters, selling my soul to get some publicity, and struggling to make some money with freelancing gigs so that […]

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§641 · September 17, 2009 · Narrative, Performance · 1 comment ·


I feel like a working single mother, slinging hash until midnight, then stumbling home with three little mouths to feed, in want of love.

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§575 · May 18, 2009 · Narrative, Sonoma County Splendor · 3 comments ·


Wow. I come back from Vietnam, don’t write about being home in California, skip right over my trip to Manhattan and almost forget that I’m preparing to return to New Mexico. I’ve been too busy being here to remember to write about all the “theres.” It’s been so long, Not Keeping Score, that I almost […]

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§573 · April 30, 2009 · Narrative · 3 comments · Tags: , , , , , ,


Hello, Hanoi (Part 11 of Many) Across the street a man is loading into a hand-drawn cart dozens of red bricks. Each brick has 4 cylindrical holes, and one by one, he lays them on top of their comrades, each singing a soft little clank as they fall.

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Hello, Hanoi (Part 10 of Many) I’ve started Vietnamese language classes at University of Hanoi, and moved to Dong Da district, closer to the campus. I rented a room in a house, where the water is bottled and there is even a washing machine. So much for eeking it out local-style.

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Hello, Hanoi (Part 8 of Many) More stories from my first couple of weeks… *    *    * It is Têt, and Bắc has invited me to spend this special new year’s week — a week so fantastic it is like New Year’s & Christmas & 4th of July & everyone’s birthday combined, I am told […]

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Hello, Hanoi (Part 6 of Many) Still remembering my first days here… *     *     * The rest of my day was full of pot holes and mud. Everything I wrote smelled like eggs, and I got lost 7 times over.  When I got back home to Bắc’s place, I swore I was buying my plane […]

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Hello, Hanoi (Part 5 of Many) I am sitting on the bed– on “my” bed for the next few months, I suppose. It is a little over a foot off the floor, made from dark mahogany-looking wood, with a woven grass mat on top. My friend and host, Bắc, has given me a couple of […]

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Hello, Hanoi (Part 4 of Many) Of course, I am just as trusting of the Vietnamese family as they are of me. Two hours ago I have stumbled in, following the signs for cafe and wifi, only to find myself sitting in someone’s dining room table cum coffee shop… and when I finally need to […]

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§559 · February 5, 2009 · Adventures in Asia, Location-Location, Narrative · (No comments) · Tags: , ,


Hello, Hanoi (Part 3 of Many) We made it. 3 hours later than I set out to write, I am sitting in someone’s living room drinking strong coffee and sugared lotus seeds. The Xe Om driver, knowing a shortcut, made his way beautifully through traffic and dropped me off in the Tay Ho district. I […]

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