Unicorns, Bears, Sugar Pine Trees and old Russian proverbs.

This weekend the Russian part of my family took over. Half of my husband’s Russian family lives in L.A.(his dad, stepmom, aunt, grandma and cousin) so once a year I make the trek and we do something special in the LA area.

Last year we skipped the LA trip and went far east to Moscow to see the other side of his family (his mom and step dad)  in 2007.  Highlights from that trip included agreeing to be interviewed for the International NTV channel (in Russian) and taking his parents to the Le Meridien in Moscow for a few days, which is a very nice hotel, especially for his mom and dad who don’t do fancy things. We bought his mom a swimsuit and it was actually the first time she’d swam in a pool in twenty years! Can you imagine? This made me very happy. I enjoyed watching from the sidelines  in between reading my amazing book: Suite Francaise.

This year, we decided to travel on the cheap (sort of).  We just did a two-day backpacking trip to Sequoia National Park, which is about two and a half hours from Los Angeles. I didn’t really want to go, but now that it’s over, I must say, I had a great time, and I felt extremely present, which isn’t always the case. We are an interesting little family unit when we all get together. We are all funny. The Paperny family is one of the funniest and interesting groups of people that I have ever met, so coming from an equally goofy family (but in a different way) I think our families mix well together — or, I think I mix well with them.

Dmitry, my husband is the funny one, who really keeps the group together. He’s the planner and has everything organized (he secretly bought me a new back pack for the trip by measuring me while I was asleep). Dmitry is truly one of the most darling people that I have ever met in my life. So I guess I am glad that he’s my husband. His sister Tanya is much younger than us, but she’s very mature and interesting to talk to, so it makes us almost even. At only 22 she’s working her first real job in youth advocacy in D.C. She is really into saving money and living on “what she has now” (I went through a phase like that too). She’s already volunteered in New Orleans twice! When she lost her cell phone, we gave her one of our old ones instead of her buying a new one. She’s forgetful, has a bad back and already “doesn’t want to talk about work.”

Dmity’s dad, Vadik, a true intellectual Russian. He’s been living in LA for the past 25 years and has a design studio there. Though, outside of his design work, he is an “intellectual” on many things. He has a PhD and has written a book in Russia about architecture that his made him sort of celebrity in Moscow. Vadik spent his time teaching me a Russian proverb about an old man who planted a turnip that grew too big. I turned it into a rap song. Since we ran out of wine, I only learned half the song, which in English just sounds ridiculous….

When we get together, it always makes for fun times.

So anyway, the four of us took off like a pack of turtles and drove up to the park. We got a campsite and pitched our tents. The next morning we took off for our 7 mile hike, 3.4 up and 3.4 down. It was a long day, and at some point while you are huffing and puffing you are wondering “why?” It’s in moment’s like these that you are already imagining the hot tub at home (Dmitry’s dad has one) and the massage you’ll get and the burger at “In and Out Burger.” But at present, all you can do is feel the pain and try to breathe.

That night, I couldn’t sleep at all. I heard that a mama bear and her cub wandered around the campsite at night (but were “harmless”)….whatever. I kept imagining that a bear snout was going to come popping into my tent at any moment. It never happened, but I did peak out to see the giant sequoias and the stars. The stars were some of the brightest I’ve seen. And in that moment, one fell from the sky and I made a wish. A moment later, a deer or perhaps some other great animal began to graze on the nearby grass and this kept me up all night. Who’s eating the grass? A deer, a bear, something else? We decided later, when we went on a walk to “learn about the trees” that what we heard was a Unicorn and the small stretch of grass must be magical.

Early the next day we were invited to take a tour to learn all about the trees in our area. While I was trying to decide the difference between a Ponderosa and a Jeffereson or a Sugar Pine, White Fir and a Giant Sequoia, I became aware, awake and alive. We then continued on our walk to a cabin in the middle of the woods, which we were told was Grace Allen’s cabin, a woman who spent many summers living in this area. On our way to the cabin we saw old junk, pots and pans from 1890 all covered in rust. When we arrived at the door, a nice old lady came out dressed in some vintage settler’s attire a la 1898. She introduced herself as Grace Allen and asked if we wanted a cool glass of lemonade. She then said her father had moved here in 1880 to run the mill, and she was born here in this cabin in 1887, which would make her about 141 years old, perhaps the oldest person in the world. Huh? My eyes popped out of my head. Huh? But she only looks about 80. What’s going on here? Is this place the fountain of youth? Am I just tired? No, perhaps I’m just waking up.

Garbage on the city; my summer getaways

I spent most of my weekends getting out of the city as much as possible. As most New Yorkers know, New York is a stinky, sweltering shit hole in the summer. Okay, it’s nice to sit outside at night when it’s still warm to get a drink…and it’s great to get indoors to air conditioning as much as possible. But the weather outside is steamy and gross — and smells like garbage. Sorry, New York, I’ve got to be honest. And I’m not so much of a Hamptons girl. If I’m going to get away, I mean, let’s get out of town.

Anyway, moving on. My getaways have been awesome so far. In early June, we spent a weekend in Northern California, which is where I’m from. My husband has taken up our family tradition of going for Abalone at our summer home at The Sea Ranch. It’s beautiful in Northern California, as anyone who has spent time there knows. For me, however, my trips are always about catching up with friends and family.

For the 4th of July we spent the weekend at my friend Gabe’s converted barn in the Catskill mountains. 30 people – both new and old friends – were in and out for some great food, conversation and frolicking. There were kittens, a pool table, ping pong, ice cream, a swimming hole, a hot tub and many rounds of Horse Shoes. I know that sounds weird, but it was all mucho fun, that was very needed.

In mid July, we were in Maine for a wedding. I’ve never eaten so much Lobster in my life. We did a little sailing, kayaking, dancing, Lobster eating….and Lobster eating.

Last weekend I met up with my husband in London, which was incredibly brief but super fun. We had an unforgettable 5 course meal at a place called “Gaston” and stayed at a super cool hotel called “The Zetter. The free espresso machine down the hall from our room was enough to make this one of my favorite hotels of all time!

I’ve been to London many, many times. In fact, how I ended up moving to New York had to do with a English beau (a Captain in the British Army no less) and a London job-offer that turned into a New York job offer….

So I’ve spent much time in the UK, and feel very at home there. In 2006, one of my favorite plays “Below 14th” was produced in a festival there. I brought my mom and we used the Tube to go everywhere….it was such fun.

This time, we saw the “Changing of the Guards” at Buckingham Palace, spent time wandering around Notting Hill, and even saw the Tower of London, which was interesting considering my interest in the Tudor era of history. On the plane ride home, I watched the film: “The Other Boylen Girl,” which helped seal the deal on the Anne Boylen story. By the way if anyone is interested to know more about Henry’s wives go to this link.

Now I’m back to New York City, and it’s not so bad. I’ve been working pretty hard this summer, so the weekend getaways were just that: short moments away to breathe. I started a new online marketing job in April and it’s been stressful. To keep up with it all, I’ve been doing pilates, yoga, dance class and swimming on a regular basis. For the past three weeks, I’ve been drinking NONI JUICE every morning. And you know, I’m feeling better. I have more energy. This is a year of lots of change. I’ve done very little with my playwriting this year so far, but I am working on a new play and that’s exciting.

Top Girls

A friend invited me to get a free ticket to see Carol Churchill’s Top Girls, presented at the Bitmore Theater in NYC. What an treat. Fist of all, we had great seats — 6th row. Second, we got to use the patron’s lounge, which included free M&M’s and wine during both intermissions. The drama on stage was superb, some of the best acting I’ve ever seen! But the drama off-stage almost usurped the whole experience for me.

As the lights lowered, I unzipped my purse and there was a slight whiz to the zip. A grumpy bear of a man sitting next to me, who looked as if he was about to nod off, peered at me with serious discontent at this with a look like
“Make one false move and I’ll kill you.” I thought, oh no, I’m sitting next to “one of these.”

“One of these” is one of these older gentlemen who is no longer a gentleman, but a rude, uncouth monster and the theater is full of them these days.

10 minutes into the first act, he was fast asleep, thank goodness. But then again, so was I.

The first act of the play, and particularly the first 20 minutes are difficult to sit through. In Act I we see Marlene, a career gal, hosting a dinner party with five women from history who have accomplished something important for their era. I found the choice of women rather odd, since none of them had accomplished anything per se, save Pope Joan. Pope Joan, who disguised as a man, was rumored to have been the Pope between 854-856 AD, although likely a character from a legend popularized during the Middle Ages.

The six of them, Isabella Bird, a Scotswoman who traveled in the late 17th Century, Lady Nijo, a courtesan to a Japanese emperor in the 11th Century, Dull Gret, the subject of a painting, Patient Griselda, from fables and Pope Joan, all talk over each other while they eat and none of it is very coherent. I couldn’t help feeling like all these women are just talking about themselves. Then suddenly, it happened. The old red-haired woman sitting in front of us (a lady version of the old monster man), turned to her lady monster friend and said in quite a loud voice (she could’ve been an actor her voice was so robust) “What’s going on? I don’t understand anything.”

The mean man next to me woke up at this. Who dared speak in the theater? Without a moments hesitation he tapped her on the shoulder and yelled “BE QUIET.” He could’ve been a drill sergeant, his voice was so loud. They were no longer at a theater surrounded by others and actors on stage performing, they were in their own playground throwing stones at each other.

“DON’T TOUCH ME.” She yelled back.

Then, nearly punching her out, he yelled “If YOU DON’T BE QUIET I’LL HAVE YOU THROWN OUT!

“I’ll CALL THE POLICE.” She retorted, as if she said this on a daily basis.

Then, all was quiet and the play went on. When the lights came up, the man I was so frightened of, turned to me and asked me about my playwriting. I guess he overheard me chatting with my friends. He certainly seemed nice enough. But then, the arguing and drama started again, and I excused myself.

Upstairs in the patrons lounge I was shoved out of the way by an old woman who just had to get her M&M’s.

When the second act started, the mean man and his wife were gone, but I was thinking what’s the deal with all these gray haired meanies? I guess when you get past a certain age, you no longer care about being polite. When you go out to a theater with a very old subscriber base, like MTC has, this is oh so evident. A majority of the older people seemed pushy and impatient, which is understandable. Getting old sucks. For some, just getting to the theater was a huge struggle; they don’t feel good and they’d rather be at home and in bed. I get it. Still is no fun to be sitting next to so many that are so GRUMPY. It’s a good thing, the play improved with the second act.

In ACT II, we see Marlene again, busy at work the “Top Girls” employment agency. She’s just been promoted and the action centers around what a great accomplishment it is for a woman to be promoted over a man, which she has been. Turns out, Marlene has given up a lot to get to this position. Her sister, played excellently by Marisa Tomei, adopted her daughter, Angie, who is now a teenager and sadly “thick in the head.” When Angie, who guesses that Marlene is her real mom, shows up in the city at her job, Marlene tells the other girls that Angie couldn’t work at “Top Girls” because she isn’t going to “make it.” The play shows that to be a “Top Girl” you need to have it all, brains, beauty, style – and be self centered enough to leave the losers behind.

What to make of all this? It’s not a typical structure, but the play somehow builds to a coherent end that sums it all up.  I originally thought the women in the first act at the dinner party were odd choices as none of them were “known” — were actually brilliant choices for their relatively unknown accomplishments.   “Top Girls”  is any “girl” that does something strong, which is every woman, every day.

After the play, I went out with the “girls” until 3AM – and the play inspired us to talk all night. Of course we talked about Hillary and women’s issues. Now that’s good theater.

Thanks to Hillary…SATC and Brenda Starr Reporter

Now that all the Hillary hating is over, people can start missing her. In some of those photos, Hillary is absolutely stunning. Her beauty is deep within in the lines of her face.

The political landscape is far less interesting these days without her in the race.

I spoke to the Marketing Director of The Chicago Tribune today and she said: “Never in my life did I think I’d see the day when a black man and a white woman would be running for president. Together they’d be unstoppable.”

Probably.

Why was I talking to the Marketing Director of the Chicago Tribune? Well, because we were chatting about my granny and Brenda Starr — and how my granny, Dale Messick was one of the early pioneers for women, paving the way for not only other cartoonists, but for journalists. Dale Messick via her character Brenda Starr Reporter inspired millions with the “I’m a woman and I can do it” attitude.

SATC – perhaps it just proves that movies don’t have to be all about men or violence to be popular.

Weekly update….

I had a play reading tonight of my new play. It was so cool, because I was so relaxed (for a change) — and shocker, it was really good interesting stuff.  It’s coming along.  Now I’ll I have to do is write the second act.

I write in little (and I mean tiny) spurts.  It takes sometimes two days of procrastinating to write for 20 minutes.  But once I am invested in an idea, then, well, I can’t help but want to write because I fall in love with the characters and their dramas. I want to find out what they are doing…

Anyway, what else is new?  Uh, Hillary!  I want a miracle to happen.

I’m watching the final two episodes of the Tudors….it’s really good. I take back everything bad that I said about the casting.  It’s really fantastic.  Poor Anne.

Saw SATC on Saturday night with my girlfriends — loved it.  But who goes to bed with a string of pearls?

Always look your best: a note from a slob

It’s Sunday. It’s raining out and although I am thrilled to death that I have no plans, at some point I must venture out. Will I work out? Get my nails done? Go to lunch with my husband? Go to a playwriting group? Check yes to all of the above! So even though I have some cute outfits, I never wear my Sunday best. I wear whatever is nearby — and I always look like crap. My hair is in a bun and I usually wear my pink Converse and something scary. To be perfectly honest, I wear clothes that should be thrown away – and it seems to give me pleasure to looks so awful. Maybe I am rebelling from having to dress up to go to an office day in and day out. Maybe this desire to be a pig stems from growing up in the mountains, or the fact that I once lived in the outback for thirty days and wore the same four outfits and never took a shower.

But now I’m much different — during the week if you catch me I usually look pretty nice — and lately I’ve even been keeping up on my hair, it’s “coiffed.”

My grandma had a mantra — and it was always look your best — you never know who you might see. My granny always looked like a million bucks, and my mom always looks good and they’ve always been harping on me about my appearance. Well, I learned something recently —

One Sunday, I was uncharacteristically trying to look a little dapper. I was trying to look cute, which I should just give up on that plan: it’s Sunday, it won’t happen. We had lunch plans with another couple, so I tried a little bit harder than usual. No, of course I didn’t shower — but I swept up my hair into a bun and then put on a Fedora, green army jacket, pink sweater draped over super tight jeans and high brown boots. This little number was almost chic for a Sunday in the West Village, but it was borderline. I sort of looked like I belonged in a J-Lo video or perhaps I was auditioning for the next Indiana Jones movie. So the next day, Monday, I had a big meeting at work — my corporate job — and I decided to wear the same outfit. Of course, I didn’t notice how tight the pants were until I had to back away from people and avoid bending over lest I wanted them to see my butt crack. What possessed me to wear my Indiana Jones outfit to work? I’ll never know….but that outfit still remains one of my worst Sunday fashion choices that should have never, never, never been one of my Monday choices.

Grand Theft Auto – finally talking Russian, Niko’s hot.

Grand — the character of Niko.  Last night my Russian husband Dmitry killed “Dmitry” as the character of Niko.  Again I went to bed with the sounds of guns blasting off.  He told me they killed his girlfriend in the game, so he decided to kill the bad guys.  Niko is kind of hot.

I’ve spent the last few weeks with a crazy roommate, not a husband.  I’ve even started watching TV from our never used TV in the bedroom.  And ya know – it hasn’t been so bad.

Some of the music in Grand Theft Auto is amazing, particularly “Schweine” And the Russian is bad ass.

I’ve been working at my new job, which is much cooler than my old job.  I am enjoying it.  I’d forgotten the possibility of enjoying your job.  Now I’m not feeling sick all the time.  Got drunk with a girlfriend last night, came home to my real life Dmitry in the last moments of the game.  Don’t remember much after that.  I want to move to Liberty City…oh, I already live there.

Plays I saw this week

This was a busy week for me.  Not only was it my birthday, but I saw two plays, one Broadway, one off and a concert.  I think I even went dancing too.  On Wednesday, my husband took me to see the highly anticipated August Osage County by Tracy Letts (he’s a man).  It was good, I enjoyed it. There were one too many revelations for my taste — but if you are going to rip off O’Neill, it needs to be good, and this is worth most of its hype (but it’s just a rip off of Long Days Journey if you ask me).  On Friday I took six girlfriends to the Womens Project’s production of “Crooked” – now this was interesting. We did the “Girls Night Out” special, which for $30 we get a ticket to the play, a free glass of wine at the theater, free entry into a club (this is where I did some dancing) and a goodie bag filled with all kinds of fun stuff.  I thought the play was very interesting.  The play digs into teenage angst, and at times was scary, which is good.  But it didn’t build as much as I thought it could have and the ending (to me) was a let down, almost forgettable.   Still, there’s one more week of this and I would recommended checking it out (especially on Friday when you can take friends and get the goodie bag).

A Ghost In Fancy Clothes, Voting and Rafta, Rafta…

Have you noticed lately that when you start talking about politics — your politics — that people start tuning in and listening to what you have to say? A few weeks ago, I was at a restaurant with my husband and overheard a group of young people talking about how much they hated Hillary. I got so irritated, that I started speaking in Russian to my husband just to avoid their chatter. When I start speaking in Russian I must be desperate to have a private conversation with my husband, because my Russian is not so good. It’s on a the level of a five-year-old who has the mind of a much older person, who just can’t get the words out.

I’ve been quiet lately about the Hillary thing, because I had trouble supporting her when all these semi-lies started to pop up. But I still like her as a candidate. I dunno….

Go ahead and call me “Business Girl” –and she’s going through her own set of politics. Do you ever realize at some point, you are re-doing things you’ve already done, but perhaps with less enthusiasm? I already had a career in business and left it — once, twice, three times — and at every point that I left the cube and the florescent lights and the office politics, I swore never do THAT again. At some point I became a playwright, went to grad school, got produced, published, made movies (as an actress), was an agent too — and felt alive. And then realized even at its best, playwriting alone is a hobby and not a job (though I did get my first writing paycheck last year). But I don’t like to be poor. I’ve tried it several times — and it sucks.

So what’s a girl to do? So I’ll never be “just business” again. I’m now playwriting/theater girl and whatever else I need to do for $$ will always be just that…but is it? From experience I know that corporate jobs take up more time than you think. They are never “just jobs.” Your soul in exchange for a paycheck. Thank you. You’re welcome. But that’s not how everyone sees it.

That business girl — who had a dream job for one of the hottest websites in its heyday, who was so, so vibrant and passionate and who loved being edgy. Well, she already lived and died and now she’s just a ghost…a ghost who can buy herself fancy clothes.

My next subject:(I made you read a lot to get here didn’t I?) Rafta Rafta. I saw the preview of a new play by Ayub Khan-Din which is based on the play All in Good Time by Bill Naughton. It’s being presented by the New Group and it’s running until late May. You should check this out. It’s hilarious and full of plucky, well-drawn, if not too over-the-top characters. The set and lighting is a blast – literally. It kind of blasts you out of slumber if that’s where you were heading. You’ll find yourself rooting and caring for the characters’ plights. Also, there’s some sex involved and THAT’s always fun, especially since the chemistry between the characters is excellent. The ending was a little pat for my taste, but the ride was a good one. I laughed a lot….and I realized I needed a laugh.

Elephant Art

Check out this site devoted to elephants learning to paint.  It’s amazing. Elephants are the bomb!