Happy Blogaversary!

Now I couldn't just let the whole month of April go by without blowing out my own candles, could I? It's hard to believe that it's been two years since I started this whole blog life and even harder to believe what a major part of me it's become. And as I have said many times before, it ain't always pretty, but life rarely is. I seemed to have carved out my own little niche on the internet, a place to kick off my shoes, snuggle up with my favorite Barbra movie and a glass of wine...and I think I'm here to stay.

A big cyber hug and thank you for those who have stuck around for the journey...it's still far from over.

I cried in my professor's office yesterday. I tried so hard to make it stop. When I felt the tears stinging the corners of my eyes on the brink of overflowing, I bit into my lower lip thinking that the pain from that would distract me from the tears. But I couldn't help it. The little girl in me needed a release, and unfortunately it happened at the mostt inappropriate moment. All of the frustration I have from this whole NYU thesis process bubbled to the surface after a meeting that was both a success and a complete nightmare. And I could feel this poor man in front of me tense, not knowing what to do, or if he should even do anything. I wiped and sniffled and tried to make it stop. It was brief, I'll admit, but trying to talk through the tears and explain that it wasn't him, it was me, I was a total wreck and he was perfectly great. It was exactly like I would imagine a break-up conversation unfolding, the one in tears trying to hold on to those last shreds of pride while the other sits in silent confusion unsure of what to do and you happen to be blocking their only escape route. Usually after a cry I feel better, this time I don't. There are so many tears left to be cried and I am certain they will be, but I can't sit around and wait for them. There are papers to be written and approvals to be received and boxes to be shipped and theater to be seen and good-byes to be made. I think I can schedule a release sometime around June 1st. Until then, if it happens in fron of you, I'll try and at least not block the door.

Famous Faces
I have recently fully embraced my fangirl tendencies. Therefore, I have pictures. Just a few shots I had taken in the brief moments I spent stumbling over my words trying not to sound stupid talking to normal people who just happen to come in to my home via TV and radio. Kind of fun, for me at least....enjoy!


Me and Ben Stiller doing his best Zoolander face after his play at the Public Theatre.


There's a story behind that weird look on "Claire Huxtable's" face and it involves the keen ability of another fan clicking that picture at the exact moment Phylicia Rashad said "uh-oh" to my dropped playbill.


And that's me and the Cheno as she was signing my CDs at her release party.

Only in New York...sigh...

Soul Food
I needed that. I needed a few hugs from mom and a few shots from the brothers and a few cuddles from the niece. New York can be so...impersonal. Being home fills me up in ways that I never even realize I need until I am on the plane headed back to the concrete jungle thinking about riding the train alone. I've made some decisions for the next chapter in my life. They weren't easy to make but I feel like they are right, for now...for me. Someone told me recently that I shouldn't settle for anything less than what I want and deserve in life. The thing is, I can honestly say that when I look back at my life, I have never, not once, settled. I've never taken the easy way out because the trail looked smoother and the flowers smelled nicer. Everything I have in my life I have earned, worked for through tears and anger and pain and frustration. The last few months for me have been a blessing. I found a peace with myself and this city, maybe because I knew that our affair might have to end soon, but the beauty of New York isn't lost on me. Despite the ways it has tried to tear me down, and almost won, there are few places quite as beautiful. I found myself in New York, for the first time I really began to understand who I am and what it is I am capable of doing. Going home and seeing myself reflected in the eyes of my friends and family, I know that it has all been worth the struggle. There are so many things yet to do. So many new experiences yet to be had. And whether those adventures are to be found in this city, or the next, or in my old bedroom down the hall from my mother, I am honored to take the journey and feed my soul.

I leave tomorrow to spend the weekend with my family back home in the warm Texas sunshine. My mother's birthday weekend is the special occasion, a trip to the good-food capitol of Texas has been promised, a petting zoo is the offered entertainment at my 2 year old cousin's birthday and I am all smiles at the possibility of seeing these.

Enjoy your weekend...I know I will!

Really Shameless Plug
If you find yourself at a loss for programming around 1:35 in the AM (that's 12:35 for you folks in the cool time zone) tonight, flip your remote over to NBC and you might catch a peak of me. I was at a taping of this show last week and it airs tonight. I'm sitting in the first row of the bleachers in a pink top (duh!) trying to look my cutest for the TV cameras. Hey, don't laugh! I went for the blonde, stayed for the music, and left before the host got too annoying. Plus it's free, and we all know I'm cheap like that!

*Star Sighting*
(it's been a while!)
Bob "Full House" Saget

What's In A Name?
Apparently, a lot. Thanks to Rach, I have just read the most interesting article and thought, as an educator of those on the internet, I should post it here for everyone to view. It seems as if, with the genius name I have been given by my mother, my lot in life should be pretty well laid out, and fairly bleak. I suppose it's had it's moments of drastic bleakness and ghetto-fabulous disasters, but I think I am working against the curve. The one thing that does hold true for the article is that I certainly feel like I am labeled before I even get a chance a lot of the time just because of the obvious. I mean, I dare one of you readers to locate a white chick named Ebony, and if you do, I will show you a white chick with a black daddy or at the very least, an adopted chocolate baby with white parents who thought that letting her keep her name would in some way truly connect her to the person she was always meant to be. (Double damn for that child!) I will be the first to admit that I had a hard time learning to like my name. Growing up in white suburban America, being name Jennifer would have been so much easier. But now I think it's perfect, it sort of rolls off the tounge...Ebony Rose. People comment on it all of the time telling me how beautiful it is. The delivery guy last week told me it was a superstar name (I didn't want to mention that the kind of super star he was probably thinking of was featured on a video in the adult-only section of the video store.) But for the most part, it has served me well. Let's just hope that I don't end up as the name would suggest, "an unmarried, low-income, undereducated" woman. And perhaps I should rethink naming my daughter Raven.

(Oh, if you're lazy and just want to see the fun list of uber-white vs. uber-black names, click right here and see how you or your cousins or your future children fare.)

Musical Comedy

The CD currently on repeat in my CD player is a mixture of inspirational/country stuff by a woman mostly known as a Broadway diva. The new CD is a bit of a departure for her, but really seems like more of who she is in real life, I guess the old saying is true: you can take the girl out of Oklahoma, but you can't take the Oklahoma out of the girl. The CD is great, very, well, inspirational. But at the end of the CD is a hidden track that makes me giggle out loud, a fun little nugget she snuck in just for her fans who expect these little things from her. The song is titled Taylor, the Latte Boy, a comical love song to the cutie behind the counter...and makes me smile.

Taylor, the Latte Boy
There's a boy who works at Starbucks
Who is very inspirational.
He is very inspirational because of many things.
I walk in at 8:11, and he smiles and says, "How are you?"
When he smiles and says, "How are you?"
I could swear my heart grows wings!

So today at 8:11 I decided I should meet him
I decided I should meet him
In a proper formal way.
So today at 8:11 when he smiled and said "How are you?"
I said "Fine, and my name’s Kristin,"
And he softly answered, "Hey."
And I said "My name is Kristin, and thank you for the extra foam…"
And he said his name was Taylor,
Which provides the inspiration for this poem:

Taylor the latte boy,
Bring me java, bring me joy!
Taylor the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him…

So I’d like to get my nerve up
To recite my poem musical.
He would like the fact it’s musical
Because he plays guitar.
And today at 8:11, Taylor told me he was playing
With a band down in the village in the basement of a bar.
And I saw him flip the lever to prepare my double latte,
But for me he made it triple! (And he didn’t think I knew)
But I saw him flip the lever, and for me he made it triple,
And I knew the triple latte meant that Taylor loved me too!
I said, "What time are you playing?
And thank you for the extra skim…"
He said, "Keep the $3.55," because this triple latte was on him.

Taylor the latte boy,
Bring me java, bring me joy!
Taylor the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him…

I used to be the kind of girl
Who’d run when love rushed toward her.
Till finally a voice whispered, "Love can be yours,
If you step up to the counter and order."

Taylor the latte boy,
Bring me java, bring me joy!
Taylor the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him…

So many years my heart has waited,
Who’d have thought that love could be so caffinated?
Taylor, the latte boy,
I love him, I love him, I love him.
I love him, I love him, I love him.

I saw a beautiful man on the train this morning. His skin was about the color of mine, maybe a smidge lighter, definitely more caramel than chocolate. He had on a white polo shirt with a dark blazer, creased slacks and shiny shoes and was carrying a briefcase while reading the New York Times. His head was bald, by choice not heredity, and small wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, his left ring finger was bare. For a brief moment I wished my life was more like a seedy romance novel like The Fish and less like bad reality TV programming without the cool prizes. In that instance I wanted my life to be glossy Technicolor, like that moment in West Side Story when Maria sees Tony for the first time and everyone around them goes all fuzzy and silent and time stands still and there is no one else in the room except for the two of them. If he had only looked up and seen me sitting there, in my black camisole and black wool cardigan with my hair pulled back in a sleek office ponytail it could have been magic. But instead, the beautiful man on the train, who hopped on at West 4th hopped back off at 42nd and Bryant Park and I watched him walk up the stairs as the doors closed between us. It's a shame really, because he looked like the kind of man who listens to John Legend and I'm sure we could have been putty in eachother's hands.

Cheer Fear
"We're not bad, we're just drawn that way!"

What a week...I can hardly believe it's Friday! School just about knocked me out this week. I've been a work slave since Saturday and finally, last night, managed to get in a little bit of fun out on a date with the roomie. We had tickets to see the Broadway revival of a classic: Tennesee WIlliams' A Streetcar Named Desire, starring the gorgeous Natasha Richardson and the super talented John C. Reilly. I've read the play a couple of times but this was my first experience seeing it live...and it blew me away. Natasha was so fragile as Blanche, I just wanted to grab her in my arms and help her make sense of her life...wow, wouldn't it be great if someone would do that for me! But I digress. John C. Reilly gave Stanley a great depth I thought, much softer than Brando which made you understand why Stella loved him so much. It was just a great show. And the best part, I belong to a group called Hiptix, a place where young, hip New Yorkers can go to the theater for a fraction of the cost and last night was a Hiptix night. Which means, not only did we have amazing orchestra seats at the show for super cheap, but we also got to go to a post-show bash. Free food and drink and a bag-o-goodies, and celebrity sighting! Natasha didn't show up, don't blame her after two and a half hours of Blanche, but John did...and we talked to him, got autographs and a picture, and watched as he proceeded to get slightly drunk and then get yelled at for smoking indoors...ha! It was a really good time...I needed that!

Tonight I am going to see Purlie!, a Tony-award winning show orginally written by the late Ossie Davis in the seventies being done at City Center. Eye candy Blair Underwood plays the lead...yum! Then tomorrow it is on a bus for me as I head to Boston for a job interview (notice how I leave that until the end?!) I kind of keeping pretending it's not real just in case it doesn't work out...expect an update next week. Either way, I'm excited to go to Boston since I've never been before and I get to see an old college friend.

Updates on the job front and pictures of John C. Reilly to follow soon. Enjpy your weekends!