Today my father would have been 53. That's so crazy to think about...

When I was young I remember walking home from school and thinking about every second of every moment that you miss once you pass.

"My dad didn't get to experience this moment...or this...or this."

I had this crazy fixation with thinking about the minute his life just stopped and the rest of the world just kept spinning. Now I know different. I know he's still with me all the time. I can feel him from time to time. I see feathers all over the place and I say hello to him (out loud). The weird thing is he was 31 when he passed. Now that I'm 31 it's a bit weird. I'm about to surpass my dad's time on this earth...That's just weird to me.

Happy Birthday Dad. You're missed, but never forgotten!

Meeting the Miracle Worker

"The only man who behaved sensibly was my tailor; he took my measurement anew every time he saw me, while all the rest went on with their old measurements and expected them to fit me."  ~ George Bernard Shaw

So the meeting with the agent...

It went well. It took me an hour to get there so by the time I bursted into the room, cookies in hand; a bit of a mess I was (said Yoda.) I waited for about 15 minutes and then there she was: this fun, energetic woman with the Tishy zeal.

She blew my mind a bit...maybe a little too much becuase I left that meeting with a list of things she wants me to do. I have to take professional acting classes...at Groundlings or one of those big improv places where SNL folks go. (Um can you say SCARY and EXPENSIVE!) I have to add some pictures to my portfolio, change up my resume a bit...

It's good to know someone's finally looking at me with fresh eyes and telling me straight out what to do in order to get my acting career going, but it's terrifying, too.

It's a big investment...Funny, you'd think I wouldn't care about the costs (emotionally and financially speaking) but that stuff still creeps up. I still have moments where I think I can't do this...where I wonder if I've got the chops...if it's really necessary:

"Well [insert famous actor's name] didn't have to take classes. (S)he was just discovered and that was it."

But I will do it because something in me says to and that voice doesn't speak up very often.

I'm thankful as heck that I've found this person who wants to take my measurements every time she sees me. It's a beautiful thing...scary, but beautiful.

There's this wall at my agency that seriously inspires the crap out of me. Shows others at my agency have been in. Sniff

Meeting with the Agent

So today I meet with my agent. Her name is Steph. She has been pimping the shat out of me lately. This is all I know of her so I plan to bring her a nice big, yummy jar of those organic lavendar cookies I've been geeking over ever since the Downtown LA Art Walk.

I'm hoping those cookies blow her mind and permanently etch my name and face into her little pimpy head. PIMP MEEEEE.

I'm coming up on my 7th year here in LA. It's time to kiss some butt...do whatever it takes (that doesn't involve the horizontal polka) in order to get this dream a'crackin!

Let's hope she loves those cookies as much as I do...


I gave up Netflix months ago, but I'm back once again...all in the name of Felicity. A friend started watching the episodes again and when she mentioned the show I immediately flashed back to a sweeter time when I was a Junior in high school...the only stressers I had were getting my homework done in time to catch the show and wondering if my hair would ever be as pretty as hers.

Watching it again is sort of weird. The college-y stuff didn't make sense when I was in high school...It was all dreams and fantasies at that point, but now that I've lived through that period...I can reminisce the ish out of my college years and that show. The relationships, the odd jobs here and there, the parties and weeks of studying for finals with friends. I miss it so...

It's this beautiful past time I engage in whenever I have a couple of hours to pass. Last Friday I woke at 5:30am and actually passed up trying to get more sleep for a couple rounds of Noel and Ben. And I'm finding out all of this cool new stuff that I didn't know before like Taraji P. Henson was on a bunch of episodes. Janeane Garofalo is the voice of Sally (the woman Felicity is always talking to on tape recorders) and Jennifer Garner was awkwardly adorable during her cameo.

I swear I'm going to cry all over again when I finish all the episodes, but for now I'm in heaven...loving every minute of it. I swear they don't make shows like this with characters this great anymore. Might I add this is the perfect time to re-watch great shows...because there is absolutely NOTHING on TV this summer.

I must go and listen to the theme song of the show now...because I have the CD. I loved it like that back then, yo!

I loved Javier! I used to do impersonations of him. "Don't lie to me...Do I look fat? Do I need a tummy tuck?"

Fun things I've noticed that totally remind me it was shot in 1997: No one has cell phones. They talk about pagers at times. Noel geeks out over the iMac. (Love that one!)

Meaning in the Meager

My baby sister gave me the most beautiful earrings for my birthday last year. They're from a little shop in South Korea that she loved to frequent.

I swear when I opened the dainty box they came in, I gasped a bit. They're so different and delicate. She pegged my taste in jewelry like whoa (yeah I brought that back.)

I went to a cocktail party on Saturday and was feeling simplicity so I plucked these out and paired them with my favorite black dress; threw my hair back in a ponytail and called it a day.

If Julie Andrews asked me to revamp her song I'd add these earrings. Definitely...


Yesterday I went on my very first wine tasting adventure!

(That's one more notch on my big kid belt.) I accompanied three lovely ladies to Malibu and we hopped between two different spots and ate at this fantastic little spot that had THE best rosemary pulled chicken. Between the wine and the man-mosas (giant sized mimosas) I'm about liquored out for a very long time. Like a loooong time. 

It was a nice day though. I got a sweet little buzz. I tried some really groovy wines including one from a place called the Woodstock Black Widow. It was smooth, yo. Dug the name lots. 

Malibu is so beautiful. We visited the Malibu Cafe and I immediately wanted a million dollars so that one day I could get hitched there. There were twinkle lights, a large open space, enchanting ponds and this over all wonderful sense of calm. 

Made for the perfect day.



I'm obsessed with products. I have issues. I realize that. My sisters are very much aware of this which is why I'm pretty sure they give me fun stuff like this all the time. 

I have this thing for ginger smells, but beyond the smell this stuff is like butta. I mean smooth. Like baby's butt in a commercial smooth. 

Lovin the lush cuz the lush loves me!

Dress Beautifully

I'm so excited that acting classes are done until the fall.

Yeah, I get that I'm supposed to love them up and want to take them every day, but memorizing takes up a lot of time (when I have more than one performance per class) and it takes it out of me emotionally. Last time I had this powerful moment that left me empty...like every tear was squeezed out of me and then an imaginary elephant pushed on my heart until every last feeling was expunged from my chest. I was an emotional zombie for days.

You could have told me the saddest story ever told and I would have just looked at you with a blank stare. It would have been like that!

Anyways, I'm happy I get a break from all that, but most especially I'm glad I get time before I have to do the unthinkable. Have I mentioned before that my acting coach is magical? That she can see inside your soul and tell you things about yourself you've never told anyone? It only takes her seconds, too. She sizes you up and then proceeds to tell you in the most soft spoken voice the most personal ish you've ever tried to hide.

She did that to me.  She waited until class was over; then pulled me to the side and told me that for the next class I had to dress beautifully.

"And by that Tish I mean you have to dress in a way that honors your beauty. I know you hide your beauty in goofiness and baggy clothes to make others feel more comfortable around you. I want you to know that you don't have to hide here. I want to see you."

I almost bawled right there in the damn door. I wonder how many people have ever figured out why I am the way I am...the clown, the goof, the tomboy whackadoo. I'm freaking out trying to put together clothes that reflect a beautiful girl. That sounds silly even writing. Arrogant, just a bit...

I got issues in different area codes, y'all.


That book, Elegance of the Hedgehog, is still with me: parts, words, paragraphs, sentiments...

There was this one word in particular that made me dog-ear the page. (It was a library book, too.) Ever since I first learned of the word wabi-sabi I've been on a hunt to capture it with my camera...

"Pared down to its barest essence, wabi-sabi is the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in nature, of accepting the natural cycle of growth, decay, and death. It's simple, slow, and uncluttered-and it reveres authenticity above all. Wabi-sabi is flea markets, not warehouse stores; aged wood, not Pergo; rice paper, not glass. It celebrates cracks and crevices and all the other marks that time, weather, and loving use leave behind..."

I need to get out of LA in order to capture some simplicity apparently.  I'm totally analyzing that by the way...the fact that I can't physically find something that's rice paper-not glass.

Life's complicated...but I'm working on that cliche.

PMS Vaccine

Wooo I've had some raging PMS lately. I woke up Sunday morning and everything was wrong. I was crying over my weight gain, crying that I'm back at square one with working out (darn back ish screwed me), pissed at my acne, pissed that I haven't made it yet, pissed that writing was so ripping my brain to shreds, pissed that my shorts were too small and giving me camel toe.

I feel bad for Jersey...He could tell me no right. He could dry no tears. I was just in self-mean girl mode and I was on FIYA!!!

Okay I'm still a little bit there. I'm really frustrated with working out lately. I had to take time off to nurse a back injury, so now that I'm back I'm starting over...AGAIN. I feel like I'm always starting over...that I'm forever a weakling...It's SO frustrating.

I was swinging those kettle bells with a vengeance!

Someone please invent a vaccine for PMS. PLEASE! Rid it from this world!

I am so thankful I survived this round of pimply monster stabbiness. Also glad Jersey survived, too.

I told Jersey not to eff with the power of hormones. They can eat you alive!

Isla Cocina Pilipina

Recently Jersey and I hit up this restaurant in Eagle Rock called Isla Cocina Pilipina. We're on a mission to find a swanky good Filipino spot.

Verdict? It was good, but not great. The restaurant itself was a bit awkward. There was a grip of empty space which made me feel a bit wonky...definitely had a cold ambiance.

Jersey was tearing UP that food and took great pride in ordering for me. The waiter looked at me like I was incompetent or about to try Filipino food for the first time.  I reassured him that wasn't the case. Jersey is just snotty about my pronunciations. Really, I'm the ONLY person in the world who can't say ponsit correctly.

I danced while eating (which is a good sign) but the waiter was also tons of fun so that could have explained my goofiness, too. He kept trying to get me to order chocolate sauce and a soup #5 lol...For all of you non-Filipinos, you'll have to google that. I really try to eat like the Romans when I'm chillin in their kitchens, but I can't get down with that ish man! Just can't.

Overall it was just okay. No fun drinks, normal food with no specific wow factor and kind of a ways from us so I don't know if we'll be going back...unless his people's come into town and need to grub.

Nikki Said

I love Nikki Giovanni's poems.
When I was 15 I worked at an antique photography shop at Worlds of Scum Fun with this wonderfully, smart gal named Charletta. One day, during our down time, she decided to perform "Ego Tripping" for me and I was hooked. I had never heard poetry like that before.

It's earth and sole and history and love and words and twists...it's everything swirling around in my soul that I was never clever enough to express.

Yesterday I found a tiny book shop in Long Beach that had one of books of poetry for sale, 20% off. It was a sign. Scooped it up.

First poem from Bicycles:

Where Do You Enter

Where do you enter
A poem

At the same place 
I enter you
with balance
and trust
and a jazzy sense
of adventure

Painting outside
the lines
wearing clothes cut
against the bias
with spices
among the flowers

A poem unfolds like a baby bat
testing her wings
or a kitten taking
her first steps
or a good dog
moving arthritic limbs
toward the door

There is a sadness
as well as loss
in the promise
of love

We begin a poem
with longing
and end with

And laugh
all through the storms
that are bound to come

We have umbrellas
We have boots
We have each other

If I may quote Labelle:
Voulez-vous coucher
Avec moi? Ce soir?

Meaning in the Meager

I value and love all of my books, but there's one in particular that I'm oh-so-proud I own. Before our President was head honcho, he was this amazing senator who stole my heart when he spoke at the 2004 DNC. I received this book as a gift from someone who knew how much I respected that man. One of the best gifts; I swear!

Every time I walk by it I do little internal pelvic thrusts.

Super R.A.G.

So yesterday I had ANOTHER audition. (This new agent is my favorite person in the whole wide world!!!) This time I was going out for a part requesting a Latina mom. I can do that! I can do a whole mess of things because everyone and their dog mistakes me for every race in the book.

(I've once told someone I was Japanese and they didn't even flinch.)

I wasn't sweating the new race box I'd need to check until I got to the actual audition and saw that I was seriously the only non-Latina girl there. Everyone was and then there was me. The crazy part was when all of us girls went into the room to find out what we'd be doing for the audition I chirped up that I wasn't Latina and they were all shocked. Super R.A.G. (racically ambiguous girl) had done it again.

The casting director assured me it didn't matter so I did my magic vaccuum face (please don't ask) and was out the door.

While waiting for my turn I did make quick friends with a gal beside me. Don't know her name, but do know she's Filipina and some other mixes and was BEE-YOU-TEE-FUL. She told me I had great energy (I love when people talk Hippy to me!) and told me it's a good thing I'm starting to get asked to audition for my mommy-like roles because there are more of 'em out there.

I think I have to let go of my agist pride and accept it. I am in my 30s afterall... Just because I feel like a 14 year-old-kid doesnt mean I'll book for that age range!

I just have to take care of my nerves. I swear I walk in to each audition cool as a cucumber and leave a hot mess. I just over-analyze everything. Did I push that magic vacuum around well? Did I smile too much? Was I too perky? Not perky enough? Could I have pushed it differently than every other girl who went in that room? What kind of person has these thoughts?! An actress in training, that's who!

I swear every time I shower with this soap that J gave me for my birthday I get an audition ping.  It's magic...more magical than  that darn vacuum cleaner; that's for sure!

The Jury is In


Usually Instagram is a source of fun riff raff/artsy fartsy goodness, but yesterday I came across something that turned my beloved photo app into facebook. By that I mean lots of drama came spilling out of the unsaid.

You know how certain updates will you get tons of "likes" while others pop out thousands of crickets chirping? Well that's kind of what happened on Jersey's Instagram page. (I recommend following him. He takes some fun shots...well besides the ones where I hack in and add my own little photo bombs. hee hee.)

So yeah...the photos he took before of his family and so forth got oodles of love from his friends. Then "he" posts this one (hee hee) and SILENCE from the peanut gallery. And that ish ALWAYS happens. His friends  kind of magically disappear. 

This is honest crap I'm writing here people! Girlfriends never admit/say/write that her dude's friends aren't really feeling her. She usually confesses such things to her best friend and calls it a day, but I love spilling my beans on this thing. (Plus his friends don't read my ish...as you probably now know why.)

So yeah...there's a little girl inside of me that feels a bit hurt by that. Don't know really what to make of it. If this were a Seinfeld episode I'd think I were the girl with man hands or something.

Tween Twat Moment

Yep, I'm one of those fans. I'm counting down the days until this last one hits the theaters. I haven't been this excited since my mom told me I could wear my lucky Punky Brewster undies to her wedding!

Coming Home

Holy bumper balls! Jersey is coming back home!

TODAY! And he's going to play with me! I'll have someone to talk to! And I'll still clean all THE FRICKIN TIME but at least it won't be me going into the kitchen...thinking it looks too clean, making a mess and then re-cleaning.

Life will go back to normal. Thank the holy Mr. Clean. Slap me and call me Susan! Or Sally. Sally works.

The other night I was chilling in bed when I heard a noise. I knew if this were a horror movie I should not go to the noise like a chump and get murdered so I remained in bed...and continued to watch Easy A. But then the noise thumped again and my inner virgin-with-big-boobs-just-looking-to-get-slashed took over and down the stairs I went looking in every closet...checking every door lock. Sigh...I didn't go to bed until 11pm. That's UNHEARD of for this Gram-mama I say!

It was time...I did good. I survived solo nights in this big arse home. I was bored, but I didn't go bonkers. I can't wait for this dude to land. He only thought I was a chatter box when he'd get home from work. 8 hours...try weeks!!!

Beware the mouth, Jersey!

(Please stop being perverted folks)

Freeway Art

LA freeways are always under construction it seems.  While I'm sure it'll be some glorious overpass someday, it currently looks like something out of Mad Max.

I started belting out, "We don't need another hero!" like it was nobody's business. Love when my surroundings take me back to a film...

It's a personality quirk that this little actor appreciates about herself.

The Village Idiot

Yesterday's audition was a brand new experience for me. I didn't freak out at all. No nervous poots, no sharts (yep, I wrote that!) I was a calm individual just trying to make sure I could walk into the building without screaming out in back pain.

I made it down to Santa Monica easily enough; found great parking (which never happens) and only semi-embarrassed myself walking back and forth in front of the casting door. When I finally came in everyone was laughing at me...apparently I'm not the only one who was having a hard time finding the door. The place was called The Village Studio...apparently village idiots are welcomed and encouraged there.

I was paired with a 16 year-old-boy named Lexington (groovy name, right?) and off we went to audition together. It was oh-so-glamorous. I did a little improv work as a college counselor and that was it. Five minutes tops. Better than a poop commercial though, right?!

Callbacks aren't until the 18th and 19th so if I do get the callback it'll be awhile. I'm just really thankful at this point that I'm getting auditions. Lexington was the nervous one which was really cute to witness. His little chucks were shaking with fierceness.

I'm learning to get comfortable with the life of an actor...meaning I'm finding the fun in all the parts of acting...not just the jobs I book and get paid for. Imagine that...I'm being more realistic and not so hard on myself. Hopefully it's not a phase. It's hard to know with a drama queen, though...

Out of Commission

This past Saturday I tried out a new fitness class for FBG called Pound that I swear broke my damn back. I'll go into details about how that happened on FBG. That's not the important part at this moment. The part that's been bugging me all weekend long is the fact that I've been out of commission and unable to do jack diddly squat on my break from work.

I had plans to wake up early Sunday morning, go for a run, get some great coffee and see a movie by myself. The perfect solo date day...but instead I didn't sleep at all Saturday night. Every slight movement sent me into hysterics; ripping me from my sleep and causing me to cry out in pain. I've never felt pain like this before. (It was like I was channeling Frida Kahlo...that kind of pain.)

I laid in bed, awake and scared for about four hours and then finally got up the nerve to get up and head downstairs so that I could let Brigid in. She brought me Aleve and company (for which I'm eternally grateful) and helped me calm down.

I'm depressed as shat. I have an audition today that I'm pretty sure is going to take all my willpower to prepare for and then get to.

This has sent me for a long loop. I'm so disappointed and frustrated with my body. Upset that I can't just walk around like I want to...Pissed OFF that I can't even pick up a plate without wincing...raged the heck out that this crap is interfering with my acting dreams.

Jersey comes home on Wednesday and I don't feel like I've done a good job of making him proud...I've proven that I'm not so good at being independent and comfortable with just myself. I was hoping while he was gone I'd get out and explore my city...show him and myself that I'm a big girl but alas, all I've done is show that I had WAY too big of a crush on Sheila E as a kid.

I sat in that Pound class hitting the shat out of those drum sticks, bending over for a good hour like I had the body of a teenager.

If anything good came from this ailment it's that I'll never regret drumming lessons. I picked the right dream for realz!

Bringing sexy to the back

Meaning in the Meager Monday

I am not a 'purse chick' by any means. I don't keep bags for different looks. I only have one look--Tish geek /tomboy chic and so I rock this crossbody Marc by Marc Jacobs bag ALL.THE.TIME. 

I never got that whole accessory pairing thing apparently.

I love all the space in this bad boy. I love the prep-tastic strap and the pockets for my little odds and ends. The one thing I can't love and will never love are the two huge ink stains on the bottom of it. I got them both from sitting my bag under a plane seat. Still peeves me. 

That's it though. Got it for Christmas two holidays ago and still love it just as much as I did then.

"Bag lady...you gone hurt your back"

The First Day

The first day back in LA was weird. Weird to be back without the fella, but even weirder trying to get back to the three hour time difference as well as that dreadful thing called work. 

The day passed quickly. J was in town for a Bob Harper personal workout (yes, I've befriended a kick-ass fitness rock star apparently) so I had a playmate to keep me from drowning in my adult sorrows.

I took her out for some scrumptious burgers at The Counter and then we came home for some quiet time...painted our nails, watched some telly and drank some wine she had previously tried on her honeymoon in Napa Valley. 

It was like old times...no big hoopla. Just good ole friend time. 

Now that I'm calm, settled and unpacked I just need some time to process the last week and a half. Maybe I'll go a bit back further...life's been a bit nutty lately. 

I need to do some FBG writing, get in some book writing and think about the acting job I came so close to getting. Sprinkle in a little time for my relationship and how much closer it's gotten.

I'm preparing to have my mind BLOWN.  

Human Kindness Is Overflowing

I apologize for the long absence. I think this is the longest I've gone without writing, actually.

Jersey's father passed away. While we knew he was sick none of us expected it to happen when it did, how it did...I especially was knocked down to my knees when I learned the news because he's just like his son. They're these physical beast-like men who push their bodies to the brink.

The minute I heard the news I changed my flight schedule to get out there as soon as possible. I got there and something just changed in me. I saw the little boy in my beloved...I saw the broken heart in him that I've carried around for years now after losing my own father (a club of sad souls who understand the grief) and I went into protector mode. I made sure to be there...to listen and act when need be.

The day of the funeral it rained...the first day of rain in weeks. I sat in the limo with the family while Bette Midler's, "I Think It's Gonna Rain Today" played over and over in my head.

I didn't think my fella and I could be any more close...or that I could love him more, but I wanted to protect him from the pain with a strength I never knew I had. It was hard coming home without him but I'm proud of him for staying and helping his mother put her life back together again...whatever that means.

This is life. This is what it means to be a big kid....to be in a real relationship. At the funeral I went up to Jersey's father, placed my hand upon his heart and whispered to him that I would always take care of his son and would love him and honor him.

Human kindness is overflowing...

The day of the funeral the clouds rolled in...

A Call Back...

I'm going to be with Jersey for a couple of days...When your love calls; you go. He asked and I went into action. By the time you read this I'll be on a plane. Sometimes you just have to drop everything and be there. I sadly have expertise in the area that pains him the most, so I'm there to be a listening ear and help in anyway I can.

While booking my flight out there I found out the folks at my audition liked me enough for a callback. This is my first callback out here in LA. I've never been so happy, relieved, sad, mad, crazed and desperate in the same breath before. I managed to keep my head and heart in tact long enough to rearrange the audition and flight so I can do both. This is the first time being a good planner felt like I was being a creep. I am far from being wise, but I'm learning.

Life's complexities...

Sorry for being so cryptic. I can't really focus today. I can't get the words out with quite the same ease. 

For those who pray, pray for peace of mind for my Jersey family.

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