I, like many people on the train, often ignore the people asking for money, singing, or playing instruments on the train. But once in a while someone or some group of people are just too hard to ignore and sometimes those people are actually worth listening to if only for a few seconds . .
So I was on the A train heading back home after seeing End of Longing at the MCC Theatre. I had the playbill in my hand and the woman beside me asked what the play was about. After doing a mediocre job of explaining things I let her read the article in the playbill with Matthew Perry. She was suddenly determined to see the show.
Having dealt with alcoholism herself the piece intrigued her and I’m certain she will not only see the show but bring someone with her. It reminded me of how theatre can move people. And how I hope people are moved by my piece.
It’s Not Stamped On Your Forehead is a long time coming. I’ve been trying to write about being sick basically since the time I was diagnosed almost twenty years ago. At the very least I hope the show sparks an honest conversation about what it means to live with mental illness – the medications, the impact on relationships, constant doctor’s supervision, fear of relapse, and so much more.
Click Here To Buy Tickets to It’s Not Stamped On Your Forehead presented by The Midtown International Theatre Festival – August 1st 7:45pm; August 3rd 6pm; August 5th 7:15 at the Jewel Box Theatre 312 West 36th St.
Recently I’ve been using Uber a lot and the drivers have been doing some amazing things. One Uber driver helped me carry my groceries up the stairs. Another Uber driver gave me some bottled water. And then knowing that the app does not allow for tipping I had to give the drivers something for going the extra mile.
Then it made me think shouldn’t I tip all Uber drivers? Just because they can make a good amount of money as Uber drivers through the app alone should they not be treated like every other cab driver and given a tip?
Maybe I’m just in the dark. Do you tip your Uber driver?
One of my favorite lines is from an Ani DiFranco song
“How come I can pick my ears and not my nose? Who made up that rule anyway?”
I don’t know who made it up but life is nicer with it in place.
Even though there are tons of people who don’t abide by this form of etiquette thank you to those that do!
So again I saw a stranger brushing their teeth in a public restroom and all I can think is WHY?
I do not believe brushing your teeth in a public restroom keeps your mouth clean. I believe all the germs in the bathroom go into your mouth.
That was my exact thought as I watched a woman cup her hands under a public faucet and rinse her mouth out.
In our quest to be clean sometimes we open ourselves up to a whole lot of mess.
The other day I saw a man flossing on the train. Now I truly believe in dental hygiene but is flossing on the train really necessary? Will it result in irrevocable damage if you wait until you get home?
Now maybe he had something between his teeth & that is annoying but whatever happened to tooth picks? And who are these people walking around with dental floss?
I still have to come to terms with the fact that there is nothing that isn’t done on the subway in NYC.
My brother said, “People like to say that there is no such thing as a stupid question but sometimes people ask stupid questions. Like if there’s a bottle of water on the table and someone comes to the table and asks “Is this water?” That’s a stupid question.”
I grew up being told that there is no such thing as a stupid question but I have to admit that my brother has a point.
I read an article on Linkedin that said you should never begin a sentence with “This might be a stupid question” because it means you lack confidence. But what if the question is really stupid and you don’t acknowledge that it might be then don’t you just look like an idiot?
I think you should know if your question is stupid or not but still not be afraid to ask it. Sometimes when I ask a stupid question the answer surprises me. And then I think I’m glad I’m not afraid to look stupid.
I told a friend of mine that I wanted to do something I hadn’t done in twenty years. He could tell that I was really nervous and even a bit paranoid so he said,
“It’s like riding a bike.”
I didn’t say that I never really learned how to ride a bike. I tried to learn, biked into a tree, and then never rode a bike again.
But I understood what he meant. Now if I had to I would get back on a bike. I’ve already run into a tree. It’s all up hill from there.
Recently I was in a African hair salon getting my hair done and listening to the women in the shop speak their native language while listening to some of their favorite songs.
And then for a moment as I sat in the chair, blind without my glasses, listening to them talk over the music, I felt I could hear beauty.
Unable to understand anything they were saying it seemed I understood everything they were saying – from their tone and occasional outbursts of laughter there was the feeling of warmth and love that being apart of a community provides.
I recently had a conversation with someone who referred to himself in the third person. It was the first time we’d met and it was at the beginning of our first conversation. I was so taken aback it took me a full minute to realize the name he was using was actually his name.
Unfortunately the rest of the conversation was not very memorable but there was really no way he could top the way it started. And oftentimes I forget people’s names as soon as they tell me but his I will never forget.
It’s funny how a mixture of arrogance and nervousness can leave such a lasting impression.