“It’s Science… You’re Not Supposed To Understand It!”

So says Linda Belcher on the animated show “Bob’s Burgers.” It was literally music to my ears when I heard Linda utter those words. It’s good to know I am not alone in my thinking… even if my science soul sister is a cartoon character. I simply can’t remember a time when I ever pondered the mystery of HOW something works. I flip a switch on the wall and PRESTO! I have light. You think I care how electricity is made? Nope. Didn’t Benjamin Franklin stand in the rain with a kite waiting for lightning to strike him so he could prove electricity existed? That would never be me. I hate the rain, and you’ll certainly never catch me outside in a storm if there’s a possibility of getting electrocuted. No, thank you.

Science is something that has always made me run screaming for the hills. I can’t even remember one science experiment I did in school other than the one where you put a battery and a light bulb on a wooden board to create a circuit. (It’s ironic I remembered that project, since I’ve already established I don’t give a hoot about how electricity is generated.) Science was so lackluster a subject for me that I don’t remember any of my teachers other than my Biology teacher, who was even shorter than me. I didn’t like her and neither did anyone else, evidenced by the little plastic army men scattered along the ceiling who were holding guns pointed directly at her desk (and her head). Even when I took Physical Science aka Earth Science, I was a lost cause. This was the class most people referred to as “silly science”. There was nothing “silly” about it for me. I had about as much of a chance of understanding ocean tides as I did of climbing Mt. Everest. (Thus far, I’ve only managed to climb Mt. Olympus in Greece.)

By the time Chemistry rolled around, I had officially given up on science. As they say in Monopoly, I passed go, and immediately sat my butt down in study hall, while the rest of my classmates played with their periodic tables and Bunsen burners. No way Chemistry was going to ruin my A+ average and mess up my college applications! Sometimes when friends commiserate over their high school/college Chemistry classes, I feel a slight twinge of sadness and regret but it passes quickly. Screw that! Sounds like I dodged a bullet!

As I’ve gotten older, my inability to understand science has not changed. Just the other night, someone was explaining to me how air conditioners worked. I thought it was by ADDING cold air into the room. Silly me. It apparently REMOVES heat from the room instead. How does that happen exactly? Don’t care. I’m the science dummy, remember? Then there is the issue with my thermos. I’ve had it for two years and it has faithfully kept my coffee super hot in the morning. It’s been delightful. But I’ve noticed recently it wasn’t doing the job so well anymore. I looked up online what could be causing my thermos to lose heat. Maybe, perchance, even someone like me could perform a quick fix and get it to work again. Well, the minute the website started talking about vacuum seals and insulation the game was over, and I was instantly on Amazon looking for a replacement product. Why try to understand why my thermos was broken when I can just throw it in the garbage and get a new one for $24.99?

         The kicker was when I asked my friend yesterday about dogs and cats for my Instagram page Dogtalesnyc. I wanted to know if by calling dogs and cats different “species” I was using the correct terminology. His text response was: “Dogs and cats are both animals, mammalian, and carnivores, but differ in family, genus, and species. Domestic dogs are canus familiaris and domestic cats are felus catus.” When I pointed out that even humans are animals, he stated: “Correct. I was just going through the different branches of taxonomy.” Ummm… okay, I don’t think I asked for all that. And I KNOW I didn’t understand any of it. But I’m pretty sure somewhere in there he said that dogs and cats ARE different species.

            I’ve come to accept that science is beyond the scope of my understanding. Kudos to my friends who work in the scientific field and DO get it. I’m comfortable trusting in others to provide me with any science information I may need. Yeah, fat chance. I’m reminded of one of my favorite scenes from the film “Baby Boom” where Diane Keaton’s character lives in small-town Vermont and has a complete meltdown upon discovering she has no water. When the repairman tries to explain to her why it’s not working, she exclaims in desperation: “I just want to turn on the faucets and have water.  I don’t want to know where it’s coming from!!!” Amen, Diane!

Time… Friend or Foe?

Time. It’s a double-edged sword. We cry when we don’t have it; we scream that we want more of it; but then when we finally get it, we curl up in a fetal position moaning that we don’t know what to do with it… Or maybe that’s just me.

You see, I’ve spent the better part of my life working multiple jobs. I didn’t even notice I was doing it at first. I graduated college and became a full-time accountant while still working part-time at the Limited. Want me to teach you how to fold a sweater using a clipboard? I’d be happy to! Wanna know what big slobs women are in the dressing room? Just ask me. Over the years, I’ve often juggled multiple jobs while pursuing a career as an actress and more recently, a writer. I would tell myself that this is just what people do when they’re “artists”; you work to support your craft. What I didn’t realize is that pulling myself in so many directions with so many different jobs was actually counter productive to being an artist. I was never truly in the moment… I was too busy trying to keep track of which job I was going to next, while making sure I didn’t screw anything up in the process.

Time management has always been an issue for me. I struggle with how much (or how little) time to spend on something and then berate myself afterwards for whatever choice I made. I’ve never been good at picking and choosing… often it has to be dictated to me in the form of a deadline imposed by someone else. I sometimes wander around my apartment aimlessly, trying to figure out which project I should work on next. And what about those projects? How many balls can I juggle in the air at the same time before one drops? (Side note: I was in the musical “Barnum” in my teens and I never managed to juggle more than three balls simultaneously if that’s any indication.)

My juggling skills proved to be effective enough to write four plays and perform in numerous shows over the years. But looking back, it was usually at the expense of my sanity. One of my plays was in the NY International Fringe Festival in the summer of 2015. It was truly a career highlight and I am grateful every day to have been a part of it. However, much of the experience was a big fat blur because I didn’t take the time to stop and catch my breath.

So here I am… it’s the beginning of 2017. (Small and quiet “woo hoo”.) I quit one of my jobs at the end of 2016. (BIG and LOUD “woo hoo”!) I’ve saved up enough money to work part-time for the near future. (Another BIG and LOUD “woo hoo”!) At year’s end, I kept telling people we need to create space in our lives for new things to come into it. Doesn’t that sound so smart and new agey? Well now that I’ve created that space I find myself thinking, “Okay smart-ass, now what?” Seriously, what do I do with this newfound time I have on my hands? I almost want to hide, convinced someone is going to find me and ask me to DO something: “Dina, now that you have more time, can you please do xxx?” I reply: “No! Leave me alone! Get away from me!” And I’m instantly curled up in that fetal position again. But secretly I think it’s myself I’m hiding from… I’m afraid my inner artist is going to ask me to do too many things at once and my head will explode.  Or I won’t be able to decide which project to tackle first and I’ll shut down and end up doing nothing. My brain thinks a lot of crazy things these days.

However, I will not let my fears consume me. Yes, I’m scared, but isn’t the definition of courage acting in spite of fear? So that’s what I’m going to do.  I’m going to take action. I’m coming up with a game plan and I even have a career coach to guide me. (Tessa Faye is a goddess FYI!) If I’m going to be successful, I must find a way to juggle more carefully. And sometimes that might mean throwing only one ball in the air and being okay with that. It means saying no to projects that don’t resonate with me. It means accepting that priorities are ever changing and what’s critical one minute, might be moved to the bottom of the list the next. It means trusting myself that I CAN do it, and if I can’t, there’s probably a good reason and I don’t have to beat up on myself. Things always have a way of getting done in my world, even if the timetable shifts along the way.

I think about all the things I didn’t allow myself to do because I told myself I either didn’t have the time or that I shouldn’t spend the time. What a jerk I was! Heck, this blog has been dormant since the end of 2013 because I felt it took too much time away from other things. (Note: this blog entry took me less than two hours to write. Is that really a lot of time in the course of someone’s life? I personally don’t think so!)

Time need not be my enemy. As long as I’m breathing, there’s always more time. Whoa – admitting “there’s always more time” was really hard to say, but it needed to be said. And I need to embrace that sentiment in my life on a daily basis. Another thing I need to do… STOP. And as my friend Drew says, “Take the time to stop and smell the flowers.” FYI, Drew, I think it’s “Take the time to stop and smell the roses,” but I love you for the sentiment and I couldn’t agree more!

It’s Time To Tell The Voices In My Head To “Shut The F*** Up!!!”

            I am suddenly aware it’s the second time this year I’ve used the F-bomb in the subject of a blog entry. Oops. Sometimes the F-bomb is necessary (sorry, mom). But I digress… Does anyone out there feel the way I do? Who, besides me, hears voices in their head? No, I’m not talking about the scary-creepy-schizophrenic kind, but the bossy, stressful voice continually reminding you of all the things you need “TO DO?” Yeah, THAT voice.

            I’ve always been a hard worker. I was the geek in high school who woke up in the middle of the night to study MORE for an exam I was probably already prepared for. (My own parents had to tell me to stop working so hard.) A virtual “To Do” list was something that was always running around my brain – kind of like the ticker that runs around the building in Times Square telling us about the latest news headlines.

            While it’s great to keep track of the tasks at hand, a perpetual ticker in my brain is NOT so great. I’ve tried making physical lists and setting alarms on my calendar, in an attempt to get that “To Do” list out of my head, but it doesn’t matter. The ticker never shuts off. It spins around and around, and sometimes wakes me up in the middle of the night. And as this ticker keeps spinning in my head, my life is spinning by at the same time.

            I was talking to a friend the other day about an approaching deadline I have for my writing – one that was self-imposed of course – and I was freaking out:

ME: “I have TO DO it by December 31^st.”

FRIEND: “Why?”

ME: “Because I have to.”

FRIEND: “Why?”

ME: “Because I just DO!”

Okay, is it me, or do I sound like a bratty eight-year old? What the hell does “Because I have to” or “Because I just do” even mean? Where’s the rationale or the logic? Answer: there is none.

            I saw a great indie flick this week called “Stuck In Love.”  One of the characters, Samantha (played by Lily Collins), is talking a mile a minute to a guy at a party about how she feels—about how we all live life in fast forward, never stopping to be in the moment. Samantha comments, “We’re too busy rushing through everything so we can get on with what we’re really supposed to be doing with our lives.” And she suddenly realizes that life is happening RIGHT NOW and one day it will all be over, so she’d better enjoy it while she can. For a moment, I felt like I was watching myself on the screen. Oh Samantha, you GET me! (I guess I should give props to the screenwriter, Josh Boone, too) I have expressed these exact sentiments numerous times. Was someone trying to tell me something?  Do I need to stop and enjoy the moment? If only it were that easy! Isn’t it John Lennon who said “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans?” Oh, what to do about those annoying TO DO’s…

            Nothing like the last day of the year to make a resolution! In 2014, I am going to make sure I am in the present moment at least once a day, and put that dreaded “To Do” list away for a few minutes—hopefully longer. “To Do’s” are always there—cross one off your list and another one will inevitably crop up in its place. But when a moment passes you by, nothing crops up in its place. It’s simply… gone.

But what about that self-imposed December 31^st writing deadline? Well you can’t totally teach an old gal, new tricks. I will make the deadline, and do something, though it won’t be enough to completely cross it off my list. “But you have TO DO it today,” says the Voice In My Head. Actually, I DON’T. “Shut the f*** up,” I calmly reply. Right now, I have some moments I need to enjoy!

Happy last day of the year, everyone!!! Hope you all find some time to enjoy YOUR moments...

Holy Hell… The Holidays Are Here (Again)!

            All of a sudden I get that angsty feeling in my body. My heart starts racing… and not in a good way. I imagine crowds of tourists and holiday shoppers, invading my streets and making it impossible to get to my place of work (which incidentally is in a park full of tourists and holiday shoppers).

            And whether or not this week kicks off the “official” start of the holiday season, I know the bitter truth. The holidays started back in September—at least that’s what the retail world would like us to believe. Perhaps this is part of the reason people don’t get as excited about the holidays as they used to. By the time they ACTUALLY arrive, we are over it. The only thing left to ponder is whether we want to hit the Black Friday or Cyber Monday sales, or simply avoid them altogether. I tend to go for third option. Commercialism, folks. Bah humbug!

While scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook, I noticed a friend’s status: “Remember when the holidays weren’t stressful?” That just made me doubly sad. Sad for my friend, but sad because I struggle with the same sentiment. Two other friends have already said they don’t plan on putting trees up this year. A coworker remarked last week, “I can’t wait til Jan 1^st. I just want it to be over.” Granted my coworker and I work in a restaurant and we feel the holiday push in a whole different way than your typical 9 to 5er. When I worked on Wall Street it wasn’t a question of whether I would attend a Christmas party, it was how many parties I would attend. It truly was a time to eat, drink and be merry. In the hospitality industry, we certainly EAT, but we’re busy helping other people drink and be merry—for as many shifts as possible until we feel we can’t stand up anymore. Tis the season to make money, after all.

Sometimes it just feels like the holiday season is about anything other than, well, the holidays. Especially when you have vendors cat calling to you, trying to push whatever they have for sale. By the way, Overly-Zealous-Man-Renting-Bicycles-At-Columbus-Circle, I am NOT interested in touring around the city on one of your vehicles. For the record, just because I am wearing a backpack, does not make me a tourist. Please let me take the subway to the LES so I can get my pants altered by my tailor in peace, okay?

And for me, the holiday season brings the added stress of my birthday… a birthday that happens to fall on the last day of the year. And no—it’s NOT great to have a birthday on New Year’s Eve, in case you were wondering. One of these days I’m going to punch some undeserving soul in the mouth for exclaiming for the umpteenth time, “It must be sooooooo much fun to celebrate your birthday with the rest of the world!” Uh, no… it SUCKS. If you want further explanation of my feelings concerning my birthday, feel free to read it here: http://dinalaura.tumblr.com/post/15002650690/my-birthday-vs-new-years-eve-and-the-winner-is-not

But wait… here I am bellyaching, when I stop and remember I actually LOVE the holidays. It’s a time of year when telling the people who matter to you that they… matter to you feels natural. (Truth be told, it always feels natural to me.) It’s a time to look around you and be grateful for the ones you love, who love you in return. Even within the holiday chaos there is always time to breathe in and out, and recognize we made it through another year and look forward to new beginnings in the year to come. As corny as it may sound, it’s a time to feel the love and to spread that love outward… from your closest friends to perfect strangers. Anybody remember Annie Lennox’s cover of “Put a Little Love in Your Heart” from the movie “Scrooged?” Hmmm… hope it’s not just me. The bottom line is I believe the holiday season is about finding the “holiday cheer,” even at moments when the Grinch in you wants to tell someone to piss off.

In tribute to the 8 days of Chanukah and the 12 days of Christmas, here are some things I LOVE about the holiday season (in no particular order):

1) Ice Skating!
2) Sweaters - To a New Yorker like me, nothing says “holidays” like cold weather and bundling yourself up in a comfy sweater.
3) Hallmark Holiday Movies - That’s right, baby. They are cheesy and predictable and I love every minute of them. In fact, I have a Hallmark movie day coming up with my pal Betsy in a couple weeks and I can’t wait.
4) Holiday Food - Deviled eggs, eggnog, turkey and stuffing, pie, pie and more pie!
5) Santa Claus - Yes this Jewish-raised girl loves the man in red. Perhaps my Italian father can account for this. What’s not to love about a jolly, fat guy in a red suit? And he comes with all those adorable reindeer… hello?
6) Holiday Decorations - Nothing beats a well-decorated Christmas tree. Wreaths, lights, garland… I love it all. And those front yards where the house is lit up so bright you can see it from several blocks away, just floor me. (I don’t wanna know what their electricity bill is!)
7) My Menorah - Of course I can’t forget my beautiful menorah! And when I remember to light it, even better!
8) Mistletoe - I know it’s technically a holiday decoration, but I felt it deserved its own category per my “spreading the love” comment earlier.
9) Holiday Parties - Even a server like me finds a moment to attend at least one party! (Rosie and Kira… I’m Ithaca bound soon, so get ready for another Bota Box!)
10) Holiday Music - Sorry, but I will never get sick of hearing Nat King Cole’s silky voice sing those famous lyrics: “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire.”
11) Holiday Cards - They are certainly more rare these days thanks to the Internet and our Facebook walls, but they haven’t disappeared altogether. Whenever I receive a card in the mail, it makes me smile.
12) The Beauty of New York City - Okay, I know as New Yorkers we get jaded, but how gorgeous is NYC during the holidays? Everywhere you look, the city is decorated from beautiful store windows on Fifth Avenue, to all the Christmas trees, lights and those signs hanging from the telephone lines that say “Happy Holidays!” It’s so amazing!

I hope everyone finds a moment to enjoy the holiday season and make your own lists of what you love about this time of year. And Overly-Zealous-Man-Renting-Bicycles-At-Columbus-Circle—I’m sorry if I gave you a dirty look. But I still don’t want to rent one of your bicycles!

Happy Turkey Day everyone!!!

I Can’t Live Without You… or Can I?

            Who’s texting me??? I HAVE to know!!! I am a woman possessed, compulsively reaching into my purse every ten minutes or so to check my phone. In an age where everything consumable is accessible from your fingertips, text messages are my kryptonite. Emails? Nah. Voicemails? Not so much. But text messages? I MUST have them and I must have them NOW! With texting, you know someone is thinking about you seconds after they have the thought. It’s instant gratification of the mind!

            You can only imagine, then, how I felt when I reached into my purse at work and discovered my iPhone 4s was M-I-A! And yes, I did say the iPhone 4s… I’m one of those gals who waits for her phone to die (or in this case go missing) before upgrading to the latest and greatest model. At first, I couldn’t believe it. In all my years of using cell phones, I had never lost one. My coworkers helped me look in every crack and crevice, as they simultaneously bombarded me with questions: “Are you sure you put your phone back in your purse?” “Did you carry it somewhere else and just forget about it?” “Do you think someone is playing a joke on you?”

My coworker Eddie, a technology junkie, is an avid PC devotee and thus, a Mac hater. Despite his disdain for everything Apple, he scoured the Internet on my behalf (via his Samsung Galaxy) and determined we could locate my phone via an application called Find My iPhone. “Does my ‘location services’ have to be turned on to use the application?” I asked. “Yes,” Eddie replied. “Oops,” I responded. “I don’t keep that on, because it drains my battery.” Bummer.

But Eddie the Relentless figured out a way to remotely force my location services to turn on from his phone. Voilà! The hunt for my iPhone was back in business. I watched the compass dial on the “Find my iPhone” app spin around and around… Guess where it landed? At my place of work! Unlike Elvis, it hadn’t “left the building.” Then where the hell was it? By the end of the night, the phone had not materialized and I went home, empty handed. I felt so isolated. Not because I couldn’t play Candy Crush, (which I don’t play by the way). It was like someone had unplugged me and I was completely disconnected from the world.  

All this angst made me wonder about the days when I didn’t even HAVE a cell phone. Wasn’t I fine back then? And wasn’t there a time when I used to write actual letters instead of sending an email? Friends used to tell me how much they loved my letters. “You sound just like the way you talk!” was a frequent comment. I used to write someone a long letter and by the time it was received, the uber-important fight I had described in minute detail, had long since blown over. Isn’t there something charming about that? And how about mailing someone a birthday/anniversary/get well card? Well, those were replaced by e-cards a while back, and these days I simply give the person a shout-out on their Facebook wall. Sigh. I write so infrequently with an actual pen that I no longer remember cursive. Do you?

When I started writing this blog entry, it was simply going to be a humorous anecdote that played out like an episode of “Monk.” I could call it “Mr. Monk and the Cell Phone Caper,” in which Adrian Monk solves the mystery of my absentee phone with his famous line: “Here’s what happened…” But somehow, the words weren’t coming. I realized I was struggling because my story wasn’t just about losing a cell phone. After all, I could replace it practically for free by extending my cell phone contract! No, what was bothering me was how much I had come to rely on this device and what that dependence said about me.

Cell phones have become like our IVs… our lifeline to the world. Or are they? During the 24 hours I was phoneless, I still met up with an old friend who happened to be in the city for the day. We had no prearranged plans; I didn’t even know he was coming to town. Despite that, he managed to track me down at my job, without my ever receiving a text message, an email or a voicemail from him. It made me realize that when someone really wants to contact you, they will find a way to do so. So I ask you—do we really need cell phones as much as we think? Or perhaps the real question is… do I?

Are you wondering what happened to my iPhone 4s? Eddie the Relentless continued to track the phone when he got home and I got an email from him at 3:00 a.m., telling me the phone was still at work and that he was going to bed. As my mom would say, “What a mench!” Several weeks later, the exact whereabouts of the phone is still a mystery, but I have since learned that I did not, in fact, lose it. I subsequently replaced my old model with the newer (though not the newest) iPhone 5. And while it’s nice to have a phone again, I somehow feel different. Don’t get me wrong—I still love my text messages! I just don’t feel the sense of urgency about them. I’ve discovered the people who want to reach out to me, will… one way or another. Perhaps the next step is to change the way I reach out to people. It might be time to break out my old stationary. Let’s just hope my handwriting is still legible...