SDRAWKCAB CYN

Henne met us for a bon voyage pastry at the hip bakery. They were making cinnamon rolls on a wooden island. I ate a puffy thing full of mustard and cheese, paired with the bright peach iced tea. It was all so incredibly delicious. Ironically, that morning, Henne had administered a shooter lockdown drill at his school. His job is to walk around and check all the locks and blinds. As though bullets don’t blast through both locks and blinds. I do theatre about school shootings, but actually every school does theatre about school shootings. The show is called “Yeah Right.” It's been running about twenty years.

At 3 am I was eating my nightly bag of kettle chips. I don’t usually have a nightly bag of kettle chips, but when there’s a bodega on the exact corner one emerges from the subway, what is one to do, besides buy a nightly bag of kettle chips. A curly little dog snoozes next to me as I crunch. For my final ride on the C I was with RB and her best art friend, a young director. She had gossip about the rich producer who did me so dirty two years ago. The three of us hope to make something this year. Everything takes so long, so even though we have so long, we’re not not behind. But it would be special, I know.

It was those two muffins, our tech guy, and the husband/wife producer/director combo who shut down the dive bar. I was falling asleep into my basket of jalapeño poppers and muttering about how Taylor Swift is gay. Shockingly, LS brought it up, because I programmed “Cruel Summer” on the jukebox. Puhg had left an hour or so earlier. SH—our mini star—and her partner went for pizza, Henne’s roost of pals seemed to enjoy the play. One said she doesn't have to worry about school shootings yet because her son is four, and I said, yeah but actually a kindergartener was just shot last week, and she didn't say anything more after that. (I'm fun.) Our photag was so kind and open-hearted, got all kind of snaps. He told me he usually works for politicians, which means getting them beyond the event, when they’re hobnobbing.

I was the last one at the theatre. Greeting and gabbing until the bitter end. Had to grab my bag from the greenroom when everyone had already mosied to the after party. I realized I hadn’t gotten a single photo by myself with the poster for the love. You think there’s going to be a method to madness as you level up in art, but no! It’s your Off-Broadway debut and your hair isn’t brushed and you hurriedly shove crackers and egg salad into your gob minutes before house opens. You’d wanted to stand on the sidewalk and get some glamor bits, but oh well the Broadway starlet and her husband were nearly first in and you had to buzz around welcoming and you see a girl from your college out of the corner of your eye. A former producer accidentally forgot to buy a ticket and you zip around Box Office checking on which comps you can slough over to him.

A debut is a little like a wedding in that a major funder is seated next to a boy you taught improv to at summer camp, and in front of them is a comedian you respect and behind them is your first magazine editor. The sidewalk was packed and it’s interesting that on both days the people who shoved themselves into your eyeline first were the very oldest white men who you did not know. It’s really embarrassing, for them. I see an iconic writer wait patiently to chat with me, but then he gets annoyed and walks off. The suicide-prevention men are very tall and wear suits. As I ran off the stage after the talkback I tripped incredibly dramatically and one caught me by the chest. There was an AUDIBLE gasp, so I chirped “You saved my life!” Par for the course for the guy, I suppose. As I flitted out, Puhg and SH’s angelic bf dashed to the stage to haul the cot up to the loft.

When RB arrived at call she was not okay. Six months since her brother passed away. Then we couldn’t find the photo of him that we kept on the desk. She said maybe he was saying he didn’t want to be in the show anymore. At the end of the night, the director told me, he was found in the very back row, watching the show. I’d gotten her a CONGRATS card that I never had time to fill out. LS handed me a brooch of balloons, “You are the balloons” the note said. Two balloons, pearls. So they matched the necklace I bought myself on the street in Chelsea. A clam, just like the one I pasted to my dream board last December, to symbolize all the work I’ve put into this play. I’d hoped in 2026 the clam shell would finally open.

In the morning Puhg and I had classic bagels—mine jalapeño cheddar with avocado and egg. We trotted around, ultimately heading to the funky forest island by The Whitney. We sat outside watching the leaves turn, seemingly right in front of our eyes from green to gold. Had acai bowls and talked about a lot of people we know and why they’re the way they are. It was so strange to spend the morning divorced from the project, but I still made the to-do lists: pick up the programs from Fed-Ex, set the water backstage, don't forget lip gloss this time.

In the afternoon I wanted to nap but there just wasn’t time. I rolled a black dress into my backpack but wore my skull crop top to my meeting with the theatre’s creative director. We talked about what is and isn’t possible in commercial art anymore. I’m just grateful for what I got, I told him. Some students have been emailing, asking to do scenes in their acting classes. That’s good, I tell him from under my new half moon sunglasses.

Summertime and the wind is blowing outside
in lower Chelsea and I don't know
what I'm doing in this city.
The sun is always in my eyes.
It crashes through the windows,
and I'm sleeping on the couch.
When I came to visit you
that's when I knew
that I could never have you
I knew that before you did,
still I'm the one who's stupid

And there's this burning
like there's always been.
I've never been so alone,

and I've never been so alive.

it was my mom's birthday

It was recently my mom's birthday, and I got her a nice dinner and a little pin. I've never really liked gifts very much. It's been difficult to explain that to my mom, because she loves gifts. So I do my best. I do want her to be happy, and I wish I spoke this language better.

I want to take a moment to say, I am so grateful for my mother. I admire how hard she tackles a goal. She has a great tenacity for life, or some little task. She looks around and notices people, and she tells little stories about them. Sometimes I don't like the stories she tells. Sometimes I do! She is suspicious, but she knows it. She doesn't like to give much away, but sometimes she'll really let loose. Like this time she agreed to do an improv workshop I was leading in Chicago, and she hopped right in with the little 20somethings at the jam. The music improv jam! It was honestly iconic. She slayed all her songs. One was about how expansive the universe is, she played a scientist.

There was this other time all the children in my elementary school were in the gym, waiting for our buses. Some folks were playing basketball to pass the time. Mom got the ball and sort of casually threw it over her shoulder RIGHT INTO THE NET! The place went nuts. The principal had just backhanded a dunk. My sister happened to be there, who knows why, but it was such perfect timing.

She always does the right thing too. Once in downtown Chicago she paid an ungodly amount for parking, and then the guy gave her too much change on the whatever $25 per hour scam, so she paid it back. I will be honest, I may have not have paid it back. But that's not her way. She must do the right thing. We got on a bus wrong in the Netherlands and the driver just waved her through like "ugh annoying American" but he didn't care we didn't pay a dollar or whatever. Mm mm for Alice, she was insistent she find a way to buy a ticket, and really it was more trouble for the driver than just letting it go. Later on that trip she was boarding a tour vehicle and accidentally sat directly on a muffin I brought, which makes me laugh so hard every single time I think about it.

There are sad memories too, but if you know anyone long enough of course there are. That's the nature of relationships. Mostly I love my mom with all my heart. I am so grateful for her. She is the most perfect mother I ever could have asked for, because she is mine.

I am so grateful for my whole family. My sister and dad and aunts and uncles and cousins and etc. extended family. I love each of them for the unique and wonderful people that they are. But this week it's my mom's birthday so she gets the spotlight.

The deeper aspect of Sr I admire, which stems from her doing the right thing is how persistent she'll be to do the right thing for others, when she is set on it. How she made the Muslim family welcome in our community. How she was a tough female Alderman, and union leader. She will persevere with goals. When she has her mind on something particular, she will pursue intensely.

Last year she had beef with someone because they made a complaint and used her as a shield, saying the complaint came from her. And while that's not fair, it is sort of an honor, I told her, that her reputation is someone who will always try to do the right thing. It’s not necessarily fun to be that person, but that person is incredibly necessary in society. No one likes to follow rules, but everyone likes having rules to bend. So we need to cut rule-lovers some slack. They are necessary.

She was and is a great educator. She has such a deep passion for schools and loves to tell tales of her time working with students. She came up with some very thoughtful ways of handling things. Certain details she'd figure out about how a student or parent or teacher acted. How she could help. Maybe a boy who needed to sit out of lunch to finish his homework or a teacher who had to be warned their lessons weren’t challenging enough.

She was severe though, make no mistake. Deeply religious. Reads her bible every single day. She wore smart suits and heels. The rule when she was principal--

And actually pause here to recognize how insane it was that my mom was not only my middle school principal, but we had the same name. Anyway, the rule was that for assemblies, she would walk slowly across the gym floor, by the time she got to the half court mark the study body had to be silent. It never didn't work. She ran a tight ship.

Sometimes she'd take me out of school for lunch in 4th and 5th grade at Baker's Square. I'd usually get dino tots. We'd go apple picking, as a family--or sometimes just us. We've been to Disney, as a family and just us. We've had many adventures. We like to zip around. We like to yap around, especially as a trio. We have so much fun. We really really do. She sings and dances, and we'll take any chance to do a little dinner and show. I just watched an amazing clip of us on a golf cart up a hill on Catalina. Five years ago! I can't believe it!

We watched the moon rise from our balcony. And wouldn't you know it--was a full moon last night too, leaving the Thai restaurant. A night of one thousand pumpkins. The fall air was nice and crisp. I held a hot apple cider, kept my hands warm.

I've always found it interesting my immediate family all had fall birthdays. A rampant season of celebration, Halloween included too. When my dad would take the screen off the front door and the basket came out. Had a CD of scary sounds out grandpa's window. Maybe we'd even get tired of Baker's Square and go to Jonathan's. There was split pea soup. Meanwhile, in spring, there was a chapter I wanted cheesecake for my day. And the stilts and the Barbie travel bag. 

For Mom's birthday this year she had a cookie and some butterscotch creme boulle. Katie had chocolate cake with raspberry icing. Mom sang two hits. Talk about dinner and a show.

company flat

The company flat was a special haven. A college dorm hall of our own. AZ at the front, gatekeeper for all logistics, like the hot water busting night one. Next me, so I could chipmunk over, any time day or night, asking about props or maybe spare tickets for a survivor, or possibly to gripe, or possibly to gossip. I'd never have guessed she was a little party animal, but that's the job. It was somewhat common, that I'd be in my room, coming down from a show or a night with the comedians or skittering about, eating my clamshell of fries and slurping water from my glass with croissants on it. And sometime between 2 and 3 AZ would sneak in, wined out. I'd lure her in, have her recount the evening's mischief.

Some mornings I'd be at the cafe with an iced latte and shortbread, writing at the window. Other mornings I'd pajama into the kitchen around 9:30, when RB usually started her tea. I'd cook up two eggs, drink a fizzing vitamin C capsule. RB would yap about whatever was on her mind, the boy in another show or her friends from home or her grief or her process. (Something we all respect about RB is how much of an ACTOR she is.) Sometimes I'd offer a nugget of advice, sometimes I'd just listen, sometimes I'd tell her something too. But I am partially closed with girls so much younger than me. I am there for them, not vice versa. What treasured sounds, the two of them blasting pop songs and doing lip trills moments before we would walk to the venue. Between noon and noon fifteen.

At rehearsal Thursday SH wears her costume ("for me" she explains). She tells me it felt wrong, to put it on without walking to my room for toothpaste. She realized before the second preview, her whitening paste sticks in her mouth, so she would come round every morning for a dab of mine. I loved my little bathroom set-up. I bought the most mid products Boots had, day two. My pink peony hand soap and my peach toner and my Addison Rae body mist. I came to, of course, adore my Addison Rae body mist. If I sniff it in a crowd one day I'm sure I'll be immediately thrust backstage of the musical shows, dousing myself before hitting the artist bar. The redhead drummer yells at me over the music and I laugh even though I struggle with his accent.

I made everyone dance to "Karma" at midnight when the best review came out. We sat in a circle on the couches before opening, the Seat watching us, as we shared one thing we admire/one thing we notice about everyone in our coven. It broke the curse. When no one was home one night I had so many feelings I sang karaoke in there all my myself. I cut dozens of cucumbers and mixed up a weird little caramel drink from Tesco and ate those square crackers and had several strawberry yogurts. Every day was longer and shorter than I could have guessed when I'd woken up, sun streaming in and seagulls making themselves known.

We rehearsed using the loveseat my flowers were good for a week or more the chocolate seahorses from the producers. It's hard. I'm completely back to reality and crashing at the same time.