Heaping Piles of Seething Rage of Steaming Anger

Two years ago, my friend Sara and I were interviewed for documentary on abortion. I even put on make up and shit so that I would not look like a fetus-eating zombie on film, hence making the pro-choice side of what we were assured was a "balanced" look at the abortion debate look bad. Nope. I wanted to represent!

I never heard back from the motherfuckers. Not even, "Thanks Suzanne. It was nice of you to take time out to help us make a shitty documentary that no one will see." So when I discovered that the filmmakers actually did come up with something - and it is a scripted "dramamentary" about abortion in which the pretty blond white girl is treated like shit by nasty nurses in an abortion clinic and thus of course have her baby and all is good and - deep breath; this is an angry run on sentence/rant, sorry - the black girl who is raped and comes to NYC to have her abortion is saved by the nice white woman who hosts her through the Haven Coalition (which I was, at the time I was interviewed, the co-head of), I was mad fucking pissed. These douches could at least have had the courtesy to email me and let me know their shitty "unbiased" film (featuring a really cuddly 22 week old fetus in utero) that I helped them with was coming out. Or at least a "Lifetime"-esque trailer that befits a solid piece of filmmaking such as this was online for my viewing pleasure.

Oh. And I did I mention that this "balanced" film is executive produced by the guy who made that other even-keeled movie, Passion of the Christ, and the awesome Ben Stein movie about how "science" teachers who want to teach that evolution is all a lie are persecuted by baby- and Christ-killing Jews like me? Right. (CORRECTION: "The Passion of the Christ" guy is the one marketing this balanced film, although the exec producer is a right winger, too - "Hollywood's Most Powerful Christian," according to Christianity Today magazine. My bad.)

Of course, some of the documentary footage that these tools shot is in the film. (Hence the "-umentary" part.) The pro-choice people, according to the "LA Times," all get to say things like how fetuses are nothing more than parasites (which, sorta, is true, but unlike digestive parasites which make women thin, fetus ones make them fat - ewwwwww). I'm assuming (hoping and praying) that I didn't make the cut, but since this doesn't appear to be available to pro-choice audiences, I may never know. I think it's unlikely that I'm in it, since I said that people who supposedly are "pro-life" have killed a lot of actual people, and that they really scare me. Seems like something that a "balanced" film would not want to highlight.

The Jamie Kennedy Experience

This story was told to me by Husband and Brother-in-Law. Although I have never done illegal drugs, nor have I ever even been drunk, I do not remember this incident at all.

In 2007, Husband, Brother-in-Law, and I went to see a documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival about stand up comedy. The film was done by the comic and actor Jamie Kennedy, who wanted to know why people don't find certain brands of humor funny. The first half of Heckler included many famous comedians talking about hecklers. The second part of the movie, however, focused on why critics hated Kennedy's movie, Malibu's Most Wanted. He hunted down critics and badgered them, insisting that they just didn't get it. (Husband said it was the worst movie he's ever seen at the Tribeca Film Festival, and I'm sure I hated it, but of course, I don't remember.)

Usually screenings at the Festival are packed. This one had only about ten people. Still, Jamie Kennedy came out after the movie to talk about it. Once Husband mentioned this part to me, I did recall that Kennedy was wasted on something. He heckled the audience. At one point, he asked us a question about what we find funny and why, and I made the mistake of raising my hand to answer it.

He did not like my response, whatever it was, and yelled at me. I yelled back at him. Apparently, we argued loudly for some time. Husband and Brother-in-Law found this hilarious.

I wish I could remember when I got into a verbal slam down with Jamie Kennedy.

Bobblehead Suzanne: Online or On TV...

I wish that I didn't nod nervously throughout my interview with the wonderful AnneLise Sorensen, but I am glad that I didn't look like a zombie:



Thanks again to AnneLise for having me on her show!

Awesomeness

My cousin told me to say hi to Tina and Alex when I went for my taping at 30 Rock, but sadly, I did not see them. Heck, I didn't even see the guy who plays the page. Or Janice Huff, my favorite weather person, who I'd be far more likely to run into since I was on the same floor as the news. I think.

The lack of celebrity sightings did not make my first TV appearance* any less exciting. AnneLise calmed my nerves, assuring me that I did not look like a zombie with too much eye makeup. She also said she liked my pixie haircut. Once I saw myself on the monitor, I felt a little better. AnneLise and I sat in front of a green screen, and I thought the subway car backdrop that they chose was pretty awesome.

AnneLise was great leading the interview, and I had a fun time talking to her. The production staff was also very nice. After we finished, they asked if it was my first time taping for TV. When I said yes, they said I was very professional. It was just a super experience overall. I can't thank AnneLise enough, and I also can't wait to see the segment on New York Nonstop!

*This discounts various times that I showed up in the audience of shows, like The Bozo Show when I was a kid, or during my period of talk show obsessions in 1994-1995, when I made a comment on The Rikki Lake Show and possibly also The Rolanda Show. Also, I ever so briefly appeared eating hot dogs in MTV's episode of Real Life ("I Want to Be a Professional Eater") because I stuffed my face next to Tim "Eater X" Janus, who was featured on the program. Although exciting, I do not count these.

30 Rock

Tomorrow I will be interviewed about my book by AnneLise Sorensen for her weekly travel segment on NBC. I owe this exciting opportunity to Julie Ross Godar, who is friends with AnneLise and suggested that she contact me.

Barring any last minutes changes in studio availability, I'm meeting AnneLise during my lunch hour at - drum roll, trumpet blast, gong bang, whatever other large noise - 30 Rockefeller Center! Yes, 30 Rock! Man, oh man, I am so excited.

At the same time, I am scared shitless. Not to be interviewed - I'm psyched about that - but to appear on HDTV. AnneLise suggested that I will be fine if I wear "just a little more make up than usual." Ha ha ha ha! Oh, if only she knew. That means I will look like a zombie with a little lip gloss* and mascara. Sigh.

*That, however, is not like dressing up a pig in lipstick.

Suzanne Ilana Goes Public

My appearance on "Seven Second Delay with Ken and Andy" went very well last night. I had a great time talking about the book, although within the first two seconds I revealed my deepest, darkest secret: my middle name. I probably also burst the eardrums of unsuspecting listeners with my shrill imitation of my mom yelling at me. Fortunately, they let me stay and talk about the book.

To hear this outburst (and my love for the Masons Hall, Mother Cabrini Shrine, Enrico Caruso Museum, and Rev. Jen's Troll Doll Museum), there is a Podcast. I come on about 19 minutes into the show and blather on for ten minutes.

I was horrified when I noticed that there were also photographs posted (if I had known, I might've worn make-up), but I discovered that I look fine. Especially in comparison to Wallace Shawn, who rocked the house. Inconceivable!

Um

To prepare for my appearance on Seven Second Delay tomorrow, I thought it wise to review my last "Off the Beaten(Subway) Track" presentation. I put together a little slide show on subway road trips in general and some sites that are found along the A train. To my enormous horror, I discovered that I say "um" approximately every four seconds. (If you can stand it, see for yourself below. Between "ums", there is actually some intelligent humor.)

"Off the Beaten (Subway) Track" at Adult Education (June 2, 2009) from OTBST on Vimeo.

I always thought I was a good public speaker, but if everything sounds like that little talk, eek! If I can't get around saying "um," maybe I should try saying "ohm." At least that way I'll get some meditative benefits. Oy vey.

Hitting the Big Time - Inconceivable!

Last week was (another) rough week. This not having a job thing is really weighing on me. Even though other good things are happening, I've been in a serious unemployment funk.

Then, as I was moping around Grand Central Station on Thursday while waiting for a friend, I received the following email on my BlackBerry:

I'm writing to invite you to a live radio show at the UCB Theater in Chelsea next week, Weds, Oct 7th between 6-7pm. I'm sorry for the short notice, but one of our listeners suggested you as a guest, and you'd be in great company -- also booked for that evening is author/actor Wallace Shawn and comedian Brent Weinbach. We'd love to
talk about your book "Off the Beaten Subway Track" and get some tips from you about exploring NYC.

The show is a WFMU radio talkshow called "Seven Second Delay" hosted by Andy Breckman and Ken Freedman. Andy's the creator and executive producer of the Emmy-award winning show Monk, airing on the USA Network, and Ken is General Manager of WFMU, an independent radio station. They co-host Seven Second Delay, an hour-long
loosely-formatted radio show that broadcasts live from the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater in Chelsea and reaches about 30,000 listeners an episode. More information on the show is available here: http://sevenseconddelay.blogspot.com/.

Are you available? Interested? We also have a date in November we
could look into.

Am I interested? Am I available? Fuck yeah!!! Not only does it sound like a rad radio show with awesome hosts, but Wallace Shawn from the motherfucking movie The Princess Bride is going to be on. Missing that show would be inconceivable! (Which, I am embarrassed to admit, was more or less my reply. I am glad they still wanted me after I made that lame joke.)

This invitation perked me right up, and I've been feeling much better these past few days. I owe it all to Pamela. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Pamela!

As noted, the show is on Wed., Oct. 7 at 6 pm at the UCB Theater (307 W. 26th Street). It only costs $5 to see me share a stage with Wallace Shawn. Inconceivable, I know. The show also streams online or can be heard on the old fashioned radio at 91.1 FM in New York, at 90.1 FM in the Hudson Valley. I am major excited.

A Conversation with My Father*

I called my dad. "Did you get the paper yet?"

"Yes! There's a color picture of you on the fr-"

"I know!!!! It's horrible! I can't believe how bad it is!"

He sighed. "I think you are too hard on yourself."

"That's true, but seriously, this is a bad picture. My friend Suebob said that I look as if I had a terrible accident involving my neck." I cackled. "But now no one is going to want to hire me because they'll think I have a disability that they'll have to accommodate! I'm screwed."

"Well, I'll always love you."

"Thanks, Dad."

And that is the last I will say about this awful picture. It is almost ironic that I am obsessed with how I look in a picture attached to an article about how terrible it is that young girls have to struggle with body image.


*Big nod to Grace Paley, whose essay of the same title we read in lit class last year. My lit prof thought it didn't work, but I adore anything Paley wrote. If she wrote a limerick on the back of a cocktail napkin, I'd find it brilliant.

When Then is Better Than Now

When I first posted the link to the WSJ article, the photos had yet to be posted. I may have been an enormous nerd in 4th grade, but now I am a woman who needs a better hairstyle and more sleep. Damn. And my friend Sara checked my make-up and everything before I met the photog. ("You look sort of like Rachel Maddow," my other Sara friend said, trying to be positive. Dude, Rachel Maddow may be awesome, but I do not want to look like her.)

The good news is that the new story links to the 1986 original. Yep, those were the days.

23 Years Later, I'm Back in the WSJ

My, how things change and remain the same in 23 years. When Jeffrey Zaslow came to interview girls in my school in 1986, who knew he would go on to co-author the zillion copy seller The Last Lecture and then The Girls from Ames? Who knew that I'd go on to, uh, blogging and authoring non-best selling books about unusual things to see and do in New York City? (Hell, who knew that there'd be blogging?) Who knew that the pressure on girls to look thin would go from bad to worse?

A few weeks ago, I re-read the 1986 article about girls and dieting while I was working my thesis.* I thought, damn, everyone in the story is on Facebook. It would be so interesting to follow up on it. On a whim, I emailed Zaslow and suggested it. He agreed.

The follow up article is up at Wall Street Journal. (Although the article does not mention it, I cackled after I made my comment about models.) The online edition doesn't have pictures, so I'll be curious if the print version does.

*To be scanned and posted on CUSS.

The Non-Guide to the BlogHer Conference

It's that time of the year, when the BlogHer conference is just around the corner, and people freak out and worry obsessively: what to wear, what if no one wants to talk to me, etc. etc. It's also that time of the year when "experienced" BlogHer attendees write posts and guides to BlogHer to sooth newbie's fears. Here's my non-contribution to this literary tradition:

Forget all the soothing internet back-patting that's going on: you are right to freak out. It will probably be overwhelming. But it will also be fine, and you will be excited to come back again. And again. And again.

My first BlogHer conference was in San Jose in 2006. Before I went, I feared that I would wind up in a corner eating cheese by myself. (This is what happens to me at pretty much every conference I go to, so I didn't think that BlogHer would be different.) And that's almost exactly what happened, except I didn't eat cheese in the corner by myself. I ate cookies. Lots of cookies. I also spoke to some cool people, and I met my blog heroine, Suebob. Suebob even went out to dinner with me, off-site. I was sure after that she would never want to talk to me again, but not only did we keep in touch and hang out at subsequent conferences, I even visited her at her lovely home, and we shall be roommates at the conference this summer. See? It all worked out. (And what did I wear? I think I wore a different pro-choice t-shirt every day. I had a reason, but I can't remember it. I also wore jeans and some weird gym shoes that were supposed to help work out my legs.)

In 2007, my several friends joined me at the Chicago conference. Just knowing that Count Mockula, Alex Elliot, and Super Des were there, and thus I would not eat cheese (or cookies) by myself in a corner, made me more confident and relaxed. As I result, I talked to more people. This was good. (And what did I wear? I can't remember. Probably jeans and t-shirts. During the ice breaker, some idiot bitch asked me if I was a lesbian, and when I said no, she sneered at me and pointed to my CUSS logo shirt and said that I "project" lesbian. Whatver.)

The following year, Count Mockula had a baby (totally awesome) and didn't come to the conference in San Francisco. Des did not attend, either. Alex and I roomed together again, and I spent the entire conference hanging out in the bookstore, chatting various people up, except for the session I attended on not having children. Maybe I went to another session or two involving other things, and I attempted to attend one of the infamous swag parties, but fled the noise and crowds promptly. The important part is that I had oodles of fun, and I got to sign my book, which rocked. (And what did I wear? More t-shirts and jeans, although I gussied up a bit for the book signing and wore a silk-y shirt with jeans.)

Now we are back to my hometown this year. Alex can't attend, but I shall be rooming with Mar, a newbie, and the aforementioned goddess Suebob. I will attend parties and a session or two and hang out. I will eat unhealthy foods, possibly by myself, but more likely with others because I've done this before and I know more people. I will do another book signing (this time, during Friday's cocktail reception) and have lots of fun. Yay!
(And what will I wear? Yes, t-shirts and jeans...)

My Lecture Tonight on Urban Travel

Adult Education is a Brooklyn-based monthly event series where various speakers present brief, multimedia lectures on a shared theme. Tonight's theme is Urban Travel, and I will be sharing some of the "treasures" one can find by taking a subway roadtrip with the A train. The podium will be graced with three other esteemed speakers discussing subway map design, subway sketch art, and people who refuse to vacate seats specifically designated for people with disabilities when a person who has a visible disability enters the train. (Part of me has extra love for the last one because the blog URL is so long: www.peoplewhositinthedisabilityseatswhenimstandingonmycrutches.com.)

Time Out New York selected the lecture to highlight on their Own This City blog, so you know it will be good. Plus, it is only $5. Bargains like this are hard to come by!

I'll have copies of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track available for $15. (That's a whopping $1.95 off the cover price!)

Critical Info:
Union Hall
702 Union St (between Fifth and Sixth Ave)
Park Slope, Brooklyn
718-638-4400

Closest subway: M, R to Union St
For other directions: http://www.unionhallny.com

On the Radio, Part II

I think I have a voice for silent movies, but whatever - I was very excited to do my first live radio interview yesterday! In the event that anyone has a fleeting interest in foreclosure prevention and New York City, I think this is the link to the podcast. I come on halfway through the two hour program, and my colleague and I engage in conversation for 50 minutes.

When I entered the studio and saw the microphones and headsets, I thought I might throw up. My heart battered my rib cage. Fortunately, the host was an excellent facilitator with great questions, and my colleague was a pro at live shows. I quickly relaxed and had fun. I like radio better than TV (not that I've been on TV), as I did not have to worry about how my hair appeared.

Of course, the first person to call into the show was a raving lunatic conspiracy theorist type. Somehow, that struck me as appropriate. The rest of the show was great, and afterward, the host invited me to come back and talk about my book! Very exciting!

As Seen on TV

The phone rang at ten to midnight. When the answering machine picked up before I did, my mom's voice filled the living room.

"Nothing to worry about. But I was excited and wanted to tell you..."

I picked up the phone and cut her off. "Hi. What's up?"

"Oh, your dad and I were watching some weird channel on cable that plays home videos. The one on TV was of the hot dog eating contest, and we saw Scott [brother-in-law] and then we saw you!"

"That must be the South Street Seaport qualifying round in 2005," I laughed. I'm sure this was extra exciting to watch on their new-ish flat panel TV. I ate 6.5 hot dogs in 12 minutes, earning me the unofficial title of Best Female Eater in the South Street Seaport Qualifying Round. (The only other woman, a bailiff, could only choke down five hot dogs.) More impressive, I stood next to Eric "Badlands" Booker, a champion eater who sprayed me with bits of wet bun as he consumed his winning quantity of food. If it played in HD, I bet they would have seen that.

My mom told me that the voice over gave all of the non-famous eaters fake names. I was named as June, but I forgot the fake last name. I also forgot the name given to Scott, but he was described as "Blah Blah, a future shingles sufferer," which I found odd and creepy.

The funny thing is that this is not the first time I have been randomly spotted on TV eating hot dogs. The same summer I entered the South Street Seaport contest, I also ate at the West (East?) Hartford, CT qualifier. MTV used that event as part of their documentary, "Real Life: I'm a Competitive Eater." Since I stood near celebrity eater Tim "Eater X" Janus, I made it into the show.

I "retired" from competitive eating attempts that same summer. It seems that my method of eating, which I called the rabbit method because it involved constant nibbling down of food, was not only ineffective, but that the absolute elastic capacity of my stomach is 6.5 hot dogs. While I managed to consume Sno Caps after the Connecticut attempt, I did not do so well after the Seaport, and decided that it was not worth branching out into other foods. Since the party's over for me, it's nice to know that both of my attempts to break into competitive eating are well documented, even if not in my own name.

On the Radio

Thanks to a friend, a producer from WNYC, the NPR affiliate in New York, contacted me about doing a taped segment for Weekend Edition Saturday! I met him today on the L train, and we talked about the many cool things that there are to do in New York in August. As soon as it airs, I'll link to the podcast. I'm pretty much jumping up and down and squealing as I type this, but I promise I was (slightly) more articulate when we rode the train with a camp group from Williamsburg. It was fun! I hope I get more opportunities like this.

The Party's Over!

The release party for my first book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, was yesterday. I loved having people from various parts of my life at the event. There were friends from junior high, friends from high school, friends from college, friends from my public policy grad program, friends from my book club, friends from various former jobs, friends from my writing group, friends from the writing class I took this summer, friends of friends, family, and family of friends. (Whew!) I missed my friends from blogging who live around the country and could not make it. If only I could have set up a virtual book party, that would've rocked!

The party was a lot like a wedding: I didn't get to eat anything (for the most part), I didn't get to talk to everyone, and it was over in what felt like five minutes. I had a great time, and I think that everyone else did, too. I posted some pictures from the party at my flickr account. Now, the real work begins: promoting the book!

My mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, and bubbe came in for the party earlier last week. (Very regretfully, Granny didn't feel well enough to travel. Her presence was enormously missed.) Overall, it was an overwhelming and exhausting week of fun. My family departed this afternoon, which is always hard for me. I don't get to see them enough, especially my sister. I was a bit blue this afternoon now that it is all over. It's always for me after an event that I've looked forward to for a long time passes. I'll just have to keep extra busy this week.

In Which I Spazz Out

There is both a lot going on here and nothing at all going on here. That combination drives me up the wall, stresses me out, and makes me extra bitchy to my parents, who I yelled at on the phone last night for no reason. (Honestly, I do not know why they put up with my crabby insolence.) Of course I felt horrible about it the second I hung up (as I do every time this happens), but I had a sinus headache and didn't feel like calling them back to apologize. Instead, I sat around feeling like an asshole and wondering why I can't be nicer to my parents, which made my headache worse.

The problem is that my work life is very uneven. I've got nothing to do for stretches of time, and then I suddenly have tons of jobs that need to be done in a short time. For example, on Tuesday I had lunch with a friend/colleague, then got better fitting bras. Wednesday was spent freaking out while perusing various blogs about MFA acceptances, then attending a bris. I played a lot of fake Scrabble on Facebook on both days, and also applied for some part-time jobs.

Last night I got a frantic call around 9 pm from the woman organizing the program that I touch in about things I should bring to my class this morning. Why people can't get their shit together in a timely fashion is beyond me. My class today, as it was last week and the Thursday prior to that, is from 9 am - 12:30 pm, which is a loooooong time to talk about budgeting. I'll drop off my headshots and "resume" to the agency, finally. (Since it was not ready before, I've made no progress with my quest to be a dead body on Law & Order. Hopefully submitting my materials will change that.) Then I have a meeting at 4:30 pm to talk about another round of training. Tomorrow, I'm meeting a friend/colleague for lunch to discuss a new consulting project that I hope will not pan out because it sucks, and then running over to my consulting gig to finally wrap that shit up since people finally decided to comply with my requests for information.

Next week? Nada. I am very much looking forward to meeting Mar on Tuesday and showing her and her mum around the city a bit. So, long story short, I am stressed and spazzing out.

Oh, the Glamor

My plan to get work as a dead body on Law & Order was temporarily set aside last week when I got a consulting job and also began teaching a course at the city university. I finally picked up my headshots on Thursday afternoon. I've never liked looking at pictures of myself, so I actually dreaded getting them. At the photographer's studio, I was given an envelope with a CD-ROM of all 36 pictures, an 8x10 sheet with all 36 pictures printed on them, and an 8x10 headshot which was selected for me as the best. This is it. It's not bad, although it does crack me up that my right eyebrow is a bushy mess. I'm probably the only woman who walked into that studio without getting her eyebrows waxed or threaded first. Shapely eyebrows are an obsession here.

The next step in the process is to bring ten copies of my headshot to the agency with a copy of my "acting resume" stapled onto the back of each one. I worked on my "acting resume" on Monday during my Amtrak ride from Sacramento to Richmond. It consists of the agency contact information; my name; my contact information; my height, weight, eye color, hair color, and clothing sizes; a list of skills that I have (like ice skating); and my education. Not it does not include any experience section, as I have none. I like the fact that my skills might enable me to play an ice skater in the background of a movie before I work my way up to dead body.

I'll probably drop the CD off at a photo shop this afternoon and hopefully take the materials in to the agency on Friday. Then I'm back to sitting around and waiting for calls to work. Sort of like with my quest for regular jobs, but this time also based on my looks. Fantastic.

Working for a Living*

Since I quit my job in October 2006, I've been pretty busy with all the projects that I cobbled together. I consulted for several different agencies, including a big half year project for a city agency; I freelance wrote and my work appeared in several magazines; I sent out proposals for my book on unusual things to see and do in New York; and most importantly, I got a publishing contract for the book and finished writing it. These days, however, the work is drying up. I decided that I needed a consistent part-time job around which to anchor any new projects. (Plus, a part-time job would be good in the event that I am admitted to an MFA writing program in the fall...)

Last week, I had what seemed to be a fantastic interview. The salary sucked, but I liked the program enough to overlook it. I was feeling optimistic until yesterday at 5:00, when I received an abrupt email informing me that they are unable to offer me "a position at this time." As I left the interview, they told me they would call me back for a follow up with the agency poohbah, so I wonder what happened. I'm not gonna lie - I'm disappointed.

However, when one door closes, there's always a window to jump through in the event of a fire. Yesterday morning, I threw caution to the wind and gave in to the daily ad I saw on Craig's List for "PAID EXTRAS, TV & MOVIES, NO FEE, NO EXP, LICENSED AGENCY." I figured it was a crock of shit, but why not go to their open interview for kicks? I even gussied myself up with some make-up for it.

The whole "interview" took 42 seconds. A nice young woman called me into an office, asked me what I did ("I'm a public policy consultant," I told her. "Wow, that must be gratifying!" she replied. "Not really," I said cheerfully. "It's generally horribly frustrating."), then requested that I read a paragraph.

"Do you have acting experience?" she pleasantly asked me when I finished.

"Obviously not," I wanted to reply, but instead said, "Uhhhh... no."

"Well, that was very good," she said, and handed me a card. "Call this guy back tomorrow."

Long story medium, I called back before I began teaching a class on budgeting this morning, and was shocked that they asked me to come back with some headshots. My big hope here is that I can be cast as a dead body on one of the Law & Order series that are always taping around Manhattan. I'm practicing my "dead" look, just in case.

This is totally hilarious. I'm very curious to see what happens next, although I figure once my headshot is done (which I plan to use for my writing "career," too), there will be limited opportunities for a short, average weight, tired-looking Jewish hag. Still, the story I've gotten out of it so far is pretty good, so what's there to lose but my dignity and last remaining shreds of self-esteem?


*Sorry. I hope that you don't have the Huey Lewis and the New song stuck in your head now as I do.

Seeing Double

I know that I am tired and should be in bed, not fucking around googling myself and my book Off the Beaten (Subway) Track to see if anything new and exciting is out there, but I am fairly certain that when I found the book on Amazon.com in Germany, Canada, the UK, and France, it credits both sort of me, Susanne Reisman, and me, Suzanne Reisman, as the authors. However, I actually prefer that the book be credited to me and sort of me rather than just sort of me, as Amazon.com in the US and Japan do.

One day, I hope Susanne Reisman will go away. I don't like sharing credit with sort of me for all the hard work I did. (Do you ever feel like you've gone insane but clearly it's not you? This is like that.) In other news, there's actually an editor working on the book now, so perhaps this will be corrected. Plus, now that Husband won his football pool, anyone who comes to the book party (which for now I am planning to host on the first Saturday in August - mark your calendars) will be treated to onion rings!* How awesome is that?

*Assuming that I can book the place that I have in mind, which is a site in the book.

Dotting the T's and Crossing the I's

It's 50% official. Last night I signed a contract to write an eclectic guide to eclectic New York City for Cumberland House Publishing, a small extremely eclectic press in Nashville, TN. I'm dropping the contract off with my agent (a friend of mine) later today. Needless to say, I'm pretty gosh tootin' excited about the whole thing. Little old me is going to have a published book out sometime this spring!

Yep, I said this spring. My manuscript is due on Nov. 1, so I'll be bopping around the City for the rest of the summer (when I'm not trying to fix the City's publicly funded child care system or in Chicago, that is) and most of the fall. Quite a bit of the sites have been visited already, as I worked on the proposal and sought a publisher, but there are still numerous places to see. This afternoon, por ejemple, I'll be hitting up the National Museum of Catholic Art and History in East Harlem, as well as watching kids fish in Central Park, and hanging out with free roaming peacocks in the garden of the largest cathedral in the US that may also be the country's longest ongoing construction project.

Hopefully, CUSS readers will vicariously enjoy the journey. Good times ahead!

Abortion Documentaries and Glamorpusses

In early February, Sara and I were interviewed for a documentary about the abortion debate (or read Sara's better account of the event at Amusing Farf) as the co-leaders of Haven Coalition. Readying myself for the interview was a bit of a process, not in terms of what I would say, but more importantly, how I would look. I could not just stick a yellow Jelly Belly in my nose, and call it a day because I resemble Natalie Merchant (or Tom Sizemore). Nope, I had to go to Sara's before the interview so that she could smear all sorts of fancy make up products on my face so that I would not look like a baby eating zombie on camera. (It's not good for my side when I look like I might enjoy consuming human flesh.) Sara did a great job, and it all worked out until I opened my big fat mouth as we were leaving and said "controversial" things that I don't remember at this point, but I think it had something to do with calling anti-choice leaders propaganda spewing liars. (Me? Never!)

The upside of my free speech moment was that the producers wanted to interview me again outside of my role as a Haven leader, as I would never say "controversial" things while representing another organization. That day arrived this past Saturday. The producers called me in the morning and asked if I could come in at 2 pm.

"Sure," I said. "Remind me again what I had wanted to talk about?" (Seriously, I didn't remember.)

Bruce Isacson, the director of the documentary (aka "Jaffe" from Outbreak and friend of "Rene" as in "Russo") said that I wanted to tell the truth about the other side. OK, whatever. Because by then, a far scarier idea than getting killed by crazy anti-choice leaders crossed my mind: I had no make up, and Sara was out of town for the weekend. Emergency calls were made. No one was around and able to help. Fortunately, Future Sister-in-Law (FSIL), who was in NJ for a wedding, suggested that I hop on over to Sephora, a place I normally regard as an inner circle of hell, and ask for help. "I see people getting done up in there all the time," FSIL explained.

I ditty-bopped my unplucked eyebrowed face over there pronto. It turns out that you need to book an appointment in advance, but I explained that I was going to be interviewed for a documentary and didn't know until that morning, they took pity on me and hooked me up with a rep from a cosmetics company who did me up. The results: It was maybe a little too much make up, but not bad. Certainly better than looking like I use dead babies for my Passover matzah, but personally, I prefer the Jelly Belly in the nose look. Ultimately, I felt obligated to buy the shit she used on me, which I wish I was kidding when I say cost $190.74. (The foundation alone was $35!!!!! Damn, I save a lot of money by not wearing make up.) You know I'll be heading back to Sephora to return most of the useless crap this afternoon, but I digress…

Husband tagged along with me to the interview (I wanted him to stop me if I veered into nutjob territory), and he agreed that it went well. And that's the sad story of abortion documentaries and glamorpusses.

Mmmm... Delicious

Nothing tastier than a Jelly Belly booger.

Enjoy your Friday.

PS - Because I am a bad person sometimes, I used this picture for an online analysis of my puss to see what celebs I most resemble. Sadly, Natalie Merchant, Tori Amos, Raoul Bova (I have no idea who this is), Anita Mui, Julie Andrews, Diana Rigg, Alessandra Ambrosio (nope, not her either), and Tom Sizemore (!) all look like me with a yellow Jelly Belly in my nose. Ha ha ha. It hurts to laugh so much.

Harry Potter and the Magic of Cosmetics

Sara and I are being interviewed for a documentary on abortion tomorrow morning. It is being directed by someone who had a small role in the movie Outbreak, but I forgot who. Regardless, we are very excited.

As Sara arranged for the interview, she reminded me that we would be on film. I knew what that meant: I’d have to wear makeup. “You’ll need to wear makeup,” she said. Since I don’t want to give the forced childbirth movement any more fodder against us reproductive rights advocates by appearing to be a flesh eating zombie in a documentary, I readily agreed. My biggest problem is that I do not know how to put makeup on, so Sara is having me over early to help me. She is even letting me use her powder, as I own none and imagine that powder is the single most important product a person needs before being filmed for anything.

The point is, I thankfully will not look like Harry Potter, Anne Frank, nor a flesh eating zombie in my film debut thanks to the magic of makeup. Hopefully, I will have some good stories to share after our segment on life as baby-killing minions is complete.