"Your show mattered--It's what got me here"- A "Reel" Story

I started this blog over a year ago with an intention of following the "reel" in New York City. My blog often features posts about real-life struggles, inspiring moments, and comical outbursts. This post is a return to the root of the blog, as I returned to the "reel" world yesterday to get a glimpse at what I one day too hope to be a huge part of: the fictional television world.

If I had been on my A-game yesterday when I had a few minutes of opportunity to speak with Hilarie Burton, I think I may have told her that the show One Tree Hill, of which she was a major character on, made all the difference in the direction and path I chose.

Realizing how difficult it is to write story-lines, continue story-lines, and cut story-lines when necessary, I fell in love with the television show. I often thought to myself, "Where do Mark Schwahn and his writers get it from? Who granted them this gift?" And it inspired me to want to write--a lot. And then it inspired me to want to write for television and film a lot. And then it became clear to me that despite many people's beliefs that television can hurt the mind--it was really the only thing that directed me in the path that I wanted to go.

I only hope that I can create a story-line that people cherish and love as much as Peyton and Lucas--or a story-line as epic as the romance between Nathan and Haley, or a conflict so endearing as the one between father and sons.

While I didn't use any cheesy renditions of quotes from One Tree Hill, I did have the chance to speak with Burton, while she was taking a break from the White Collar set. We talked about her production company, how difficult it is to walk in heels, New York City, Wilmington, NC where I recently visited, and the eye candy she gets to work with. It was one of those chances to speak to someone that you really don't want to blow by losing your cool.

Fortunately, I had met the production manager who introduced us during rehearsal and he and I were able to chat about the industry, where it's been and where it's going. We were also able to discuss White Collar, how the shoots differ from other shoots, and how much shooting is left for this season. Like many days last year, when I checked out the sets of Law and Order SVU and Gossip Girl, it made a great learning experience--and again, only got me much more excited about the path that I have chosen and intend to continue on for a long time.

"The world is full of magic, you just have to believe in it"

"The world is full of magic, you just have to believe in it."

I had my real best friends growing up--and then I had Joey Potter, Topanga Lawrence, and Brooke Davis to teach me about hardships--getting through the tough times--and moving on to the good times. I had the creek outside of Dawson's house, the playground in which Cory and Topanga reconciled their love, and I had the river court in a fictional town called Tree Hill to escape to. And--boy did I escape.

It's been six years, and eight seasons, since I first left reality and stepped foot on the river court. And this weekend, I stepped onto the river court--for real.

And while the magic of the lights, the camera, the action wasn't there--the magic that the river court itself had on me--was.

Rather than a light shining down on Lucas Scott and Nathan Scott squaring off in one on one basketball match, the sun beat down illuminating my own aspirations, my own memories, my own moments of tranquility and passion and love. I believe we all have a place that works like this, for us. We all have a place that we have spent seconds on--minutes on--hours on, just dreaming of a bigger future, one that shines the same way our best fictional friend's dreams do on the television screen. It could be the side of a mountain that we climb when we need to get ourselves off the ground. It could be the first art studio we painted in. It could be the kitchen we cooked our first full course meal in. It could be the tree house we built in the middle of the woods to hide out in when our parents got angry and called us by our middle name. It could be anywhere.

For me--it's my little league baseball field, where on many occasions the bright light was the sun that did shine as my team won or lost baseball games, where I got a base hit or struck out, where I caught a fly ball-or made an error. Like the river court, for the fictional characters, my baseball field acted for me as an analogy to life--with ups and downs, proud moments and errors, home-runs and strikeouts. And no matter the moments I spent there--good or bad, I never stopped dreaming there.

Standing in the middle of the river court, in which the hoops have been taken down (so as for fans not to steal them), I am reminiscent of a time that I sat alone on my old little league baseball field--staring at the mound, the one I used to stand on. Despite it's tiny slope, it's the highest point on the ball field. And whenever I stepped foot on it--I felt on top of the world. That still happens now.

And that reality is better than any fiction.

Wedding Bells--Wedding Bells--Wedding all the way

Some days, you wake up, you brush your teeth, you turn on the hot water, and you go through the motions. And some days, you wake up, you brush your teeth, you turn on the hot water, and you smile about what's ahead, what possibilities the day may have, and even what possibilities the future may have.

This is the experience that I had on the day following my brother's wedding in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. Beaming with happiness, Ted and Katie walked down the aisle together as Mr. and Mrs. Segal at nearly 4:45. Their arms were linked in one another's and their smiles extended past the end of the longest pew. Nothing was going to come between them on this lovely, beautiful day that provided an abundance of sunshine, and scenery.

The ceremony, the reception, and the after-party all reminded me of a song that I recently heard at a songwriter's night down at the Duplex in New York. The man sang of how he hoped his wedding day, which was a pretty glorious day, was actually going to be the worst day of his life, so that all the moments afterwards were ones he could only look forward to with joy in his heart. And he's right--just think, if a day as good as your wedding day is the worst day of your life, as of forward, then it's going to be a pretty wonderful ride.

I hope like Ted -- and Katie, her parents, my parents, and sister and her husband, I can only find someone to spend that day with.

Here's to love...and weddings...and happiness.

New York State Invests Stock in Love: Richest State in the Country

.Fourth grade history books lie.

At least mine did to me. No, not the teachers. The books. The chapters. The sentences. The words. They all lied. My fourth grade books told me that the Civil War was all about black vs white (nothing else) and that at the end of that war, several assassinations later, and one huge dream, we were starting a new fad called: Anti-Discrimination. The books tell us that people began to learn how to treat one another--how to live in a better world...a better country, where each man and woman could live equally. The books lied.

I should have known as a chubby little fourth grader who was teased for my less-than-petite size at the age of eight that judgement and being treated differently was completely here to stay. I should have known that when one kid was made fun of for the way he dressed, another for the way she combed her hair, and another for being adopted that judgement and discrimination was still being handed down from generation to generation. I should have known that the books were full of shit and that America's hands were still dirtied of discriminatory and derogatory words, slurs, phrases, jokes, and insults--that those who aren't white still suffer--that those that didn't fit "the mold" were still being judged--I should have known and the books should have said so.

There should have been a full chapter on the still very real existence of discrimination in our country--both seen and unseen. (Ie. Think about privileges you might have that others may not have--hidden privileges- EXAMPLE: Me, as a white female, has the "hidden" privilege of not feeling threatened or targeted a terrorist on a plane. Others don't have those privileges--we call them hidden discriminations. See how many you can come up with.)

Of course over time I have discovered much of this discrimination through experience and classes. I've seen friends and acquaintances who have dated members of another culture or skin color be looked down upon or reprimanded for their "actions." I've seen people judged to be "terrorists" because of their matched culture description to those printed in the media following 9-11. And I've seen the LGBT community spit on and frowned upon through disgusting slurs and rants.

With the help of a college course, during my senior year, I continued to discover more biases (like the hidden privileges as aforementioned). I probably should have had a class similar to that one--in elementary school.

Bias. Judgement. Failure to have an open mind. Discrimination. It is all around us.

HOWEVER, this weekend, at 1am on June 25th, 2011, New York state made a jump--took a leap and showed that even if bias and discrimination are going to continue on other levels, that this state is not going to be a tag-team partner in the ring when it comes to marriage equality rights--that this state will not continue to partake in discrimination when it comes to civil rights--when it comes to something bigger than life sometimes--when it comes to a wonderful thing like love.

If you are a little lost, and I hope you aren't, New York state passed the law for legal marriage rights for the LGBT community.

(Cake is at LuLu in Manhattan on 8th between 15th and 16th)

It has been a long battle, and people all over the country have been fighting for this right in their states and other states, for a long time. As New York states takes their side, it's hopefully time for other states to follow suit--to take notice, engage in less discrimination and put a ring on the finger of same-sex marriage.

If only each person could see all the pride, just alone in the wonderful city of NYC, after this historic and triumphant moment in America, they would see that investing stock in love--for all, would yield the richest states--the richest country in the world.

The Anatomy of 8 Million Dreamers

Every now and then a song speaks to us–and it speaks for us. It captures exactly what our hearts are feeling but are unable to say. It brings a tear to our eye, a smile to our face and a memory to our soul. It touches us, and we feel it with every ounce of our flesh that covers our body. And even though we know it wasn’t written for us, we know it doesn’t matter, that we can feel anything we want to feel when we hear it–as if it was written by our own hearts.

Every time I hear or listen to a song about New York City, my heart flutters. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t grow up here–or that I didn’t experience the trials and tribulations–the crime or the craziness–the soot or the sadness. All that matters is every time I hear a song about New York, I am reminded of the rush I feel each time I sit in Grand Central, or of the flood of excitement I have, each time I meet a new person, or of the disdain I have for the work day commutes (Ha), and, lastly, of course I am reminded of the passion and love I have for each nook and cranny in this city.

Each day that I was in Italy, I called New York City my home–and it’s no wonder–I have never felt more home than in the moments I have spent sitting in the subway trains; or in the moments that I have spent chatting over coffee at my favorite shop (Bourbon–14th street and 5th); or in the moments that I’ve spent on the Brooklyn Bridge; or in the seconds that I have spent in dodging tourists in Times Square. I have never felt more on top of the world than in the moments I stare out my 26th floor work window at the dazzling skyscrapers that reflect off of one one another in the night time glow. And I have never felt more relieved, relaxed, or comforted than in the moments I have spent with the friends that I have found, the talent that I have encountered, and the family that I have made here.

You know, they say if you let something go and it comes back–then you know it’s real love…well I left for a bit, three months…and I came back. In fact, it was nearly hours after I heard Empire State of Mind (II), by Alicia Keys, for the first time, that I made my decision to come home, months earlier than I had planned.

Like songs–I want this video to have captured what I feel each time I walk down an alley way–a street–or a set of subway stairs as well as what I feel each time I see or meet a stranger or watch a talented street performer. I wanted this video to play out like all the songs I hear that cause a tear to shed or a smile to cross my face each time I hear it, and think of this city. I wanted this video to speak what was on my heart while looking into the hearts of others–I wanted this video to dissect the anatomy of the dreamers that live in this city–that breathe this city–that love this city. Because really–if they can make it here–they can make it anywhere. I hope you enjoy:

Momma always said, "Never Talk to Strangers..." I say just don't take candy from men in white vans...

My mother always told me never to talk to strangers. That was pretty high up on the “don’t do list,” right along with, “don’t ride your bike to a pharmacy at 8:00 am without my permission.” Because—Yes I did that on multiple occasions, with my next door neighbors, until we got caught. We weren’t buying drugs…well…we weren’t buying illegal drugs—just enough caffeine and sugar to get us to the next sun rise.

When my mom found out that I had been sneaking off with the boys, I was punished for a length of time that felt like centuries. Thank god that punishment didn’t deter me from going against my mother’s rules for the rest of my life…because I’d never have many of the friendships or networks that I currently have now.

You see, I learned much too quickly that if you never talk to strangers, you’ll never make new friends—and that is especially true in what I consider to be my home now: New York City.

As I turn to my left, a man with a Bruins hat smiles as he watches people walk by. I ask if he is from Massachusetts. Of course he is. But I ask anyway. “I grew up there.” “Congratulations,” I say, “That Stanley Cup, it was a long time coming.” We continue talking for a few moments and then bask in the sunlight.

I turn to my right and a man’s Iron Man drawstring bag is exposed for passer-bys to see. I reach out and ask if he has ever ran one.

“3, actually,” he modestly says without breaking a stride in his facial expression.

We continue to speak for fifteen minutes—me in awe of his accomplishments—him attempting to convince me that a triathlon is definitely in my future. We laugh. We compliment one another’s accomplishments. We talk some more. And then we exchange business cards, and not before long…he is on his way.

Strangers.

Strangers are amazing people. They can teach you about life, about an event, or about yourself—and in a brief moment, they can become your friend.

A good friend of mine from college recently pointed out that I have this ability to get along with anyone, to reach out, to spark a conversation, to laugh, to make a joke, with just about anyone that I meet. It’s the exact reason why she never worries about bringing new friends of hers out to meet me. In fact, I’ve even begun spending time with her friends, while she’s away for the summer. Why? Because they’ve become my friends too. And that’s why I love people—and why I love talking to people, and why disobeying one of the world’s most golden rules, is the best decision I continue to make on a daily basis.

Because that’s what life is about—meeting people, connecting with people, forming friendships, forming relationships, creating bonds—imagining together—developing life-long dreams with.

I say: Talk to all the strangers in the world because you never know what he or she will do for you—or what he or she will become to you. Strangers really are just friends we haven’t met yet.

….But if you do happen to be under 15 and a stranger in a white van offers you candy, please, please, please…Just say no.

There's No Place Like Home

Opening Red Ruby Scene, Follow the Yellowbrick Road and Closing scene are all part of the original Wizard of Oz. Using in accordance with Fair Use.