
My ex-boyfriend used to have a summer home in Breezy Point, Queens. He’d tell me stories of the family gatherings which involved lots of homemade Italian food, boating, walks on the beach, sunsets, and Frank Sinatra. He told me about a time when they were playing “Summer Wind,” and they put their arms above their heads, waving them slowly, back and forth, laughing, (probably drinking) and singing along with the music, happy to have the whole family together as they celebrated summer on a beach where they built memories year after year. It was an escape from the hustle bustle of New York City, and a place to hide from the daily grind.
When I turned on the news Tuesday morning and saw the footage of Breezy Point up in flames, with 111 homes on fire or soon to be on fire, my mind immediately went to that memory, and I just starred at the TV screen in disbelief. … [Read More...]
Originally posted on September 17, 2010
This is Part Three of a true story that took place on 109th Street around ten years ago when I was living in Manhattan. I posted 109th Street (Part One) a couple of days ago and yesterday I posted Part Two. I am realizing that the story is way too long to continue posting in separate parts on this blog; it won’t read well if it’s all chopped up in pieces. So I decided to cut out some parts and edit it down to the end, and this is where I left off yesterday.
By the way, my sister was funny – she was teasing me the other day, asking me what this crazy story has to do with praying the Rosary. Technically? Nothing. But it’s the path in life I took that brought me to where I am now. This story, along with many others, was just another stepping stone on
… [Read More...]

The other day I posted this entry which is actually a repost from a three-part series I wrote back in the Fall of 2010. I’m continuing here with Part Two.
Originally posted on September 15, 2010
For those of you who haven’t yet read 109th Street, this is Part Two:
I wondered how my hot shot project manager boyfriend from the hot shot construction company could even allow us to live under conditions such as these. But I said nothing. I just took a lot of mental notes, not the least of which was the fact that Frankie’s boss, Vito, had, out of the goodness of his heart, allowed Frankie to move in to this rat hole, charging him half of the rent that he claimed he could’ve gotten from anyone else. I supposed that Frankie had wanted me to believe this was some kind of generous gesture on Vito’s part. Though he never said words to that effect, … [Read More...]

Lately I’ve been attempting to create a resume that best reflects my skills and talents, highlighting the most important aspects of my employment history dating back to the early 1990s. I thought the task would be a breeze, but I’ve been finding out otherwise. I seem to be caught between the job titles of Public Relations, Sales, and Writer and can’t quite figure out how to present myself in a way that will enable me to be marketable in a variety of fields.
I’ve been thinking back on the last two decades of my life, realizing that the stuff that has made up my life – and in the most veritable sense, I might add – isn’t exactly *resume material*, and certainly does not in any way represent the professional profile of a desirable job candidate in today’s world. In fact, as the memories pop to life from some dark, abandoned corner of my mind, I find myself all too … [Read More...]

Originally posted on September 10, 2010
It’s weird looking back at what I once thought was my big break. Back then I defined “success” as making money and being seen as a Somebody. I thrived on the illusion that being accepted by other people was all that mattered. I was blinded by my ego. I’m not saying that I was egotistical or anything. Actually, it was quite the opposite: I was painfully shy and insecure. So my ego was all I had (or so I believed) to keep me going and enable me to feel as if I was staying afloat. But afloat of what? I wish I could reach back in time and grab the hand of that silly girl I used to be and shake her into reality.
It was the Fall of 1989, and New York City was entering its pre-holiday season. Manhattan was transforming itself into a land of enchantment. The window displays along Fifth … [Read More...]
Throughout the years when I was caught up in the frenzied world of acting and modeling pursuits, I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing from one day to the next. My life was filled with ridiculous chaos and lack of true purpose. I should have been turning to Jesus for consolation and asking the Holy Spirit to provide me with the spiritual discernment that would have enabled me to spot (at least some, if not all of) the snags and pitfalls of my empty pursuits. Instead, I was aimlessly wandering from one dead end endeavor to the next and from one scam artist to another.
During those years, the Virgin Mary was a background idea in my life. Sure, I still kept her statue on or near my nightstand and I did hold her in high esteem. She was still who she had always been, only there was a difference in the way I … [Read More...]

Originally posted on September 3, 2010
When I was in my twenties and living in New York City, I learned very quickly what I needed to do when I was making the rounds. Making the rounds in the world of an actor or actress meant approaching agents’ and casting directors’ offices and slipping photos and resumes under their doors in the high hopes that you would eventually be called in for an interview or audition. DO NOT PHONE OR VISIT were the warning words posted on most of the doors with the intention of shooing away unwanted riff-raff (a.k.a. aspiring talent) that had the nerve to attempt contact.
I schlepped my shoulder bag of photos and resumes all over Manhattan, delivering my materials from building to building. One day it rained so hard my feet were soaked to the bone. And as I tripped in a dirty puddle on my way to the 42nd Street subway, I could feel the wetness seep into my … [Read More...]
Last night I had dinner with my sister Amy to celebrate our birthdays which are a day apart. She had been in a terrible car accident in June 2010, the same month I created this blog. In fact, one of my first posts the following month was about her car accident and a lesson I learned in seeing the glass as half full vs. half empty.
I was sitting across the table from Amy last night at an outdoor deck at an old favorite restaurant. She just moved back to this area less than a week ago, having been away for ten years. I was remembering how close she came to losing her life last year and how messed up things were for a while. She didn’t even celebrate her birthday last year, and yet, here we were last night, as if the whole nightmare of the car accident had never happened, talking and laughing and reminiscing – you know, … [Read More...]

Would you like to hear a crazy little (true) story about a New York Gangster? I’m in the mood for something a bit avant-garde today. And the reason I thought of this is because I read something on a blog discussing books and recommendations, etc. Anyway, it got me thinking about a book I hadn’t thought of in a while. And then that got me thinking about its author, whom I will call Donny DeLuca simply because I shouldn’t, can’t, won’t and wouldn’t DARE use his real name here! He was (is?) a New York gangster who went to prison and, while there, wrote a book about his mobster life. I had the pleasure/misfortune of connecting with Mr. DeLuca, and this is how it happened:
About 16 or so years ago, a shady modeling agency that I had stupidly hooked up with (another story for another day) had introduced me to this guy named Donny DeLuca. I didn’t actually meet Donny … [Read More...]

Ok, I guess we’re about due for a New York story. What can I say? New York is so much a part of my past, my youth, my life. I love it. I hate it. I miss it. As most of you regular readers know, I spent a good part of my life in New York City. And for all of the adversity it seemed to dump on me, there was an equal amount of magic and intrigue that it gave freely and willingly; all I had to do was knock on its door.
As a nanny who worked through an agency, I had the pleasure (and sometimes not the pleasure) of meeting all sorts of interesting people; parents and children alike. One day my agency booked me on a job at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. I was to be taking care of a little 1-year-old girl named Mackenzie. Her father was the banquet manager of the … [Read More...]