Defeating the purpose

I recently made a trip to a sports outlet to pick up a ski mask for a football game. This is a rather large store that caters to people that are fit, work out and play sports. Skiers, gym rats, bikers...people that work out. You can smell the fitness in the air when you go inside the store. But before you go inside, you have to park.


As I pull into the parking lot I noticed a line of handicap spots along my right side. About 9 to be exact. The last handicap spot at the sports store was all the way in the back of the lot.

Am I missing something here? Isn't the point of the handicap spots to get those that are disabled as close to the entrance as humanely possible? Don't people park in these spots that aren't handicap because they are too lazy to walk from a spot designated for them?

Furthermore, it's a sports shop. Tell me why you need 9 handicap parking spots which count for almost a third of the spots there!

And no, no one was parked in any of these spots. During the holiday season when you're not necessarily shopping for yourself, no one was parked in these spots.

My guess is, because if there were any handicap shoppers there, they would be better off parking in a spot that isn't designated for anyone. Because those spots are a hell of a lot closer to the door.

If you insist on having 9 parking spots for those that are handicapped, why not make the first couple of spots in each row for these people? What happens if the first 5 or 6 are taken and the rest of the parking lot is full? So someone in a wheelchair has to park practically on the highway?

I don't know who thought of this parking lot or who approved it or which person is the bigger moron. All I know is if I was in a wheelchair and had to park in the bushes because the parking lot was jammed with holiday shoppers and jocks buying for themselves, I would kick some serious ass when I got there.

The Happy Waitress: McDonald's is across the street

So, last night I had a table of college kids that were clearly under 21. They didn't really fit the "mold" of the type of customers that come into where I work but whatever...there were four friends, three guys and a chick. I swear this wrote itself...

I introduce myself to the table and take their drink order...I was expecting 4 waters and was surprised to only hear 1 water and 3 cokes. Cool. Maybe I misjudged them when they walked in the door (has never happened and still hasn't...just wait)

I bring over their drinks and ask if they are ready to order or need a few minutes. Upon asking them this, I see a pile of cash (mostly singles and fives) and on top of that pile, coins. I do not work in a strip club and this is not a pretty site. Their response to me is: "Um...can you give us a few minutes while we work out the cash situation?"

Seriously? If you can't afford to go out and you're counting your pennies, get your shit together before you leave the house. I understand being broke but I would never show up to a restaurant and count my money including coins (who even carries coins anymore) in front of the waitress. Get the hell out of here with that.

I give them around 5 minutes to figure it out. It's not a terribly expensive menu and there are plenty of options. When I come back they state that they still aren't ready.

5 more minutes go by.

When I come back they point to a platter on the menu and ask me what that would cost, plus the drinks, plus tax. To which I say "plus tip". Yeah that's right. I said it. Why? Because I wasn't going to get a tip anyway so I'm not in any real danger. And, shit like this should never be tolerated. The customer is not right in this case and frankly, this is why there should be a "waiting tables" course taught before you are allowed to graduate high school. No one ever uses gym, but that course, they would use.

Anyway, I go to the computer and type in their request, void it out and come back to the table with their number. To which they laugh about how they cannot afford that (the number was under $50 between four people just FYI).

7 minutes go by.

I come back and they've decided they can afford it. Fine. Order in. Food out. Anyone need a refill?

You can guess what comes next right? "Are they free?"

Refills done, everything's done...and they want the check. Here ya go.

I give them plenty of time to count out the pennies...come back and they push the pile of cash across the table and say that it's for the bill, and could I put my tip on their credit card?

No, I cannot. The computers don't work like that, but if you tell me how much you want on the card then I'll keep the leftover cash as my tip.

They say "$10".

Whoa! I was wrong? You're going to leave me $10 on a $44 bill? Sweet.

They then tell me that they have waited tables before so they feel really bad.

(dangerous statement to make if you cannot back it up by the way)...

I take the credit card. Swipe. Declined. Swipe again...this is for $10 remember...and declined. Again.

I go back to the table and inform them of this which they say "I knew it.." I give them a few minutes to figure it out, guard the door and then go back to the table. They express how embarassed they are but because they've been in my position before two of them are going to stay and the other two are going to get more money.

A full hour goes by before two of them come back. I don't even go over to the table. I'm done.

End result? $4 on a $44 bill.

OH wait. So...I was right...again?

Always am, always will be. I know it when you walk in the door.

Next time either order something cheaper because you know you've "been in my position before" and "feel awful" or go to McDonald's. All you did was cost me money as your tip goes directly to the hostess and the bartender for tipout. Thanks for nothing and do not come back.

Happy Waitress: Close Your Mouth

Welcome to another installment of "The Happy Waitress"...inspired by how bad manners really can get beyond the bad tipping/no tipping at all.

I recently had a table, two women, who were clearly ready to save a lot of money as when I went over to their table I couldn't even introduce myself before they barked at me "wings are 25 cents tonight, right?!"

I corrected her stating that they were "50 cents each and not 25". To which she, of course, then said that she called ahead of time and was told otherwise. You know what, who the hell calls up and asks how many quarters wings are? Really? I can't wait to see what kind of a tip you'll be oh-so generous to leave. Anyway, that's not what this blog is about.

After clearing up the whole 50 cents versus 25 cents debate I ask if they would like blue cheese, ranch or celery and (here comes the surprise) they ask if it's extra. Of course it's extra but whatever. So they only want one each. Super.

Order in, order out, food on the table and I ask "are you guys all set...is there anything you need right now?" Answer: "No". Mk.

3 minutes later I come back to check in with them and I guess they felt that I was going to run away from the table because they felt the need to tell me they needed more blue cheese. WITH A MOUTH FULL OF BLUE CHEESE AND WINGS.

DIS-FUCKING-GUSTING!!!!

Are you kidding me? I don't need to see you chew up a dead bird with wing sauce and blue cheese...especially in your mouth full of jacked up teeth. And you know what? If I wanted to give you another blue cheese for free, I technically could, but now? Absolutely not. Chew your fucking food and fucking swallow it. I. Can. Wait. There is no need to show me how you chew. I'm not interested. No wonder you're not here on a date. Ew. Vomit. Puke.

I turned my head down because I seriously thought I was going to hurl, and headed back to the kitchen to pick up another blue cheese.

That's another 69 cents please. Next time shut your mouth and I'll hook you up.

Foul. Just foul.

It's Connecticut, not Texas

This week I crossed off another place that I will not travel to unless there is a car getting me there and taking me back. Oh, and it has to be paid for. If you're wondering where the other places are, here: Philadelphia (I'm convincing nothing good comes out of there/happens there...ever) and Westchester (no comment even necessary).

Now moving to the top of the list: Connecticut.

I had a photoshoot scheduled this past Monday. I responded to a casting that was for NYC models for a shoot to take place in NYC. In case you're wondering, NYC is in NY and not Connecticut. I know, confusing.

The photographer gets back to me last minute that he would like to hire me, but he needs me to travel to Connecticut (I'm going to start naming this "CT" because typing the name of this state is more annoying then actually traveling there) because he has a meeting that night and can't make it to NYC and back in time.

Fine. He's in New Haven which is straight up Route 95 so great, and super easy. I can get up there, shoot and get back in time for rehearsal.

So I leave at 6:30am est (NYC and CT are in the same time zone) to make it for a 9:30am shoot, which is an hour extra just because I'm worried about traffic. I get into NY state and see the following on a large blinking neon sign:

"EXITS 19-21 IN FAIRFIELD, CT CLOSED DUE TO ACCIDENT. PLAN ALTERNATE ROUTE".

Guess who doesn't live in CT and has no idea what alternate route would be smart? Hi, that's me. No problem, I think that maybe by the time I get through NY and into CT the accident will be gone. Of course, my hopes are dashed when I see the same sign by the time I cross into CT and reach exit 5.

So, now 8am, I call the photographer, alert him of the situation and ask him what he suggests for an alternate route being that the accident is only 20 miles south of his studio.

Answer: I don't know. I don't drive in that area.

Interesting...because this is how you would get to NYC, which is where the casting originally was. Oh, and if someone was travelling to me and were 20 miles away in ANY direction, I could give them an alternate route. But that's me and I have a brain. Oh, and we're not in Texas, we're in Connecticut. I'm one or two counties away and this moron can't tell me where I should go?

He then tells me that I should have a GPS. Super. How about you airlift one to me. Oh wait, you don't know where I am jackass.

This is where I should've turned around (especially when he told me that he hadn't even HEARD about an accident 20 miles from his studio) but because I'm a reliable professional model, I pressed on and called my best friend. I said "I'll give you 20 bucks if you can tell me where I am." She can't guess, I inform her and what do I hear from my best friend who is at work in New Jersey?

"WHAT?! You can't go to CT!!! There is a huge fuel spill and 95 is closed."

Weird how while in NJ, she knew that, yet the fabulous CT photographer had no idea what I was talking about because he thinks his state is the size of the entire country!!!!!

At 9:00 I hit the wall. Car in park. Can't roll down the windows because it's 80 fucking degrees out and there are bees flying into my car (Hi, I'm allergic) and my phone rings. It's fabulous CT photographer asking me my status.

I explain to him where I am and I get a reaction that sounds like he just smoked about 4,579 trees... "Oh...wowzers."

Wowzers?! Fucking wowzers? Really asshole?

I inform him that next exit I get to, I'm turning around and going home because I need to be in Jersey, on stage at 2pm. He's basically like "OK whatever".

I get to the next exit around 10:30am est. I turn around and go home.

I spent over 6 hours in the car that day to take a tour of NJ, NY and part of CT. I still cannot wrap my head around the fact that this genius couldn't 1. express any sympathy or 2. give me directions from where I was when I was only 20 miles south of his studio.

CT, you're officially off the list. Suck on that.

Happy Waitress: Closing Time...

The picture may be fuzzy but the message to the women in black was clear: we are closed. See all of those chairs that are sitting upsidedown on tables? It's not a fancy new decoration and we aren't trying to invent a new way to sit...we're trying to tell you that those hours on the door aren't just numbers for fun.

The two ladies you see before you entered the restaurant while looking at the hours that were on the door...perhaps they thought we were using Central or Pacific time, but we weren't. We use Eastern time and they entered an empty restaurant 13 minutes before our closing time.

After being served dinner, we found out, those were just the appetizers and that they wanted more. Awesome, because now we're 2 minutes from closing which means that the kitchen is still open.

And once those two minutes are up, and their food is rushed to the tables, the chairs go up, the televisions go off, the signs go off, and we all sit there and count our money and wait.

And wait.

And....wait.

15-20 minutes after "closing time"...you know, those hours that are printed directly onto the glass front doors....the ladies clad in black sit surrounded by wooden chairs and angry chicas who just want to go home.

I would never, ever, want food from a kitchen that was just about closed. I also will not eat in an empty restaurant. That's icky. But these two didn't seem to mind and they aren't alone as this happens all the time.

I can see if there's a major game on. There wasn't. I can see if the restaurant is packed. It wasn't. I can see if the weather doesn't suck completely. It did.

But come on. You know that we were closing, you came in anyway, and then you ordered apps and dinner...and then you see that no one can leave because you're still here.

You must be in the fabulous group of "I've never waited tables before".

But that's OK. Sit there. Enjoy your food. Alone.

And please enjoy the atmosphere of lights off, no music and chairs surrounding you.

Artistic License

Theatre is very interesting. Full of opinions, ideas, conversations...and artistic license.

I recently auditioned for a production of "Joseph" and found out last night that I was not cast. Not a big deal, as much as I would love to do the show (and be paid to do it) it will come around again and this theatre is almost two hours away from my house.

And this particular theatre is full of artistic license, that I can't wrap my head around.

They say that you can't get upset when you don't get cast becuase you never know what they are looking for. I whole heartedly believe that because there are roles I've been asked to audition for that I was convinced I was wrong for, and there are roles I didn't get that I was convinced I was perfect for.

Then there are the roles you don't get because they were pre-cast. I'm all for pre-casting, especially if you have the perfect people. For some shows, I'd even recommend it.

However, if the director or staff wants to go against the norm (really push the envelope in my opinion) then that needs to be made clear from the jump.

The only role I am interested in for "Joseph" is the narrator. In the room I was in, every single female said the same exact thing. I came to find out that the role of the narrator was going to be given to a guy.

So...is Joseph going to be played by a girl? Are we renaming the show "Josephine and her technicolor lingerie...?" I think that's a smaller leap than making the narrator a male.

Furthermore, the only featured female role in the entire show is the narrator.

There was no mention of this before the audition, at the audition, nothing. So no female there knew they were auditioning for a role that they weren't even going to be considered for.

I'm all for artistic license and being creative, but when you take for granted the time people take to audition for a show then you are wrong.

To add to this, the director that was putting together this show has since removed himself from this show. They cast the show (according to the email I received last night) after a sit down session with the former director, current musical director and choreographer. So they had a "pow-wow" and cast the show based on...I have no idea.

This is the biggest clusterfuck I've ever auditioned for. I cannot understand how you can take artistic license like this and keep it a secret. Newsflash to this theatre: there were ten women that I came in contact with that only wanted to be considered for the narrator, not including myself. It would have been awesome if you mentioned that the role isn't even up for grabs.

Oh, and if you could pay for my gas and time that I lost that day for absolutely nothing, I'd appreciate it.

Stupid questions you've asked a waitress

Since Jess has told me I'm slacking on my Happy Waitress Blog (she's right) I'm here to blog...lucky you :P

The Happy Waitress- Stupid Things You've Asked....

At almost every restaurant I've been in I have been seated by a host or hostess. They put me at a table, I sit there, order, eat, leave (a tip) and that's it. Unless there is a screaming child next to me or someone simply too obnoxious to sit next too (I'm all for drinking, but if I catch you making an ass of yourself on a Monday at 1pm, I'll video it and put it on youtube), then I will ask to move. But other than that, where you put me, I'm staying.

And so should you. Why? Because there are sections in a restaurant and when you ask to move or even worse, get your ass up and move yourself (and then bitch that no one has come over....newsflash, we didn't know you moved, we're not psychics) you are taking away a table from the waitress who had that section (most likely).

Stupid question number 1:

"Can I sit over there?" *points to table 40 miles away from where they were sat*

I've been asked numerous times before if refills were free. This questions sends pangs of "OMG if you can't afford a $2 drink, you are probably going to leave me less than that as a tip". Last night, that question was topped by a table of "so cool teenagers (the type of guys I went to highschool with that are now either in jail or still living at home not making money) that ordered two sodas...there were five of them. When I asked the others what they would like I received a resounding "naw- I'm good yo." Your parents should be proud. To top it off, they each ordered the special (no surprise there) and one asked "does it come with a drink". I examined my uniform, saw that it didn't say "McDonald's" on it and replied that no, it does not come with drink or toy as we are not a fast food restaurant.

Stupid question number 2:

"Does this meal come with a drink?"

NJ State Law says that you have to have an ID proving your age while drinking at a bar/restaurant. Our restaurant has a sign that is four feet tall (seriously) that explains this. We therefore card everyone. Every-one. I get carded when I drink there off my shift.

What I super-duper appreciate is the one-liners/jokes/almost witty but not really remarks that people choose to make because I have the nerve to card them. Dear "I don't know the law and chose to ignore the four foot tall sign by the front door and think I'm cute anyway" person: The longer you keep me at your table busting my chops, the longer I'm away from other tables. The longer I'm away from other tables, the faster my tip goes does. So when I'm not back at your table lickity-split, please remember that it's probably because someone thought they were just as cute as you and they are giving me a hard time about me carding them.

Here's a thought, when you're asked for your id, show it. Don't give the waitress a look like she just asked for a kidney...especially when she handles your food.

Stupid Question Number 3:

"Why do I have to show you my ID?"

Tipping is very interesting and many people think that less than 10% is appropriate, event when they get the best service. I've been to other places, and trust me, my service is better than most. Plus, the restaurant I work at, you're staring at my tits and ass, and getting food that you could get anywhere else, or even at a diner. But let's face it, you're there to look at the waitresses, not because the food is five stars. So how about showing it at the end of the night?

A $50 bill does not mean a $3 tip. No, it doesn't. It means $6-$10. Yes, yes it does. Why? Because we have to tip out....but this question isn't about tipping. It's about what happens when you don't, and you get your food wrapped...and you leave it there as everyone often does.

If you leave less than 10%, get your food wrapped and then forget it...and then remember it, and then come running back in for it 3 minutes later, the dumbest question you could possibly ask is:

"Is my food still on the table?"

Answer: No, I threw it out. Next time don't be so cheap.

This concludes my Happy Waitress section on "Stupid Questions".

xoxoxo

me

Vote For Me!!

OK guys...I'm in a contest for WRAT, which is a radio station down the shore in Jersey. They are having ONE girl be a spokesmodel for the year, which means interviews, radio spots, the possibilities are endless.

You know, I know, everyone should know, there is no other person for this job. I've worked for this company before on their show and I hosted the Men's Expo for them/lingerie runway show back in January.

It sucks that it's online voting (because I don't have 10 million myspace fans) but I do know a lot of you read this blog...so I'm going to use that to my advantage.

Round one is 32 girls which then gets down to 16...which will result in more online voting (super). I really need your help because I'm guessing a lot of these chicas have a lot of time to spend on MySpace and I don't.

Please vote and tell your friends to vote. I'll love your forever. Don't let some diva bitch win this- Vote for Daniela!!!

MUAH!

http://www.wrat.com/Default.aspx?tabid=993

Cougars should be HOT

Cougars seem to be the new "trend" in Hollywood...by "new" I mean over the past 6 months or so. I personally cannot relate because I've always felt comfortable being with a man older than me (my better half being 21 years old than me) and I couldn't image dating younger let alone 20 plus years younger. That said, it's my personal preference and I get that everyone feels differently.

However, if you're going to do a show and name it "Cougartown", please, please, cast someone believable as a Cougar.

Cougar, to me, is a woman with charisma, that is just dripping with sex appeal. You can probably guess her age when you look at her, but it doesn't matter because she's uber-hot. Her body is in shape, and when she looks at you, you just want to sleep with her. If cougars were male, I would think of people like Harrison Ford and Richard Gere.

But they are not, because cougars are female. So, if I was going to cast a show, my cougar pick would come from a list including actresses such as:

Catherine Zeta-Jones, Michelle Pfeiffer, Pamela Anderson, Denise Richards, Jennifer Connelly, even Susan Lucci would be fine.

But Courtney Cox? There is nothing sexy about this woman. At best, she's "cute". She's lanky, skinny, and has no curves whatsoever. Where are her boobs?? Where are they?

I cannot understand why Hollywood would pick her to star in this show.

I've watched some of the promos and it seems to be full of "humor" and not exactly full of sex. Perhaps I missed the memo where a cougar is something you laugh with/at, but then again, it's going to be on ABC. Now, if it was on HBO, or Showtime where it belongs, then perhaps they could have cast one of the women I was thinking of.

All I know is, if I was a 21 year old boy, looking to bone an older woman, she would not be my choice.

Rawr.

Acceptance Speechs

Acceptance speeches are a funny thing. Having never made one (I know, I find it shocking as well), I don't know first hand the pressure that comes with standing on a podium while everyone watches *cough* judges *cough* every syllable that comes out of your mouth. While I too will have knee-jerk reactions to things that are said, done, I quickly remind myself that I'm not up there, I'm not that person, I'm not in their shoes, and it's their speech to do with it what they will.

I'm standing way alone on this apparently, but I often do on most topics which either makes me interesting or gets me into trouble. I don't usually blog about my personal personal life, except for my "Happy Waitress" segments, but this has got me sighing and rolling my eyes and if I don't blog about it, my head might explode...and I just got my hair cut so that would be a waste.

My better half recently won an award because he's a phenomenal piano player. Bottom line. That's it. He had no idea he was going to win and thus, he never wrote a speech. We joked about what he would say, and even thought about pulling a "Kanye" stunt because it would've been funny. But nothing was set in stone and he was convinced, though nominated twice that he wouldn't be winning.

When the winner was announced, it wasn't his name, which was fine by him because he didn't want to get up on that podium. I was bummed but what can you do. After the first acceptance speech (which neither of us really listened to) there was some hub-bub at the microphone about how it was a tie, a three-way tie. I heard this, and my better half didn't, so I had to quiet everyone down at the table which was done just in time, to hear his name be announced.

At this moment he had absolutely no idea what was going on and I had to tell him that he just won...adding more confusion because we just heard who won. So he went up to the microphone completely confused...and then made his speech.

In this speech he did a lot of thanking, of me. No, he didn't thank the cast, or pretty much anyone involved. Which is all anyone can seem to talk about.

Now, I've been snubbed in an acceptance speech before and yes, it sucks. However, again, I've never made one of these speeches and I don't know the pressure that comes with it. Adding to that, being announced as the winner when you just heard who the winner was, I would be super confused as he was. Plus, there was no speech and no plan and nothing written.

But all people can think about is "he didn't thank me".

He's never going to defend himself past "I had no idea what was going on" and frankly, if that's not enough for these people, then all I can say is...

Shut the fuck up.

You weren't up there, you don't know, you weren't in his head. You haven't been in his head for the past three years and as much as people care to think they "know" him, you have no idea.

I get being snubbed hurts. But if the people who feel they were snubbed can think nothing past their own feelings, then maybe they should remember that the next time they are up on that stage, out of nowhere, without a speech, in front of everyone....

....if it ever happens.

(photo courtesy of Alicia and Joe...I can't remember who took that....)

Dear Kanye

You're a worthless piece of garbage.

Love and Kisses,

Danielle

The Happy Waitress

I've decided that a part of this blog needs to get offtrack and be named "The Happy Waitress"....because as many of you know, that's what I do to keep my bank account afloat.


Today I had breakfast with my better half and we were discussing a class that should be mandatory before you are able to graduate high school: waiting tables. You should absolutely have to pass this, and screw having to pass gym because that is absolutely useless later in life...this course would be fantastic because if you're not learning how to behave in a restaurant from your parents, you can learn it in school and not be a fucking clusterass when you go out with your friends that think ordering water and fries is AOK and then tipping a dollar because you're all broke.

There are so many things that waiters have to deal with that cannot be explained. Every single shift I have some story about some ridiculous customer who probably thinks their behavior is fine and doesn't realize that a 10% tip is something that they can just keep because I'm not interested and obviously they need it more than I do.

Some people don't understand how stupid it sounds to ask if refills are free. Really? You don't have an extra $2? Great, that makes me feel wonderful about how much you're going to leave me at the end of the bill when you don't even have that money to quench your thirst.

Some people don't understand that when you sit there and deliberate your order in front of the waiter, you are keeping he/she away from other tables who probably did the exact same thing you are doing...and then when they do that and he/she doesn't get back to your table in time, you will reflect that in his/her tip when really it was your fault to begin with. When we ask "are you ready or do you need a couple of minutes?", there are two answer: yes, here's what we want or no, please come back...not, wait here while we discuss the menu in front of you because you obviously have nothing better to do like get back to your other tables who are deducting dollars from your tip because they think you are ignoring them. See?

All this and more coming in weekly editions (more if people are really retarded) of "The Happy Waitress".

Make sure you read them until there are mandatory classes that you have to take. I'm sure you all are doing something you think is normal when really, it's not and you should change. Yeah. That. Thanks.

Hanging yourself after you strangle someone...

So this guy is...worth 2.5 million (networth is bullshit because if that holds any merit then I live with a millionaire. Please.)

Anyway....he gets on Megan Wants a Millionaire...apparently he got kicked off but no one will ever see that. Why? Because the show was cancelled because he reported his wife (that he married after knowing her for 4 days after meeting her in the same strip club Megan worked at) missing, and then she turned up dead, naked, strangled and in a suitcase in a dumpster...then he fled to Canada...

Oh and he recently hung himself.

So the first thing I thought of (after WTF DID YOU CANCEL MY FAVORITE SHOW FOR VH1?!?!?) was...he strangled her and he hung himself.

Strangling someone takes a great deal of passion. It's exactly that: a crime of passion...snapping off someone's air, watching them die in your hands...gripping their throat. So I did a google search "strangling versus hanging"..and I came up with a ton of men who strangled their women and then hung themselves.

First off, hanging yourself can go wrong. And that can be painful. Why anyone would go that route I have no idea, but then again, I have no desire to take my own life.

Here's my thing...what's the correlation between hanging yourself after strangling someone. It can't be as simple as cutting off the air in your neck. There are like a billion ways to murder someone (you saw Saw 1, 2, 3 and 5 million right?) and I'm sure just as many to kill yourself...there has to be a parallel. So I'm curious...

What is it? What in the brain makes you strangle someone and then hang yourself? Why those two together? What is it?

Makes you think.

The Devil is in the Email....details

This picture is me, with my better half...aka the best piano player I know...and easily the best accompianist alive. Tike Bar time :)


As most of you know, I spend a good amount of time acting, mostly in theatre. Which means I spend even more time preparing for my auditions, auditioning, and then waiting by the phone or computer for the message that I've been called back or cast. Every time a director makes a decision it's very hard for me to try to get out of their heads and figure out what their reasoning is.








A few months ago I lost out on a role that I was perfect for, and frankly, better than anyone else at the callbacks. I was told, by the director, that I didn't look like the woman that would be playing my mother, which is weird because the role I was up for is the entire show and no one really gives two shits about the mother, what she looks like, etc. To further add salt to that wound, it's a courtroom drama for all three acts and we would both be sitting...the whole time...on opposite sides of the stage. Honestly, the audience wasn't going to care about the look of either actress, and knowing the politics of this particular theatre and how spineless this director is, I know that the reason I wasn't cast was because he caved. Unless he's one of those directors that doesn't cast based on talent level...I've never met one of those directors but I've heard they are out there.








The funny thing about that show is that I was practically begged to come out an audition and at the callback it was quite obvious I was the perfect choice. PS. I never say such arrogant remarks like that, it was just that clear. So it's frustrating in situations like that when you don't get cast because you feel you wasted your time. Which I did.





But I digress....








In my audition chaos, I recently auditioned for a show that I am not only fond of, but I feel, very good for. This show does rely on the interaction, looks, and chemistry of all the characters. It's a puzzle and everyone has to fit, so I believe.








I felt my audition was solid (aside from the really awful accompianist...though I am spoiled having the best piano player in the world living under my roof as my better half...) and I just found out I wasn't called back.








I've been on the fence and it is heavily debated how people should be contacted or not contacted if the director is not interested. Should a phone call even be made? Is it better to leave actors in the dark? Does it depend on the venue in which the show is being done?








I find that I'd rather not know in most instances. I'd rather never hear from them again until another audition notice goes up. Don't call me to turn me down, don't email, just don't bother. It's OK. I'm a big girl and I can handle it (because I can always smoke a cigar and have a glass/bottle of wine)....I've gotten my fair share of good roles, and fantastic opportunities and I eventually realize that God has a plan and that's what I trust in.








But let's talk about how crappy email is. You cannot hear tone, you cannot see expressions...it's black and white, yet people find all the colors of the rainbows in it...they hear what they want to hear, they disect it, they bring it to their friends to disect it...it's a clusterfuck basically. I've grown to hate communication via email, text, etc. I like this blog because I think you can hear my tone, and for those of you that know me, you absolutely can hear me.








So this show that I feel I'm perfect for...I just checked my email after having worked a 14 hour day yesterday. I see the subject line: "Callbacks for Little Shop".








Think about it. What does that subject line say to you?





"Callbacks for Little Shop."








Just process it. I can wait.

















...........








Body of the email?





"If you see your name on the below list you have been called back..."


(yeah....my name wasn't there...I checked about 40 times thinking I must have missed it....you know how it is when you want to see your name and you read and read the list over again because you simply must be missing it..after all, no way would your name JUMP out at you because you're used to seeing what it looks like...you must have missed it...)








Here's the issue: that subject line sucks. No one really thinks of a subject line, no one really gives it more than a nano-second of thought...but that nano-second is an eternity and from the time you see it to the time you read the body of the email you are so excited to see callback details.








What you see is a list, without your name basically saying "if your name is on this list you've been called back...if not, you haven't, regardless of how awesome you thought the subject line was."








It's weird, for a soceity so dependent on email, text, anything to avoid face to face or telephone conversation, we're still pretty sucky at it.





I never even thought about this type of situation popping up...but I know I will now be more careful with regard to my subject lines when sending emails, and maybe, if you're reading this, you will too.








Happy emailing.

Jaywalking in NYC

Jaywalking as defined by Wikipedia...."an informal term used to refer to illegal or reckless pedestrian crossing of the roadway."

Ok.

There we have it: stay in the crosswalk. Or at least that's what I take from it, and it seems many others do as well. (Yes, there are other ways to jaywalk but we're not talking about that right now)..If not, why have the crosswalks in the first place? Why not just run (nay, walk) across 6th Avenue perpendicular to traffic?

Why not? Because you could die is why not.

I'm a fan of driving in NYC. It's aggressive, it takes skill, and I think it's sexy. The pedestrians seem to know the rules, know when to cross and where to cross. Last week however, as I was turning onto 6th from 30 something or other, three girls came flouncing out into the middle of the road.

The. Middle. Of. The. Road. Not where the white lines are are the corners, but right in the middle.

I absolutely did not have enough time to stop so I slowed down as much as I could and swerved to the left where no one else was. Then I stopped at the red light.

PS, it's summer and my windows and sunroof are allllll open. This will prove to be a bad idea in NYC.

I catch a quick look of death from the three girls that are jaywalking across 6th but whatever, I figured that would be it.

It wasn't, or else this blog wouldn't be here.

So the leader of the pack decides to shout in my direction "take off the sunglasses princess."...and then she scurries off because it's easier to shout at me and run because I am, afterall, behind the wheel of a car...

And I shout back to her: "don't jaywalk and use the crosswalk like everyone else."

She turns around, does the little neck head movement thing and says "oh really?"

To which I say "yes really. See those white lines over there? Everyone else manages to use them and perhaps you should give it a shot."

She then looks at my license plate and says "Ok Jersey" (PS she is still in the middle of 6th Ave. SIXTH AVENUE!!!!)...and I say "Ok Jersey? It's a NYC law that you cannot jaywalk you complete and total moron."

I then drive away because the light is now green. I make sure she can't use the crosswalk until after I get through the light.

Here's the thing....as annoying as some drivers can be, I would never go up against one while on foot. Furthermore, I wouldn't do what she did in the middle of a super busy street, especially in NYC. Unless I completely lost both my mind and desire to live.

This whole situation had me shaking my head the entire drive down saying "really? no really?"...and there was no one in the car with me...which is a shame, because you really had to see this. But I hope I painted one hell of a picture...next time you're on 6 and 30 something, think of this story and I guarantee you'll laugh.

Oh, and please stay in the lines.

The Magical Indoor Voice

I'm in Manhattan close to every day of the "work" week (that would be Monday through Friday)...I've recently decided that driving there, and parking is not only expensive but stressful. And after my recent encounter of almost plowing down three obnoxious girls while they were jaywalking (that will be in another blog where I'll discuss the definition of jaywalking), I've committed myself to taking the train in.

The people on the train are strange at best. Many have no idea that there is anyone else on the train. It doesn't matter if you're sitting right next to them, they have no idea that you are there.

How do I know this? Because many of them have yet to grasp the concept of the indoor voice. Either that or they really think that I care about how many shades of lowlights they recently put in their hair or what is on their grocery list.

It's interesting as well that the voices get louder once a cell phone comes into play. Just because the person on the other end might actually be 500 miles away, it doesn't mean your voice needs to get to the volume of extremely loud and annoying to reach them. You're both on the phone. Trust me, they can hear you...unless you're going through a tunnel right now which I hope you are because your call will be dropped...because not even the universe wants to hear what you have to say.

And trust me, no one else on the train does either.

...then again listening to "fat or pregnant", some game that 6 Australians came up with, while passing through Newark was entertaining...

So let's all remember back to 1st grade and use our indoor voices...and the train will be a much happier ride.

Unless it's late. Which it often is.

Better than hitting jaywalkers though, and parking for 10 minutes and spending $80 in less than an hour for a three minute go-see.

Shhhh....

You can't handle the truth.

There was a lawsuit several years ago about a woman who sued a company because she burnt herself on coffee. That company now has a lid on their coffee that says "caution:hot". It should read "caution:hot.duh".

Everywhere we go there are warnings. I find that the more warnings we are given, the easier they are to ignore. Humans have become numb to the text that is right in front of them...I cannot tell you how many emails I will send out, and the response I get is a question that was already answered in the initial email. In bold.

So now this Truth campaign comes along about the dangers of cigarette smoking. Right off the bat I know the dangers, cancer being number one. I don't need to know anything else because cancer is pretty awful.

Here's how I feel: if cancer isn't enough to get you to not smoke, then no amount of campaigning will be. Not that it isn't "good for them" for trying but honestly. It's cancer. Cancer is bad. We have charities to put money towards wiping out cancer. Everyone knows that they don't want cancer, yet plenty of people still smoke.

What is the purpose of trying to get these people not to smoke? They know the dangers. They know that they could die but they light up that cigarette anyway. Telling them that their jaw could fall apart or that their lungs could have tar in them, what's the point? If cancer doesn't scare them nothing will.

Why doesn't cancer scare them? It's the mentality of "that won't happen to me." So if they are that adament on that not happening to them, then I doubt they think their children will be affected or their teeth will rot out, etc. After all, they can't get cancer from smoking cancer sticks, so that means they are immune from everything else.

I will say this, I am not a smoker. I smoke cigars not cigarettes and I've never touched pot or any other drug for that matter. But yes, I know that cigars are bad for you. I know I could get mouth cancer and I know that is a risk that I take.

There is a surgeon's general warning on every pack of cigarettes that no one reads anymore. They know the risks, and they ignore them.

So for the life of me, I can't understand the campaign. I am all for educating people, but when people are already educated, it's time to stop.

The Legend that is Michael Jackson

It's surreal. He was one of those celebrities no one ever thought would "die"...at least no one ever entertained that fact. Not that people generally dwell on the idea of dying, whether it be about them or their loved ones, but to say that Michael Jackson is dead, is a really hard statement to make.

I grew up learning the Thriller dance and listening to his records on my Strawberry Shortcake record player. I still know the dance. I have countless songs of his on my iPod. There was something about him.

Michael Jackson shaped the music industry. Whether you liked his music or not, he was an undeniable force. He was the king of pop and I truly believe he will be for a long time to come.

No matter what went on in his personal life which was far from personal, no one can take away the fact that he was a living legend; an icon. He wrote songs that meant something. He sang and dance like no one does anymore. I'm deeply saddened that I will never be able to see this man perform live...one of the last pop stars that actually sings, for real, at his concerts.

There are a lot of "haters"...there are many that think he's probably burning in Hell right now...but the music world has fallen quite silent with this tragic loss.

The passing of this talented man will no doubt be a popular subject for months, years to come. Regardless of if you hated him, turned off his music when it came on...made fun of his face...or anything else...there is not one person that can say that Michael Jackson wasn't one of the strongest forces in music. Everything else aside, there is no other, nor will there ever be another Michael Jackson.

His legend will live on.

His memory will live on.

RIP Michael Jackson.......you are already missed.

Teresa

This bitch needs to STFU. Seriously.

I am watching Real Housewives of New Jersey: Reunion Special. I've had a problem with this woman since the middle of the season. She is a stage mom personified, arrogant, bitchy, and talks about how classy she is....which is so un-classy it's ridiculous. And her fake boobs, pinched face and ugly 1982 hair doesn't help her. At all.

When she talks about how much work she put into her house...please...it's really easy to swipe your husband's credit card. Or at least I imagine it is. Telling a mover where to put a chair or deciding between gold or silver, ain't that hard princess.

And your daughter....cute and all...nothing special and clearly, you're pushing her, not the other way around.

But now, she's on this reunion talking about how she is pushed by her daughter, how hot she is..and how she is skeeved out at living in someone else's house..because some people only wash their floors once a month.

Ok princess...when is the last time you got on your hands and knees? (for anything because I'm sure that position is "beneath you")...when is the last time you washed your floor? What you should have said was that some people don't wash their floors more than once a month (some people are busy and don't have nannys and actually have to do their own work..the REAL housewives of NJ or any other state) and that you have someone to do it every week...that you spend your husband's CASH to have your floors washed.

You've never picked up a finger that you've let anyone see...so this is how you paint yourself. So I will respectfully ask you to shut the fuck up and never appear on television ever again. You stupid, pinched face, fake boobed, money spending, stage mothering, arrogant for no reason bitch.

Say it with me: less hairspray.

Enough.

The Real Housewives of Franklin Lakes..not New Jersey

The season finale of "The Real Housewives of New Jersey" aired last night...and like any other good train wreck, I had to watch. Being from New Jersey...living here for the past 28 years (4 years at college out of state but that doesn't count)...I had to see this show.

Not unlike most reality shows, there is nothing real about this. I'm sure the producers were really concerned that you think it is real, but these are the housewives of Franklin Lakes and some of Bergen County. Not New Jersey.

First we had The Sopranos which painted The Garden State as the Smokestack Mob Run State...and now we have these women who make New Jersey housewives look like stuck up prima donnas who have no idea what struggle is about...frankly, I prefer how The Sopranos made the state look.

I'm not all about Jersey pride, but this is a little ridiculous. No one acts like this. Having worked in matrimonial law for two affluent law firms, I have seen some of the most spoiled brats ever. I've seen clients come into the office in their tennis uniforms, on the way to their pedicure, coming back from their latest vacation on some island...all of which paid for by their hardworking husbands....these same women of course wondered why their husbands cheated on them and filed for divorce, but it was no mystery to me.

There are 21 counties in this state. I've been to every single one. Some counties are richer than others and are homes to women like these. One county that comes to mind is of course, Bergen County, specifically Franklin Lakes, where these women were from.

Some housewives are like them. Some. But this wasn't "real"....there are housewives that get up early to take their kids to school with no make up on..housewives that spend the day cleaning the house...where were they?

I suppose that wouldn't attract an audience like this did. Of course not. But these women are a piece of work...and as much as I enjoyed watching this disaster unfold...watching these classless women who decide that "class" is equivalent to how much money you i.e. your husband has...these aren't the real housewives. They are a small percentage, a very very small percentage.

...and I bet they will all be filming "divorced housechicks of NJ" in a year or two....

Miley slowly murphing into Britney....except for the looks

Let me first start with a disclaimer: I like Britney's latest albums..they are great to drive to and to take to the gym...I don't think she can sing..but her music is fun. Christina can sing and I've always been her fan. I've never been a fan of Miley and I just don't get it. That said..

When Britney first started out it was clear that she was going to be the "it" girl..not because she could sing (we all know she can't) but because she had that look and the whole performance girl package. There was something about her that Christina, Jessica, even Mandy Moore (I had to use her last name because she's not at that "first name only" status) didn't have. As she got more and more famous her voice got more and more..um...digitized. She got hotter though whicih kind of made up for it. The clothes got smaller, her boobs got bigger and the style of music changed. Bottom line: she's hot she can do whatever the hell she wants.

Miley Miley Miley....

Miley is the goodie-goodie that Disney likes to put out. She's cute. She's bubbly. She's nausetingly adorable. Her music is cute but she doesn't have that "it" thing in her that Britney had...or has or whatever. But her new song that's from that goofy movie she's in...you can hear the distinct difference in her voice...either she's imitating Brit-Brit, or the studio manager is doing that to her voice. I'm guessing number one but bottom line is, it doesn't matter. Miley is never Britney and will never be Britney.

...what's frustrating about this is that Miley had/has the potential to be unique within her own little Disney shell...the teeny-boppers were going to love her no matter what she did, I mean, after all, remember that "scandolous" photo she took with Annie L.? (NOT scandolous the public is just sheltered and easily offended) and she was still loved.

Personally, I think she should do her next album either fresher and using an actual voice (I'm not entirely sure she has one) or just entitle it "Spiral to Britney"...or something like that.

Lyrics...

Lyrics are very powerful. Very. There's always a song that you can releate to no matter where you are...that's what I love about music..not that pop shit "baby hit me one more time."...no thanx...

...and the best thing about music is hearing these lyrics, not anticipating that they will reach you or make a difference, and then you stop and repeat the song because you're like "yes, totally it."

"'Cause sometimes you feel tired,feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up.

But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength and just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up

and not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse...."

but wait...there's more...

"This is your moment and every single minute you spend trying to hold onto it cause you may never get it again. So while you’re in it try to get as much shit as you can and when your run is over just admit when its at its end.Cause I'm at the end of my wits with half this shit that gets in."

"But in this industry I'm the cause of a lot of envy, so when I’m not put on this list the shit does not offend me.That's why you see me walk around like nothing's bothering me. Even though half you people got a fucking problem with me. You hate it but you know respect you’ve got to give me."

"And its absurd how people hang on every word. I’ll probably never get the props I feel I ever deserve. "

"I will not fall,I will stand tall,Feels like no one could beat me."

Eminem. I heart him.

Just Danielle

Blog time...

I've had my own blog for almost two years now...and reflecting on it and reading it...it's full of negativity, drama, issues, etc. Too much personal stuff that shouldn't be there..and I've shut it down to start this blog..to blog about stuff I see everyday that makes me laugh, smile, whatever..

..because we all need a little laughter in our lives.

...and a little less drama.

You all know me. Danielle. Daniela. Larry's fiance. Larry's wife. Tracey's best friend. Tracey's little sister. Garbo's mom. Diva. Hooter girl. Bitch. Nice person that doesn't allow you to call her nice. Playboy model. Cigar aficianado. City girl. Wine enthusiast.

I'm all of that...you know me.

But this time...I'm just Danielle.

Welcome to my blog of randomness. ...including random nudity...Discuss at will.

:P

xoxo

-D