Get Crafty

When I met Alice Ripley at the stage door of Next To Normal in Shubert Alley back in 2009, an aspiring young actor asked her for advice. Unlike many who respond with encouraging cliches, Ripley offered advice of substance: Do something creative...with your hands every day. The only way to tackle this life is through creativity, and you have to exercise your creative muscle.

Although I was a musical theater kid growing up, a career in acting is not my pursuit. Nevertheless, I think Alice was on to something. There is an element of creativity and innovation in any career, quite frankly, but more importantly creativity is an ingredient in a successful and happy life.

After all, if we’re not consistently trying new ways to improve ourselves life would be boring.

This past week, I rediscovered what it is like to forfeit technology in favor of crafts. As a member of the Urban Girl Squad, I decided to sign up for my first Volunteer event. I devoted a couple of hours to Only Make Believe, an organization dedicated to bringing theater and performance to ailing children in hospitals.

What is theater without costumes? So, I spent my early Thursday evening designing and crafting medallions (decorated CDs) that the kids could wear as character jewelry in their play. Sifting through buttons, sticking to glue, slicing through felt and stitching ribbon, I realized how long it had been since I did arts & crafts.

When I was little, I had a couple of friends who weren’t allowed to watch television or play electronic games. When I went over for a playdate to their house I always dreaded the hours without the audio-visual stimulation. Yet, once we dug into the paint or pottery or yarn, I had the best time!

It may not have been quite that long since I’ve dabbled in crafts, but there is something both soothing and empowering about using your hands for creativity that I had forgotten. It feels productive. It feels simple. It’s fun. A little unpredictable. I was just grabbing materials and throwing things together to see what would come of it.

My thought was more freeflowing, less planned—which was relaxing. I found this large round button of tan leather, and immediately thought “that looks like a snout” so I made a pig based on that one button. It was an exercise in free association.

After this small taste of craftiness, I made the trip to Michael’s crafts to buy some materials for a project I have been thinking about for a long time. In college, I used to tack my Broadway show tickets to my wall. I save them all. Well, I no longer want to just sticky-tack paper to my walls—I’m not an undergrad anymore. But, I do love my tickets. So I’m going to make ticket collages and frame them for my walls.

My collages will add a dash of color and a dash of theater to my adult New York room. Not to mention, just as any good design-for-tv-show host will tell you ‘art is more special when you make it yourself.’

Crafts don’t have to be complicated. In fact, the simpler the better. Turn off the noise. Instead of lounging on the couch, or tapping on your iPhone, tap into your own creativity.

Good Art Need Not End Badly

There are a few things about the theater nowadays that bug me: a wasted theater ticket, the resulting empty seat, people who arrive in jeans, t-shirts and new balance sneakers, cell phones that ring during the show, people talking like they’re at a basketball game instead of a show. But of all these things, nothing truly upsets me more than a fantastic piece of theater closing far too soon.

This past Thursday, my brother was super awesome and grabbed me an extra student rush seat to Lysistrata Jones. This show should NOT be closing.

I’m having terrible deja vu from a year ago when The Scottsboro Boys closed. At the very least, I understood the closing of The Scottsboro Boys. While it was a brilliant and touching show, pumped with talent that ripped up the stage, many argue that the production didn’t have wide enough audience appeal.

The same cannot be said for Lysistrata Jones.

Cleverly written by Douglas Carter Beane, the book of Lysistrata Jones loosely follows Aristophanes’ classic play about the woman who stopped the Peloponnesian War by persuading the wives and lovers of the soldiers to withhold sex until the men agree to halt the fighting. (For those of you who didn’t know that brief synopsis of the story of Lysistrata, consider yourself educated. You should know this.)

In Lysistrata Jones, transfer student Lysistrata Jones convinces her girls to “give up giving it up” until their basketball-playing boyfriends win a game. Now it’s not their skills that have prevented a W for the past 33 years, it’s their sheer lack of trying. Their approach to life is “whatever.” And while this cheesy-sounding plot sounds like it could be just whatever, it carries its weight in cultural relevance, heart and a provocative message.

Lyssie J (played by the ridiculously talented Patti Murin) wants to feel inspired. She wants to feel passion. She is sick of people in her life giving up. And therein lies the brilliance of the show. While it just seems like a stupid basketball record, Lysistrata Jones proves that there are no small issues. Murin infuses her Lyssie J with a perky relentlessness and sincerity that proves laziness in one discipline translates to laziness in life.

Yet, DCB delivers this substance amidst spot-on jokes about iPhones, Kim Jung Il, and our tech-obsessive culture. He even inserts a smattering of intellectual humor (the basketball team happens to be the Athens University Spartans) mounted on the poppy background of Lewis Flinn’s catchy songs.

The cast, a slew of Broadway ingenues just making their break, execute every moment with explosive energy. Dan Knechtges choreography is a gratifying mix of hard-hitting cheer moves and classic musical theater choreo. Finally, a new Broadway show with fresh, peppy dance numbers!

And thanks to Knechtges direction, each actor creates a clearly defined character that feels more like a person you went to college with than an empty caricature more often found on the stages of late. Jason Tam captures your heart with the nerdy sensitivity of his character Xander and his sinewy tenor. LaQuet Sharnell brings just the right amount of sass before she blows the roof off the house with her insane belt in act two’s “Don’t Judge a Book.”

From Kat Nejat’s (Cleonice) comedic timing, to Alexander Aguilar’s (‘Uardo) hard-hitting moves to Liz Mikel’s (Hetaira) dominating presence, the whole cast makes you say “Wow.”

The show is relatable. It’s silly and smart all in one package. It’s fun and sexy and the perfect amount of shocking.

I wanted this show to be the new Spring Awakening. Not in the way of another dark show about teen angst, but in the way of a shocking surprise hit of a musical that makes stars out of their newbie-ish actors (see: Lea Michele, John Gallagher Jr., Jonathan Groff). Sadly, as it has already closed, that is not to be.

This is only because not enough people were going out to see it. So get your butt to the theater! Go see a show whose name you can’t pronounce! Climb out of your box and go see worthwhile art! But please, please, don’t upset me and let another fabulous new show with incredible potential close long before it should.

Belonging in the New Year

What are you doing New Year’s? Where will you be when the ball drops on New Year’s? Who are you going to kiss New Year’s? So much conversation leading up to the one night we kiss one year goodbye and say hello to the next one, when in the blink of an eye it’s 2012.

Over the years, I’ve found that the key to New Year’s is low expectations for maximum enjoyment. That’s not to say I don’t like to have fun. But, if I don’t plan for New Year’s to be the most eventful night of the year then New Year’s is just a fun night out. After all, how much of a bummer would it be if the first night of the year was the best?

I prefer to have more to look forward to.

All this said, I do like to celebrate New Year’s with a group of people I love.

Family tradition dictates that we take a trip to Mohegan Sun Casino on New Year’s Eve Day (aka December 31). This year, that day was Shabbat, so we went on Friday. My mom and I love to shoot craps.

Of all the casino games, craps is definitely the most fun—it’s easiest to make friends. My mom and I love to make friends on the crap table. Unlike other games, everyone is playing together against the house. All of the players around the table root for the same outcome. We scream and yell when the shooter—or shootress, as I was dubbed—rolls a number, and collective groaning when the dice crap out. You depend on each other’s rolls to make your money and it’s a never-ending game. Unless you are completely antisocial, you are bound to make some friends.

In fact, New Year’s 2010 my mom and I ended up singing Kumbaya around the crap table. Like a said, it’s a communal game. It was a great precursor to New Year’s.

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, I went to synagogue with my family. It was comforting to return back to a place I have always felt is home. A rainy morning, only the Shabbat regulars attended the routine morning service. But it felt right to be with the people who watched me grow up, come back to my roots, as I was about to start another year on my own in New York.

How fitting that the rabbi’s sermon was about community. As he talked about creating a greater sense of community within our synagogue, I couldn’t help but think about New Year’s. It made so much sense. I have always spent New Year’s with my family, simply because I want to ring in the new year and wake up in the new year surrounded by people I love.

I have always found that what I do on New Year’s is less important to me than who I spend it with.

While this year I didn’t spend New Year’s Eve with the fam, I did spend it with a community of close friends in my building—making home a place full of people I know, love and have fun with. I welcomed the new year with a community of people I had worked to build bonds with in 2011; a perfect transition to 2012.

So even though December 31 was not the most exciting night ever, it was one full of friendship with a toast to belonging to a community.

Yup, I think I rang in 2012 just right.

"Oy Humbug"

Back in high school there was a little known California drama in which a Jewish Orange County family took in a troubled non-Jewish teen. And so, by the word of Seth Cohen, Chrismukah was born. I think the Santa hat yarmulkes were my favorite part.

I do love the idea of a fusion of Christmas and Channukah—not because religiously I would observe both, but I’ve found that living in America I really do celebrate a hybrid of the two: Channukah and the Jewish version of Christmas.

I’m not just talking Chinese food and a movie. In fact, I opted for sushi this year.

The world seems to shut down, or at least slow drastically, between Christmas and New Years. The combination of winter cold, shopping exhaustion, and the time off from work in the name of Jesus’ birthday inspires peace, tranquility and a bit of cheer. Quite frankly, I’m ok with it. I’ll take time to shut down and reboot anytime. Human hibernation.

Over the years, I’ve been conditioned to need this rejuvenation at Christmas time. From school vacation to college winter breaks and now a week off from work, Christmas has become equivalent to relaxation.

I love to come home and lay around in pajamas all day long with my family and watch movies from morning until night. I know, it sounds like a lot of wasting days. But the truth is, this kind of time spent is well worth it. After a year of hard work, I needed to give my body a chance to relax, my brain time to recharge.

The best part, despite the fact that I do not gather around a Christmas tree with my family, I do get to see them. With both my brother and sister home from college, all five of us get to be together—a rarity.

This year, Christmas and Channukah coincided! I got to light the menorah with my whole family. Even though Channukah involves a less elaborate tradition than Christmas, it felt homey and comforting to feel the warm glow of candles on all five of our faces.

It was also fun to be able to exchange gifts on Channukah. Unlike my non-Jewish compadres who spend weeks and weeks buying out all of Fifth Avenue, we opt for a more subdued gifting scene. Now not to criticize, but I do think there is something to the way I approach gift-giving season. Rather than aiming to reach a money quota—as in, I will spend $100 on you and you will spend $100 on me, now let me run around like a crazy person making sure I find enough gifts to reach my quota—I like to buy presents with a thought value. And people enjoy receiving a present with thought value.

For my brother, the theater addict, I popped into the Drama Book Shop (40th between Seventh and Eighth Aves). Specialty stores like this are the best. I could have bought anything in the store and he would have been thrilled. I happened to find Playbill’s 2012 calendar, one Playbill each month. He was so excited.

Remember: at the end of the day, it’s just about putting a smile on someone’s face. Personally, I think this is true for birthdays, Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Gift-Because-I-Feel-Like-It Day. You get my drift.

It may be a cheesy line worth of the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, but this time of year really is about cherishing moments with your family. Christmas, Channukah, Chrismukah or just some down time around the Winter Solstice, this time of year is made for calm. So sit back, relax and let the New Year roll in.

And maybe, just maybe though, find some time during the year to add a little Christmukah—in the form of a thoughtful gesture, rest and revitalization, or family time—to your life.

Lessons Learned

Two weeks ago, I received a phone call from a former teacher and close friend of mine.

He called to ask a favor of me. Marc rarely asks for favors.

Marc asked if I would nominate him for the a nationally renowned teaching award.

It was an honor to be asked. Of all of the students that Marc has taught, inspired and helped to grow up, the fact that he asked me to nominate him was a privilege.

I first officially met Marc at the age of 13, as I shook with nerves auditioning for the West Hartford Summer Arts Festival’s production of Mame in 2002. As musical director of the program at the time, Marc had a reputation for excellence—a reputation he still holds today. As soon as I was eligible, I auditioned for because I wanted to learn from Marc.

Now at the age of 23, I can only say how blessed I was to have been cast in the ensemble to begin my journey of years under Marc’s tutelage. Over the years, Marc was my summer director and my school-year teacher.

The nomination rules call for me to describe how one teacher changed the course of my life in a single moment of inspiration. Five hundred words to describe how this man changed my life. Awesome.

I decided the most effective strategy would be to spill out every thought on paper and whittle the essay down. Looking back on all the lessons, all of the moments, it was difficult to pinpoint one.

As I wrote about Marc, I realized how much I have grown as a person since I sat in his classroom. Because I sat in his classroom.

In every rehearsal, Marc settled for nothing less than perfection. He taught me about investment in oneself. He fought for me to give nothing less than 100 percent of myself every time I sang. He taught me to be present in the moment.

While I strove for perfection, he also taught me to enjoy the process and not work so hard. I know, I know. It sounds contradictory. In rehearsal you have to work and put in effort and focus. But at a certain point, you have to let go and allow yourself to feel and experience the music. Marc taught me to balance the two—to work towards a goal and to allow the results to come to me.

He helped me discover determination, passion, self-awareness and self-confidence.

Marc led me to another discovery when he asked me to write his nomination letter. He gave me the gift of retrospection.

As I reflected on his lessons that stuck with me, I remembered the ingredients that melded to make me. I am hugely pleased with the letter I submitted to the judging committee, but it was the process of writing that essay that was most valuable.

Take the time to recall a person who changed your life. Remember how they changed it. Reflect on the work it took to get to who you are and then let go and allow yourself to be that person.

Perhaps during the holidays, you may even take the time to write down who influenced you. Thank that person. Publicly, privately, it doesn't matter. Every now and then it’s good to remember where you came from before you continue where you are going. Get ready to start the new year with many more lessons to learn.

Fa la la la la, la la la la

With the dusk of 2011 fading and the dawn of 2012 approaching, ‘tis the season of holiday cheer, ugly sweater parties and new beginnings.

Now out of college and in the “real world,” I realize that Thanksgiving to New Year’s is no longer the time of “finals” and complete immune system shut down. On the contrary, college kids wind down while “real world” (apparently) revs up.

Business holiday parties and networking events are at an all time annual high. In business, everyone wants to celebrate a job well done. (Or, if it has been a job badly done, they toast to hoping next year improves.) For young New Yorkers, this endless mire of socializing equates to opportunity. If—with regards to your career—you are like me, you are: happy where you are and you can see into the near future, but farther down the road the picture gets blurry. If you are not like me, you are: unhappy with your job slash career and you too can benefit from this advice.

Network. Talk to everyone you can. This past week I attended New York Women in Communications Cocktail and Conversations event. The event focused on “What Women Want,” marketing for women by women. True, the conversation was interesting and I did learn a lot. But, prior to the organized panel discussion I met two women during the mingling set of the evening.

As it turns out, one woman is working on a book with a main character named Ruthie. Excitement. This spring I’ll get to read a book about a love triangle, and a girl with my name is the lead! More importantly, from our chat we discovered that the author’s real-life daughter is a client of mine! We arranged to all grab drinks together. Through a simple five-minute conversation, I made a valuable connection that will allow me to better my work for my client. (If nothing else, I have a good recommendation for some fun reading.)

After the panel discussion, I approached Lesley Jane Seymour, Editor in Chief of More magazine. She is an impressive woman to say the least. I was thrilled just to have the opportunity to talk to a woman with her many accomplishments.

The majority of that room of attendees left as soon as the raffle prizes were gone and they were empty-handed. However, I introduced myself to Ms. Seymour. I happen to be a fan of More, so I delved into a conversation about the magazine. More technically used to be a magazine targeted to women in their 40s. But now, Ms. Seymour has pushed it in a more ageless direction. “You can be smart at any age,” she told me. Amen, Lesley. Amen.

Who knows if I’ll bump into Lesley Jane Seymour again. But who says that I won’t? If I do, I’ll have an anecdote to tell her about “when we met.” The more cards you have in your deck, the more you can play.

For this reason, welcome any advice thrown your way.

A couple of weeks ago, I worked an event called Artwalk—an art auction for the Coalition for the Homeless. NBC reporter Lauren Scala happened to be there. True to what I said before, I believe in marching up to people and making introductions. So I did.

We spoke about journalism, reporting, the media business in general. Her advice, “Find your niche.” Find an expertise and then hone your craft. But even more importantly, Lauren urged me to “Just do it.” The key is not to psyche yourself out wondering if you can handle it. Just try. Dive in. And with every leap, you will improve.

Which brings me to the final leap you should make this holiday season. End-of-the-year networking events are useful, but company holiday parties are more fun. What remains left out of the quintessential morning-after report is the usefulness of these types of schindigs, as well.

Company holiday parties are the one time of year you get to kick back and relax around the co-workers you see scampering around the office like busy bees day in and day out. The office party is a chance to meet people in your office, but outside of your department. Essentially, take this moment to expand your social network.

If you like the people you work with, chances are you will enjoy work. After all, you spend more time at the office than most other places. Moreover, the friendlier you are the more likely people are to help you on your projects. Why not make the effort to meet new people in the hopes that the holiday cheer will spread into friendship and altruism throughout your calendar year?

My office holiday party this past week took place at Bowlmor. A few of my work friends and I put together a team and put on our game face. We were ready to win.

While we already knew each other, we did meet the teams next door. We had a total blast throwing gutter balls, random strikes, and eventually dominating all of the other teams. (Free winners’ lunch in this corner.)

When the lanes shut down and the animated bowling pins stopped dancing on our scoreboards, we shuttled out to the bar for some extended partying. We had an awesome time chatting and bonding about non-work things. Imagine that! Non-work things with work people. My friends, it can happen.

And then, the music got really good. Dancing with your co-workers is a recipe for instant friendship. It says, “Hey! I’m letting loose and getting goofy around you. I trust you to keep this a secret. And I only trust people who I call friends.”

So grab a co-worker and chat about last night’s episode of How I Met Your Mother, or start grooving to Chris Brown. The next day, you have an automatic reason to smile and laugh with each other about the awesome night you had at the holiday party. From there, no reason not to be friendly around the office all the time.

Make a resolution this season to use your slight buzz to loosen up and make new friends.

And while you’re at it, make a second resolution to "dive in.”

I have been wanting to start a blog for months. It took the push of a mentor of mine to actually start writing. In his words, much like Lauren Scala’s, “Go for it.” I could have easily waited until the official New Year or some other arbitrary holiday. But why wait? I decided to dive in and start my new year in November.

You do not have to wait for January 1 to make the change in your life you want to make. A new year can start whenever you choose.

Going it Alone

While it’s great to have city newbies to show around (or feel like you’re showing around), one can’t always be so lucky to have enthusiastic whipper snappers at hand. Despite the lack of guaranteed company in the city, I can guarantee there is something fun, new and interesting to do. Sometimes opportunities to experience cool things come up, but people don’t.

Most people would just throw in the towel, “Nah. That’s ok. I don’t really want to go alone.” The next time this happens, go alone. Trust me.

In a bout of good luck, I was offered four pairs of complimentary tickets in five days. The first of these five days, I was lucky enough to find friends to attend the Radio City Christmas Spectacular Dress Rehearsal—yes, they did have to stop the performance, and, yes, it was both funny and entertaining. (The addition of the 3D game this year definitely added some pizzazz.)

Wednesday I was offered two tickets to see Shemekia Copeland at Jazz at Lincoln Center Thursday night. I said yes, assuming that I could find someone to go with in the subsequent 24 hours. Note: I had never heard of this woman prior, but did a bit of research. She's the real deal.

As it turns out, after Spectacular Day One, everyone in my phone book seemed to have disappeared or suddenly become extremely popular.

While I could have easily gone home Thursday night and gotten some sleep, defeated by my alone-ness, I thought to myself “How many chances do you get to go to JALC for free? And to see a woman currently dubbed the Queen of the Blues no less?” The next thing I heard was “59th Street Columbus Circle, next stop 66th St” and I dashed out of the subway to the box office to claim one of the two tickets under my name.

My favorite tune of the night was her "Wild Wild Woman." Girl can sing. The song also reeks of pride and sass. She's totally proud of who she is and doesn't apologize for it. Ladies, take note.

Her band was feelin it on this chart, too—Arthur Neilson and Willie Scandlyn on Guitar, Kevin Jenkins on bass and Morris Roberts on drums. And I started feelin during the audience participation in "Who Stole My Radio." It turns out, you don't need someone else in order to enjoy a concert. I think it appropriate that I enjoyed the blues alone.

This particular weekend also happened to be the New York Comedy Festival. I’m a huge fan of laughter. In fact, one of my favorite songs as a kid (and maybe still) is “I Love to Laugh” from Mary Poppins. I just thought it was the greatest idea, that every time you laughed you would float up to the ceiling! I even translated the song to Spanish the day I learned the verb “to laugh.” In New York, the price of laughter is usually high, so free tickets to the NYCF were a must-take.

Saturday night I got tickets to see Bill Maher. I’d never seen his show on HBO, but everyone said he’s hysterical. I watched a YouTube video of him. Politics, religion. Very Daily Show but with a bit more contempt in his voice. Unsure that I would be well-informed enough to follow his humor and unsure that I would be secure enough to laugh with him as he poked at religion, I decided “Why not?” He’s supposed to be great, so let’s do it.

Only when I said "let’s" I apparently meant I’ll do it. Once again, I couldn’t find someone to join me. So I gave the extra ticket to a woman who was standing outside with a sad sign declaring “I only need one ticket.” We climbed the gilded stairs to the mezzanine of the Beacon Theatre.

I was super-bummed to be there practically alone, not counting my new random companion. It’s one thing to go to a concert by yourself and listen to some music. It’s another to laugh by yourself. But as soon as the show started, I realized that the only perk of going with someone to a comedy show is that you can recount the jokes together after. While you’re there, you’re just laughing at a guy with a mic in his hand.

So I laughed with the people behind me who were CLEARLY enjoying themselves. In fact, I thanked them afterwards for being my surrogate comedy buddy and they were so excited that they made me feel part of a group. They were having a great time, eating it up. I felt just like a wave in the sea of people laughing at Bill Maher and the state of American politics. Because sometimes all you can do is laugh and hope you float to the ceiling.

Night five I had tickets to see Russell Peters at Caroline’s. This time, I was sent for work since I was blogging about the night. Now experienced in attending a comedy show solo, I was looking forward to this. Peters was hilarious and so were the guys before him. For the second night in a row, I had a fabulous time even though I was by myself, sharing it with strangers rather than a close friend.

Of course, I love experiencing the city with friends new and old, New Yorkers and out-of-towners. But it doesn’t always work that way. There will be times when you get tickets to a raved-about show or passes to a famous comedian’s performance and no one you know can sit beside you. Venture out on your own. Spend some time with yourself.

My whirlwind blast of a weekend is proof: It is always better to experience alone than not experience at all.