Cat Whisperer

For Spencer:

Sina and Amelia: we found love in a hopeless place

When I tell the story of the whisperer, and I tell it often because it’s not something you can suppress, I first explain that we had no choice. My roommate and I are not ninny, crazy cat ladies. We were faced with an impossible situation that sadly happened because of love. Sina, my roommate, fell in love with an abandoned six year old cat he named Amelia. Her previous owner left Amelia at the vet: she couldn’t pay for her bill, so she told the vet to euthanize her.

We did some research about how to introduce Amelia to my cat, Francis (our cats are named Amelia and Francis. It’s as white as it gets), but nothing really prepared us for the fights. To watch your precious baby turn into a killer, shaking your roommate’s cat by the neck, was deeply traumatizing. Blood was drawn, and for a month Amelia lived sequestered in Sina’s room. That was when we heard about the whisperer, Wilbur Universe. That’s not his real name but it’s close enough. He has his own Animal Planet show. Were we going to be on TV? Before he came over, I cleaned the toilet and bathroom sink, even though Wilbur’s assistant specifically told us not to clean and alert the cats that something unusual was about to happen. Although cleaning alone is unusual.

I had been expecting Robert Redford the horse whisperer, but Wilbur is a different species. He is a cross between Mr. Clean and a heavily tattooed Cherry Poppin’ Daddy. He has two sleeves of cat tattoos. One arm has sweet, good cats on it. The other has snarling, bad kitties. He has facial hair groomed to resemble the genie in Aladdin. His ears are pierced with enormous hoop earrings. He should be called the cat genie. He also carried a guitar case adorned with a painting of a giant cat eye. Throughout our session I braced myself for a musical performance. If he was going to serenade the cats, I wasn’t going to be able to keep a straight face, and I was on my best behavior.

Tags: cat exercise, cat feeding, cat training, cat whisperers, cats, cesar millan, driving with cats, roommates

Life Saver

The brakes on my 2000 Beetle decided to stop working. Well, technically it was the ABS system, so I could still drive but without making abrupt stops. You can’t drive in LA without making abrupt stops. So I had to take the thing in to see my mechanic at Lube Masters. Yes, that’s what they’re called. An ex-boyfriend asked my mechanic if he was a master of lube and he laughed, so at least they have a sense of humor about their name. They don’t however have a waiting room that’s inside. In the summer it’s unbearably hot. In the winter it’s cold. My mechanic would need a week with the car, and it would cost $1500. In the meantime I would have to figure out how to live without the car. I called in all the favors the first week–borrowed the roomie’s car and hitched rides. Then I rented a car. I found the cheapest rental place possible–$26 a day. I hear there’s a mythical place that’s $15 a day, but I couldn’t find it. Rent 4 Savings was cheap enough. In fact I can’t even imagine what the $15 dollar place is like. First of all, when I called them to reserve a car, John answered the phone and the first thing he asked me was, “How did you get this number?” “Online,” I said. “Which website?” “Yours?!”

Tags: car repair, cars, intimacy, Los Angeles, mechanics, relationships, rental cars, strangers

Characters

As I submit myself for acting jobs online, I come across some gems. Most of these character descriptions have no context, and they’re written as if you’re familiar with the project. The descriptions for the roles requiring nudity always say a lot about the producer, writer or director. Others are just ridiculous.

“Must be able to puppeteer a bird puppet.” Lizard puppeteers need not apply.

“Nervous. Over thinking and frantic, you are the X-Cite who was taken for re-configuration, but rejected it. You are the one who changes 331 into a thinker.” That’s helpful.

“Smart, sexy, “POWER OF NOW” living stripper. Obsessed with bicycles and the downside of globalization. NO Nudity. Strong comedy a must!” Seems like a cool role actually.

“Below average looking.” Few other professions force you to identify as “below average looking.”

“We are looking for someone male or female who is educated on the actions of leeches and human feeding. If you are unafraid of leeches and/or may have them as your pet, we would love to hear from you.” The actions of leeches.

“20-35, any ethnicity, strong improv, need not know how to cook or bake. Your breasts will be featured in every shot. This is a comedy so you must be okay with that. No Nudity or semi-nudity what so ever!” Baking with breasts.

“Good with emotions: He will visit fear, confusion, anger and revenge in this piece. Must also be athletic, lot of physical scenes. He is an everyday working guy pursuing his dreams of the arts. He has now been thrown into the unbelievable.” I hate when I visit fear.

“She is the oldest of the strippers (late 20s -early 30s). Still hot as hell, knows all the tricks and could teach the other girls a thing or twenty. She’s a bit garishly dressed, even for a stripper. Her hair teased a bit too high and maybe went too far on the dye. Has a playful, sassy sense of humor, yet the regulars love her…..LEAD (Any ethnicity) THIS ROLE REQUIRES NUDITY- This includes topless nudity in a strip scene (from Zombies vs. Strippers).” Still hot at 30.

“VANILLA: 18-25 is black, packed and stacked (from Zombies vs. Strippers).” Enough said.

I’ll keep posting new breakdowns as I find them. To be continued…

Tags: Acting, Actors, Hollywood

Heathcliff

I’ve been trying to date online, so I’ve been whining a lot. My friends and family have had to endure long-winded speeches about the internet and the lack of actual human connection in modern life. The popularity of dating online also indicates the death of romance and adventure. Before trying online dating, I expected love to fall into my lap. That was my definition of romance. I’ve seen too many movies and read too many books: someone’s supposed to ask me to dance or almost run me over with their car. Every romance has a cute beginning, a good story, and the internet is not a good story. What do you tell your children? “Mommy and Daddy were lonely and socially awkward and they were tired of the bar scene, so they turned to their friend OkCupid.”

Opposites

Besides the mundane, officiousness of online dating, I also argue that the very concept, of finding someone via their virtual profile, is ridiculous. Actually meeting your potential mate in person is the most important part of the equation. I’ve been attached to and smitten with online profiles, but during the first minute of the date, I realized it was all an illusion. The spark (is there a less cliche word for it?) can’t be gauged online. Future generations will find a way to upload pheromones. I’m also positive I’m missing great guys because of the way I judge profiles. I look for people with similar interests, but perhaps someone different would be good for me? I’m also unforgiving about petty things that I might overlook if I’d met the guy. So if you list Labyrinth, Lord of the Rings or Happy Gilmore as your favorite movies, I’m not going to respond to your message unless you’re incredibly attractive and possibly listing those movies with a tinge of irony.

Tags: dating, love, ok cupid, online dating, romance, wuthering heights

Child’s Play

Some of you may not know that I was Chucky this Halloween. Now you do, and you need to know because I’ve decided it means something…I’m not sure what, but maybe we’ll get to that. I wasn’t Chucky because I’m a fan of Child’s Play or Bride of Chucky or the Chucky franchise. It’s just that when you have orange hair, your last minute costume choices are limited. The standards are boring: Madeline, Pippi Longstocking, Peter Pan, Little Red Riding Hood, Lucille Ball, Raggedy Ann. None of those options are very scary or very sexy, which are the two goals for Halloween, right?

Mostly Halloween is about sex. It makes sense that one of the last pagan bacchanlias in Western culture would be sex based. Of course, I was feeling too smart for the whole raunchy tradition. I’d read too many feminist complaints about the holiday. I didn’t want to be sexy cop, sexy nurse, sexy Darth Vader, sexy Watermelon. In the past I’ve slightly eschewed the sexy girl requirement by dressing as my favorite characters, but let’s be honest, dressing as Pris from Blade Runner wasn’t all about my love of the movie. Once I was drunk, I apparently described myself as, “just your basic pleasure model.” This year I would turn things on their head–I would be sexy, cool by being repulsive. Classic reverse psychology. Spin the famous red head dial and that leaves you with Carrot Top, Conan O’Brian or Chucky.

Tags: chucky, costumes, halloween, Los Angeles, parties, social anxiety

Unprofessional Interview: College

This is what I imagined the interview would look like. Which one's me?

I’ve always struggled with the interview process because I forget that we’re not just getting to know each other. Sometimes this hasn’t been completely my fault. When I interviewed for Sarah Lawrence (I wanted to go to all those girly east coast schools), they had an alumna meet me in San Francisco. I showed up at the bustling coffee shop she picked, and I found Helen, my interviewer, and her three-year-old son. He was usually crying or grabbing something off the table, so we spent most of the time talking to and looking at him. When I wasn’t trying to prove I was good with children, I answered her haphazard questions about school. Then I’d shout my answer again because it was so loud inside the cafe.

Some how my family came up. I explained my three family situation. I was raised by a stepfather who is my father in every way except for biologically. She seemed amazed, puzzled. Most people don’t bat an eye. Divorce has bred a multitude of unusual family situations. But Helen was really good at honing in on the important part. “So your father, he’s gone.”

“That’s true.” I said. I was working hard to project well-adjusted calm, hoping maybe this “disadvantaged childhood” would help me get in.

Helen nodded as if she saw through my little act, and as she blew her son’s snotty nose, she said, “That’s like that song.”

“That song?”

“God, Mark would know the name.” By Mark I think she meant her husband. “My daddy gave me a name. Then he walked away.” She started singing “Father of Mine” by Everclear. Even though I was incredibly nervous and inclined to let her do whatever the hell she wanted, I knew she wasn’t handling this very professionally. Was she mocking my pain?

After she grilled me on my family history, we took a walk to the park up the street so her brat could run around. She told me how incredibly creative her son was. He was in the sandbox, eating sand. I said he seemed like a very bright little boy. She nodded, “What’s your essay about?”

“My grandparents.” I paused. My essay was about their death and my grief. Was I really going to have to tell her about another loss? I gave up and told her. She gave me a long hug, there on the park bench, and I felt like I’d somehow prostituted myself. Since this was the second hour of the interview, I figured I could finally mention how I needed to meet my mother. She seemed sad to see me go, and Helen promised to send positive remarks to Sarah Lawrence. I was waitlisted.

Tags: colleg, college essay, college interviews, interviews, sarah lawrence

Running for Burgers

In-N-Out Rewards Young Readers

I would marry In-N-Out if I could. Since I can’t, I will consider following it on twitter. I already have their number in my phone. You can call them and they’ll give you directions to the closest In-N-Out. I once ran a race for a number 2 animal style. In college I was on the very intramural cross country team, and I didn’t want to compete because I was terrible, but there was an In-N-Out near the race. So I ran for burgers, but oddly, this didn’t make me faster. At the end of the race they had to announce, “We still have one runner on the field.” That runner was me.

Having been raised by people who grow vegetables, consuming fast food fills me with pleasure and then extreme guilt. I’m sure this isn’t an uncommon feeling, but I understand that children of hippies often experience extreme food rebellion/regression. Denied as a child, I still hunger for Lunchables and Gushers. We also didn’t have In-N-Out in Santa Cruz (there were months of protests when McDonalds moved in), so it’s always seemed like a treat, a celebration. Of course, I’m beginning to realize it’s also an addiction.

Tags: addictions, cheeseburgers, fast food, fries, in-n-out, Los Angeles, milkshakes, Santa Cruz

Bra Shopping with My Mother

"Roger that. She wants that one."

I became a woman, so to speak, at age ten, and I felt like an alien species. No one else was going through that particular misery yet. Naturally, I tried to hide the fact that I was an alien. Back then, buying a bra was like a covert operation. I would breeze through the lingerie department, pretending to look for my mother, then quickly nod towards the bra I wanted. My mother, who was actually behind me, would then pick up the bra and head nonchalantly to the register.

In junior high, when other girls were finally going through puberty, I let my mother take me bra shopping out in the open. We had just been hiking, so I was sweaty and adorned in my usual sports bra (I wore them constantly because they tended to tamp things down). She took me to Gap Body, which I think she picked because it seemed like a more neutral/less sexualized store than say Victoria’s Secret. It was also where she shopped. We didn’t know what size I was, so a saleswoman with a measuring tape sequestered me in the dressing room. I remember my mother watching too, as the woman measured my breasts. I was humiliated to say the least, especially since I was sweating and wearing a gray, ratty sports bra.

Twelve years later, I was visiting my parents, and mom and I decided to do the traditional shop. I needed bras. I was worried that I might still be wearing some of the same bras we bought that day, when I was thirteen. We went to Gap Body. I wondered if my breasts still were the same size. Sometimes they can change on you. I have friends who have thought they were A-cups and suddenly learned they are Ds, which is like thinking you’re 5’4″ and finding out you’re really 6′.

I tried a couple bras on by myself as my mom shopped. The As were a little tight and the Bs were too big. I approached a saleswoman named Brandy.

Tags: body issues, bra sizes, bras, mothers and daughters, puberty, shopping