Tuesday March 23, 2006 01:27:09pm pst
The Miracle Of Magic
by Dana Weddle
I believe in magic. Yes magic. But I’m not talking about shitty dime store card tricks or magicians on stage with pretty girls and bunny rabbits. Not even good ole David Copperfield. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good spectacle as much as the next drunken Vegas audience member, but I believe in a different kind of magic. I believe in synchronicity. Synchronicity is defined as “a Jungian term for meaningful coincidences that have a low probability of happening at random or by chance”. There you have it. Things that happen at the same time that seem to be exactly what we need exactly when we need them. . . “with a low probability of happening at random or by chance”. They happen ALL the time. These “meaningful coincidences” could be written off by some as just dumb luck or being at the right place at the right time. Not me. I choose not to write things off. I choose to believe. In magic. Yep, I said it. Again. So deal.
My latest monumental run-in with magic happened right before Valentines Day. My boyfriend and I had conveniently broken up and suddenly I was left without a place to stay. I had also blindly started a business with him months before selling vintage clothes out of our home, so
I was also given the Valentines gift of unemployment. How romantic. No worries, though, since my automatic response to rejection is the ever-so-adorable “fuck you” attitude, I set out into the yet undiscovered by me world of Los Angeles with my head held high and pissed off. (Who ever knew there was life outside of Echo Park? You mean there are veggie restaurants other than The Brite Spot?) I was frightened and wounded, but I kept myself preoccupied and went into work mode. I have always been a ferocious go-getter, and I was determined to go get what I had been missing out on the past 6 months of my life. Whatever that was. Oh my god, what was it?
Luckily I had an improv show on the schedule for that night and looking forward to that kept my mind off of things momentarily. “So go. Go to the show. Do what you need to do right this second.” That’s all I kept telling myself over and over. Lying to myself masking my devastation
with practicality laced with a hint of livid.
Two suit cases and a bag of food later (we had just gone shopping and I wasn’t about to let him have my entitled three-fourths of the groceries and toilet paper) I set out for Improv Olympic feeling weary. Not knowing what to do, I called my friend who happened to be house
sitting for a friend of ours. Consistently positive and upbeat I trusted that she could help me find a solution. However, when she answered the phone I immediately sensed tragedy in her voice. “It’s over” she said, “he just left the apartment.” WHAT????!!!! “No way” I couldn’t believe
the parallel “Dumbshit and I just broke up. I have no place to stay tonight.” “You’re staying with me.” Simple as that. Let the magic begin.
Let’s just stop for a second to analyze the miracle in this situation. What are the chances that both of us on the exact same day at the exact same time lost the exact same thing and later find out it was for the exact same reasons? Answer: chance doesn’t exist. Magic does. Fucking
blows my mind.
So okay, I had a place to stay. And not only a place to stay, but a warm studio across town where you can see the sunrise every morning over the city through the big picture window away from all the negative energy and bad vibes with someone who loved me dearly and was ready to cry with me and didn’t care if there was nasty ass snot running down my face because
she couldn’t see through all the snot on hers. That’s a good friend. One you can snot with. I hope everyone has a friend to snot with. So while Snotty had some shit to sift through, I drove my new home down the road towards the theater looking for some of that good karma that I had
so strategically placed out in the world to come running back to me with open arms. Little did I know how ironic that thought would turn out to be. Dum dum dum. . . .
I felt like shit and I don’t normally drink caffeine, but I knew I needed a boost. I always park on Ivar and walk up to IO the back way. Normally I would stop in Caf Bore-me-to Death for a water and a vegan treat, but walking towards it something caught my eye. That something
was my bright yellow beacon in the darkness. . . a sign. . . a literal sign. . . literally a yellow sign that said- okay get this- it said- are you fucking ready for this? It said KARMA. Oh, Karma. Magical Karma. There you are. Of course you are. How could I not answer its call? So in I went totally clueless that my life was about to change for-ev-er. Let’s all take a minute to thank
good ole magic once again. Thank you magic. We knew you meant business.
So I approached Sassy McSasserpants at the counter who was immediately my best friend. She could sense the heaviness. Or maybe she just saw the snot. Either way, she was eager to help. I told her the short version of the story and she shot me an understanding grin. She was going through the same exact shit with her boyfriend. What the hell? MAGIC. So I
said I needed something hard. . . something stout. I could take anything at this point. So she suggested a spicy little number with chocolate and espresso (all a girl really needs in life) called -brace yourselves- the GOOD KARMA. Yep. Of course it was. What else could you name Magic?
Boom. Karma. Boom. New best friend. Boom. Chocolatey goodness. Wow. Stop it. Stop it now. Except don’t please. I need this.
After man bashing for a few, I had a brilliant idea. “Are you hiring?” “Uh, actually maybe. . . but we don’t have applications. Just bring your resume back and. . . “ But I couldn’t hear her over the blazing fire trail my ass made out to the parking lot to grab one of the resumes I JUST SO HAPPENED to magically have on the floorboard of my new house.
“Okay, so I’m gonna hook you up. You’re a friend of mine and you’re cute. I’ll have Bulldog call you ASAP.” Thanks Sassy. I mean MAGIC.
The next day he did and the day after that I was hired. Done and done. Whew.
Not only did I get everything I needed the very day I lost everything I had, but I kept getting more and more. The morning after the incident in addition to getting a call from my future boss I so wonderfully magically got a call from my future agent asking me for an audition. Wow. Snotty got a music development deal for her amazing singing and songwriting ability.
Sassy got a job as a make-up artist on a feature film. This all happened at the same time. With a low probability of being at random or by chance. Synchronicity. Wowee wow. My best friend got the siamese cat named Jack that he always wanted. Okay, so that’s unrelated. But the point is: I believe. Let’s just put that on the record. I will never not be a believer in magic ever again. I will never be cynical or skeptical ever again. I choose to leap and not look for a net because I know it will appear. It always does. As long as you believe. Thanks again magic. You’re going to heaven.
Tuesday March 14, 2006 02:28:36pm pst
My Last Day As Peter Pan?
from the diary of an expecting father
by Michael Laurino
She'd was a bit late that month and had a pregnancy test left over from the previous close call. A month prior, we had resigned ourselves to let nature choose our fate. A child was always a possibility, but not an inevitability. It was something we may have chosen down the line. Perhaps adopt. If by the time we were settled and ready we weren't actually able to conceive. What I mean is, it wasn't like we were sixteen and trying desperately not to get pregnant. (If that were the case it would have probably happened before you could say, “broken condom.”)
I had rehearsal in Santa Monica that day and she was determined to find out if she was ill due to bad fish or because there was a growing possibility inside her uterus. Thankfully her friend from D.C. was in town, so she didn't have to go through it alone, regardless of the color at the end of the stick. I really wish I could have been there at that very moment. It would have been interesting to compare the actual experience of getting the results versus all the commercials. I also wished I was a part of the initial whirlwind of emotions.
Instead, I was at a table reading of the play I had booked. Instead I was going crazy thinking about the message I got from her saying she wanted to come meet and talk. I had my own extended whirlwind of emotions. At that moment I knew. I knew she took the test. I knew it was a positive. I knew that our lives were about to change incredibly and forever. Needless to say I couldn't function let alone even think about the lines that were coming out of my mouth. I cleared it with the director to step out of the rehearsal so she could give me the news in person.
Who were we kidding? I knew, and she knew I knew. I think we just needed that commercial moment that we didn't have. Not surprisingly, even our top ad agencies and commercial actors have not managed to capture the mixture of terror, joy, pride, apprehension, terror, joy, excitement, fear, nerves, pins, needles, warmth, nausea pride and joy one feels after hearing the news that they will be fathering a new life. I can only equate it to stage fright.
I've only experienced stage fright once or twice in my life and that's the closest sense memory that I can equate with the news of impending fatherhood. I've been cast in a role for which I can't rehearse. I never even had to do that Home Economics Class’ egg experience that a lot of people do in high school (some teachers substituting an egg for a bag of flour, which seems a tad more realistic). Anyway, the feeling doesn't stop. Almost every action of every day is permeated by our baby’s arrival in June.
Everything we do is leading up to when we cease to be a couple and become a couple + baby. I'm really excited to meet my baby girl who's been kicking her mother to no end. In the year when both of us turn 30 we're bringing a new life into this crazy, often scary world, something that really changes your perception. Everything is so much more vital and important. My next gig, finding good representation, putting money in savings, the state of public schools, social security, health care, the environment, my wife's bonus, the war in Iraq. All of these things weigh a little heavier on the mind now.
For a long time I've had a bit of a Peter Pan complex. I'm not sure when I went from being a precocious child to being a stubborn man-child, but much has changed since that day, at least internally. My little girl will be here in 12 weeks and I'm trying to keep breathing and be the best husband and father I can. I'm scared, yes, but I'm also overjoyed. Right now my primary focus is to keep mother laughing, happy, healthy and well fed. She's now the two most important people in my life. Now is Peter Pan dead? No. He just grew up a little bit.
Thursdays at 9:00pm
Tuesday February 15, 2006 10:10:15pm pst
Me Vs. The Meringue
by Jenny Bies
I thought I'd share a story about my Valentine's Day with you all...
This Valentine's Day, I decided to do something that Mike wouldn't expect. Seeing as how I'm not a huge fan of doing anything in the kitchen, I decided to show my love to him by BAKING him a lemon meringue pie, his favorite.
The preparation started days in advance. I searched the internet for a long time, looking for that perfect recipe. A friend recommended the Food Network, so I found 5 recipes there. I read through each one, trying to figure out which one I felt I could handle. There was one recipe with an "easy" level of difficulty. To tell you the truth, it seemed so easy that I pushed it aside for a "medium" level one. But, as I read over them a few more times, I decided that it'd be better to have a good "easy" pie than just an ok "medium" one. I mean, I have a college degree, so I should surely be able to bake a pie that is classified as "easy," right?
The other factor that I needed to figure out was location. Mike is usually home on Monday nights, and I knew that he would know something was up if I asked him not to come home til late. I called in reinforcements and Colleen offered me the use of her kitchen, as well as her assistance. It was set. Monday night at 7pm, the baking would begin!
Mike called me shortly before I left work on Monday night to say that a girl at Karma got a kidney infection and he had to go in that night to cover her shift. So, in the end, my kitchen would be wide open, but I decided to go to Colleen's anyways. It'd be more fun to attempt this with some help!
I left work around 6:15pm and headed to the grocery store. It was much easier to find all of the ingredients than I thought it'd be...I was off to a good start! I headed to Colleen's house!
Finding a place to park at Colleen's house is often difficult. But, as I pulled up just after 7pm, I noticed that a nearby street allowed parking after 7, but not before. It was my lucky night! I was on a roll!
Colleen was already home and preheating the oven. She had to leave by 8:30pm or so, but according to the recipe, we could bake a pie and still hang out for an hour or so. It really was that quick and easy!
I bought the already made pie crust that only required baking. I felt that this was more "homemade" than buying a pre-made crust. Yes, all I had to do was bake it, but hey, that is an extra step! Little did I know it would be a hard step!
The crust was supposed to bake for 11-15 minutes or until golden brown. After 20 minutes, it was still the color of dough and bubbling up from the pie dish (even though I had followed the directions and firmly pushed the dough against the pie dish). We decided to wait a little longer- her oven is old, so we thought maybe it needed more time. After 40 minutes, we were in the same boat. Colleen called her mom in Illinois to ask for help. Even she was perplexed.
I pulled it out of the oven, not really sure what to do. I didn't have a backup crust. I broke off a small piece and we tried it. It actually tasted good and was flaky, so we just decided to go with it! Oh well that it wasn't golden brown!
I had already whipped up the lemon concoction. I felt good about it. It was easy. And I only suffered two physical injuries. One- I was squeezing fresh lemon juice and the juice seaped into my two fingernails that were really short. BURN! Two- As I was grating some lemon zest, my finger slipped and I almost zested my finger tip too! Luckily, it wasn't deep and I was able to go on.
We put the crust in the freezer for five minutes to cool quickly. A tip from Chef's assistant Colleen Kelly.
The lemon stuff was then poured into the pie shell. I was off to the final step.
The meringue.
I whipped the egg whites and cream of tartar by hand. Colleen assured me that I had achieved the soft peaks that were required. Last step was to stir in sugar. Now, here's where trouble came in. A few words of the recipe were cut off by the printer. Colleen and I tried to guess what it said, but then just made an executive decision that it wasn't too important. What a mistake.
So, I stirred in the sugar and it was a white liquid goo. I poured that on top of the lemon mixture in the crust and put it in the oven. In 12-15 minutes, I was supposed to have a beautiful pie!
Twenty minutes later, the pie still had white liquid goo on top, which also jiggled! We waited another 10 minutes before we officially declared it the oven's fault and decided to scrap it.
Since Colleen had to leave and Mike was at Karma, I decided to go home and make a second attempt. I ran to the grocery store to buy more condensed milk and lemons. I rushed home to finish it before Mike got home. I would have to wash all of the dishes and hide all evidence of any baking and I needed to allow time for that too.
I called Mike, just to make sure he was still at Karma. This is what he says "Yea, I'm here, but I'm about to head home. Jon split the shift with me and he just got here." NO! At this point I just said "Actually, I need some time to do some stuff. You can't come home for awhile." He played along and didn't ask questions. I told him I'd call him to let him know when it was okay. That was a close call!
I quickly put the crust in the oven to bake...voila! We had some browning of the crust! It only happened on the edges, but I was already off to a better start with Pie #2. I made the lemon mixture...still had the fingernail burn, but didn't grate any fingertips this time. I was becoming a pro!
And then the meringue...I made the same white liquid goo and poured it in the pie. I put it in the oven to bake and couldn't wait to see the beatiful white meringue rise. After 15 min, it was still jiggly goo. At this point, I was very disappointed and frustrated. What was going on here???
I reread the recipe. All of a sudden, it dawned on me as to what the missing words said. The printer cut it off at "Gradually beat in sugar until sti...Seal to edge of crust." Oh my God! It must say "Beat in sugar til STIFF!" I always assumed meringue became meringue by the baking process!
I didn't have enough ingredients to try a third pie, and at this point, it was after 10pm. So, here is what I did. I know it makes no sense. I pulled the pie out and scraped off the white goo. I added more cream of tartar and sugar, trying to make it stiff. I even got out the electric mixer. Nothing...still just white goo. I poured it back on the pie, baking it longer. I thought maybe I had mixed it enough and it would magically stiffen up in the oven. If only I had had more eggs...
At this point, I realized that the meringue won. Mike would not be getting a homemade pie from me for Valentine's day.
I called him to tell him he could come home. "You sound sad...what's wrong baby?" he asked. On the verge of frustration tears, I said "Just come home. You'll see."
About 15 minutes later, Mike rushed in the door. "What's wrong?"
Through tears and laughter, I pulled the pie out of the oven. I gave him a whole presentation and the play by play of the night's events.
He was very touched by all of my efforts and just kept hugging me while laughing. I started to laugh too. The whole night was just ridiculous. Clearly, the "easy" recipe wasn't so easy. Three and a half hours later and two failed pies.
On Valentine's Day, I went to Marie Callendar's and bought a lemon meringue pie for $5.99. That whole experience took about 2 minutes.
Ok, meringue- you win!
Lesson learned: It's the thought that counts.
|
Tuesday June 20, 2006 11:00:36am pst
Born in the U.S.A
To Trinity and Michael Laurino
Olivia Signé Marie Laurino
(a.k.a 'fussilli' or 'Laurinoccino Macchiato')
Born on Monday June 12 2006 at 6:49pm
Los Angeles CA
Quarterly Postings
A Poem. A Verse.
My Last Day As Peter Pan?
Me vs. The Meringue
A Valentine Matter
Baby Olivia
Community Theatre
Vol. I.I.
Karma Classifieds
Surgical Strikes
Tuesday March 15, 2006 01:35:36am pst
A Poem. A Verse.
A Hip-Hop Burst.
by Jon Beavers
IT'S BEAUTIFUL. BUT ONLY ON THE SURFACE.
EVERYTHING FOR SALE IS WORTHLESS.
BUT THE LIES THAT BE, DON'T WANT YOUR EYES TO SEE,
SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA RISE TO BREATHE.
INHALE SMOKE, AND EXHALE MEDIOCRITY.
WE SINK TO FULFILL THE PROPHECY.
BEHOLD THE CITY OF ANGELS HAS FALLEN DEMONICALLY.
A MONSTROUS METROPOLIS BECOME A MONSTROCITY.
THE BEAST OF SCARLET, AND THE DAUGHTER OF HARLOTRY.
BORN TO MOTHER VANITY AND FATHER HYPOCRISY.
BUT I'M INCOMPLETE 'TILL I'M A STAR ON HER STREET,
I COMPETE TO CONCRETE MY ASTROLOGY.
SHE'S CALLING ME...
LIKE "COME HERE BOY! DON'T YOU WANNA TAKE A WALK WITH ME?"
TOP OF MULHULLAND, WE'RE LOOKING DOWN ON ALL HER PROPERTY.
SAYS I CAN HAVE IT ALL IF I JUST FOLLOW HER POLICY.
AND NEVER COUNT THE COST OF WHAT'S LOST IN THE DEBAUCHERY.
BIG SHOTS'LL WANNA TALK TO ME.
SHE'S GOT MY BACK, I'M TOP HAT IN THIS MONOPOLY.
IF I JUST SWALLOW MORE OF THIS GOMORRAH, THIS SODOMY.
AND PRAY TO GOD IT DOESN'T TAKE A "LOT" TO WIN THE LOTTERY.
then... BOOM!!! THUNDER CLAPPED AND TIME STOPPED FOR ME.
AND SOMEBODY ADJUSTED MY CEREBRAL OPTOMETRY.
MY MIND'S EYE WAS OPENED, EXPOSING THE MOCKERY.
I SAID, "BITCH, QUIT THAT SHIT! YOU NEED TO GET 6 O'CLOCK ON ME!"
SHE VANISHED... AND SUDDENLY IT WASN'T HARD TO BREATH.
AND I WAS MILES HIGH, BIRD'S EYE ABOVE THIS SMOGGY SEA.
AND I COULD SEE THIS "KINGDOM" OF THE WESTERN PHILOSOPHY.
WAS REALLY JUST A GRID THAT WAS LOCKING ME.
AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL. BUT ONLY ON THE SURFACE.
EVERYTHING FOR SALE IS WORTHLESS.
BUT THE LIES THAT BE, DON'T WANT YOUR EYES TO SEE,
SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA RISE TO BREATHE.
Press & Video Room
Tuesday February 14, 2006 2:12:37pm pst
A Valentine Matter
by Duffy
"Oh, no!" "What?" "Oh, man, $&*^" or some other choice explicative comes tumbling out of the mouth about seven days out from this day. The blood surges and your eye's dart around the room, what am i going to get for my Valentine? Or maybe that's just me, says Mark Aldrech a long time friend of Karma Coffeehouse. "I'm always panicking when it comes to that damn holiday."
A day many believe to be the best day to express your love and affection for your significant other. "A day ment only for couples!" shouts a guest of Karma Coffeehouse early last week. "Why is it that there should be a day that requires me to buy my love?" Andrea Martin concludes.
Ms. Martin worries there is a growing connection between loving and trading for goods. "First of all, this so-called holiday is designed to pray on the insecurities that already exist in relationships. Those feelings of will the person really love me for who I am? Will they accept me? This holiday..." as she madly gestures "tells people that they should be buying something to make their love clear. And if you don't or I don't then you don't love me or aren't worthy of being loved."
"What?" Exclaims Todd Green, a regular Karma guest. "Valentine's Day is a business holiday, yes. But it's also a day that thoughtfully reminds us not to forget were we can draw our strength from. Partners in this so called life are hard to find. Hard indeed. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a significant other to share their daily lives with. And when we come upon it we should seize the opportunity to celebrate that connection, that bond, that love between you and another. Why not on Valentine's Day? Why not with some flowers and or a nice car?"
"That's my point exactly!" retorting wildly Ms. Martin gathering herself and suddenly softening to Mr. Green. "Look I'm on board with some flowers maybe some chocolates, but other than that, I think your trying to bribe me. Or that In order to show just how attractive I think you are I need to buy something for you. That to me is absurd. Really in the end I only want the hugs and kisses. The quiet times and naps in the afternoons"
"The hang time on the front porch. A movie." Mr. Green finishes her thought. "Right" an even softer Martin replies. "And after dinner runs to the ice cream shop."
It seems as though the holiday will stay and so will the debate, but stay tuned. Maybe Ms. Martin and Mr. Green have a future. Maybe the day doesn't matter. Maybe the presents don't either. But it's clear the Love does.
Wednesday Nights 9pm
Tuesday January 24, 2006 5:23:37pm pst
Introducing Baby Olivia
by Duffy
"Starting to look a little more like a person. In fact, she has my legs." wrote, New Dad To Be, Michael Laurino in some previously unreleased insider memos to his old high school compadres.
Laurino and his wife Trinity have just moved to an undisclosed location to prepare for birthing rites. Mike Duffy, proprietor, has been known to fraternize with the Laurinos. Rumour has it Duffy helped them move. Our sources tell us that Dan Tobin, a former executive and, still at-large, has not been seen at the new two-floor townhouse, in Hollywood on the day of moving or since. Word has it that Tobin communicates secretly through his web blog. However, officials have been unable to come up with any coherent translations.
We here at Karma Coffeehouse Quarterly will you keep you posted on the latest developments approaching Olivia's release in early June 2006.
Here it appears as though Olivia is doing
summersaults at the thought of getting out
in early June.
|
