If my mom’s voicemails were a Broadway musical

…using actual, transcribed text from my mom’s messages, elevated to one glorious extravanganza!

BEEP! The Musical! STARRING ANSWERING MACHINE,  RISING STARLETS, AND A CAST OF HUNDREDS! GLAMOUR! SOUL-STIRRING SONGS!  MAD-CAP ANTICS! GORGEOUS GAMS! ZIGFIELD’S FINEST!

(Overture)

Curtains up on a dark stage, in which an answering machine is illuminated by a single spotlight.  A red light blinks. A phantom hand presses the “messages” button, as the audience holds its collective breath.

MESSAGE:

Hi, Kate. This is Mom. I just called to say I love you love you LOVE you, and you are my SPECIAL GIRL. I love you.  This is Mom. I LOVE you. It is Wednesday, at 6:32 and 29..30…31 seconds, and I called to say I love you. YOU  are the most WONDERFUL, BRILLIANT, SPECIAL girl in the WHOLE WORLD, and any man who doesn’t instantly want to snatch you up  FOREVER is just INSANE. INSANE. Should be LOCKED UP! Insane. You are my SPECIAL SPECIAL girl, and I can’t believe you’re 25. 25! Ugh! It seems like just yesterday you were a little baby.  (moment of reflective silence) You know, when I was 25, I had TWO LITTLE BOYS.  Haha. Not that that matters to you, because I know you say you don’t want kids, but I think it’s such a SHAME, You’d be SUCH a great MOM.  You say that NOW, but you’re so YOUNG, you might change your mind. OH, you’d be such a COOL mom!(pause)  I know you hate it when I do that. DELETE, DELETE! Hahahaha. Here I  go, BABBLE BABBLE! Hahahaha! (Starts singing, off-tune):

Oh where, oh where has my little girl gone

Oh where, oh where can she beee?

I’ve called and called and she hasn’t called me back*

Oh whyyyy won’t sheeeee call me?

Hahahahaha!  This is Mom, I LOVE you LOVE YOU! Call me back. Call me back, I love you!

 This is Mom!

(long pause)

 

I love you! This is Mom!

(click)

Lights come up, revealing a long  kickline of chorus girls! They dance and twirl, as a platform of singers rise behind them, drowning the stage in song! They all join together, surround the answering machine, and end in big finish, jump-splits and fireworks and soaring voices, and the cheeky lovers reunited!

Close curtain.

*Before anyone accuses me of being a monster, let me just say that this message was left when I hadn’t called her back for TWO DAYS. TWO DAYS!

Katkallers

I live in Washington Heights, NYC (stalkers take note), and as such, every day/night when I walk down my street, I am greeted by what my roommates and I call “The Gauntlet”:

PSsssssst!Psst! (finger snap) Pssst pssst!

God BLESS you.

God BLESS you, mami.

Ohh, you so beautiful. Are you a model?

Girl, I like that. Mmmm. Vanilla.

And those are the polite guys. Worse are the

Shake it. Yeaaahhhh. I see you. I like that ass.

I like that fat ass. (EXCUSE YOU, MOTHERFUCKER?)

What? You don’t want to talk? You don’t want to be my friend? Stuck-up.

Hey, girl. Heyyyyy. Bend over for me.

…and worse. It doesn’t matter what you wear, it doesn’t matter how you look, it doesn’t matter how late or early it is- every time is catcalling time in the Heights! It’s been especially bad lately- the weather’s been nice, and there are big groups of men hanging out on the stoops.  The worst part is that there’s no way to respond-at an especially nasty comment, I’ll give a dirty look, or flip them off, or yell at them, but in most cases, it’s better just to ignore the catcalls- these guys feed off the attention. I’ve had men in my neighborhood lunge into my personal space, within inches of me, while catcalling, which feels especially frightening and enraging. One feels powerless and pissed and exposed.

So I have an idea.

I think the city of New York, to discourage  street harassment of women and generally improve the quality of life citywide, should award to one out of every 100,000 women in the city (chosen by lottery) a brand-new top of the line bazooka.

And the license to kill or maim, without legal penalty, up to 5 catcallers in a calendar year.

Now I’m not saying every woman would accept it, or use the privilege, but wouldn’t the thought that an overstuffed purse just MIGHT contain a high-powered assault weapon make these guys really consider how important it is to them to comment on that. sweet. ass.?

 

Mayor Bloomberg, I rest my case.

Scenes with My Mother III- Dinner Conversation

The year is 2008. Kate and her mother are at a diner. Kate is picking at the last of her sandwich; her mother is empting six packets of sugar and four creams into a coffee cup. They are discussing her younger brother, who is in his semester abroad. They are mid-conversation.

Kate’s Mom: Oh,  I don’t think Brendan dates.

K: He does too.

KM: How do you know?

K: I saw it on his blog.

KM: What?

K: I saw it on his blog.

KM: How do you get to a “blog”?

K: Oh, Mom, I am so not telling you. (laughs) Then he would tell you how to get to my blog.

KM: You have a “blog”?

K: No. Never mind.

KM: Well, is he dating anyone special? Any special guy?

K: I don’t know.

KM: Ask him!

K: Mom! No! I’m not going to do that.

KM: Why not?

K: It’s nosy! It’s totally…it’s intrusive.

KM: No, it’s not.

K: Mom, of course it is! It’s like, oh, I don’t know….like if you asked me (waves hand in the air) how many people I’ve slept with, or whatever.

(pause)

KM: How many people have you slept with?

K: Mommmmmmmmm!

KM: Well, let’s see… (names people she knows Kate has dated*) there’s John, and Mark, and Adam…and that artist, what was his name?…Peter? Paul?

K: MOM!

KM: Wasn’t there a musician?

K: MA!

KM: Okay, okay.

(pause)

Five?

K: MOM!

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

“Just give me a ballpark number. 6? 10? 3?”

Scenes with My Mother II- Nutrition

Kate and her mother are sitting on the couch. Kate is eyeing the large styrofoam cup her mother is sipping coffee from.

Kate: Mom, how many cups of coffee a day do you drink?

Kate’s Mom: Oh, don’t start.

K: Mom, HOW MANY CUPS OF COFFEE A DAY? Like, twelve?

KM: No! I have (clears throat) three cups.

K: Three of those! Mom, that’s huge. That’s, like, four servings each. Oh my God, Mom. And you drink diet soda, too! How many diet sodas do you have a day?

KM: Oh, lay off. (waves hand in a dismissive motion). Buzz off.

K: Like, four? Mom, you know that stuff de-calcifies your bones, right? And all the coffee? Jeez, Mom, no wonder you have osteoporosis. That stuff is terrible for you.

KM:I don’t drink that much coffee.

K: Mom, just… just drink some water, too. Break that stuff up, you know?

KM: Water makes me gag.

(stupefied silence)

K: WATER IS THE BUILDING BLOCK OF LIFE!

KM: (Makes gagging sound)

Scenes with my Mother

Hello, and welcome to a new feature- Scenes with My Mother, in which I turn actual conversations with my mother into great works of art. Please enjoy.

Scene: Kate’s mother’s van. The year is 2002. Kate’s mother is driving about 30 mph and hitting every curb on the street, as per usual. The dashboard and floor of the car are littered with used styrofoam coffee cups and paperback novels. Kate, a *shockingly* good-looking and intelligent (and humble!) 19 year-old, is in the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard.

Kate: Hey Mom, guess what?

Kate’s Mom: What?

K: My friend Katie came out of the closet.

KM:Oh?

K: Yeah. Well, I mean- to her friends. Not to her family, though, ’cause they wouldn’t understand. That’s one thing I’ve always really appreciated about you and Dad, you know? That you would totally accept me and love me if I were gay.

(Long pause)

KM:Are you gay?

K: Mom, what? No. I’m just saying if I WERE…

KM: You can tell me, Kate.

K: What? No, I’m…

Km: You can tell me, I love you anyway, Kate….

K: Mom! I’m not gay!

KM: I love you anyway, Kate!!!

K: MOM!

KM: I love my gay daughter!

K: MOM YOU DON’T HAVE ONE.

(End scene)

” I love my gay daughter!”

BLOOD MONKEY!!!!

My day job is at a production company which make TV movies, some of which are pretty good and some of which are just embarassing. My favorite of these movies is “BLOOD MONKEY!”, a film about a tribe of man-eating monkeys in the Amazon. Now, the movie itself is pretty…fascinating, but I was so inspired by the concept that I decided to write an alternate script. Below, the rough draft of my masterpiece:

My script for “Blood Monkey”. 

BLOOD MONKEY, STARRING BEN AFFLECK AND TIA CARRERE

with LUCY LAWLESS as DR. MILICENT TIRARE, zoologist

Scene I: a remote jungle

BEN: Isn’t  this REMOTE JUNGLE amazing, Tiffany? Soo lush and beautiful. Just like you.

TIA: Oh, Cliff. (giggles)

BEN: Come here, hot stuff.

TIA: Cliff, we shouldn’t. Hee hee hee. Oh, that tickles! What if someone sees us?

BEN: Don’t be ridiculous, baby. There’s no one here but birds and poisonous frogs. Just you and me…

TIA: Oh, Cliff! Ohhh. Cliff, mmmm….

(A sound- a tree branch breaking).

TIA: What was that?!!!

BEN: What was what?

TIA: That noise! Cliff…

BEN: Probably just a bird. C’mere.

(A rustle in the bushes.)

TIA: There it was again! Oh my god, Ben..I mean Cliff. What if…

BEN: What if what? How does this darn thing unhook?

TIA: What if it’s…Remember those hikers? That were found..(whispers) half-eaten… covered…

BEN: With bananas? That’s a myth, baby. Come one, I thought we came out here to have fun. Relax.Just…relax…

TIA: Oh, Cliff. Hee hee hee.

FROM THE TREES DIRECTLY ABOVE, A HUGE RUSTLING NOISE. A GHOSTLY SHRIEK.

BEN: What the…?

A RUSH OF MOVEMENT. CAMERA PANS AWAY. ALL WE SEE IS GOUTS OF BLOOD HITTING THE FOREST FLOOR. SCREAMS.

TIA: OH, GOD NO!!!! NO!!!!!!!!

BEN: TIFFANY, RUN!RUN!!!! YEAAAGHHH!

Same floor, obviously weeks later. LUCY LAWLESS, as DR. MILICENT TIRARE, examines a half-eaten shoe, covered with gore and hairs.

JUNGLE TRIBESMAN #1:  Has the demon who killed your family so long ago come again to wreak havoc on humanity, O Shaman?

LUCY LAWLESS: Yes, Tonto. I am afraid he will never be appeased, this..

JUNGLE TRIBESMAN #1: oH gODS!

LUCY LAWLESS:…this Blood Monkey.

(Tonto prostrates himself as wild tribal drums beat and LAWLESS shakes her fist at the sky, impotently cursing the trees in a cry of terrible rage.)

LUCY LAWLESS: BLOOD MONKKKKKKEEEEYYYYY!!!!!!

Top Ten Things to Do When Trapped in Temp Job

10.) Think about scratching butt. As impulse builds, resist. Feel butt getting itchier and itchier. Become convinced one has pressing medical issue related to butt-scratching. Furtively look around cubicle. While maintaining blank face,  scratch butt. Stare blankly into space.

9.) Stare blankly into space.

8.) Smell something weird.  Sniff self. Confirm it is not, in fact, self. Conclude that the person in next cubicle MUST change diet/ cologne/ mouthwash immediately. Consider writing an anonymous note.

7.) Think about lunch.

6.) Go on facebook for about the 47th time in a day. Get pissed off that no one has written comments on your wall in the last ten minutes; reflect that perhaps you should drink less coffee.

5.) Supervisor walks by! Intently stare at computer; furrow brow seriously. Open up an Excel document as if you had any idea what to do with an Excel document.

4.) Go to bathroom.

3.)Examine split ends.

2.) Do google search on all of your friends/ enemies/ former flames. Secretly hope that image search of latter two produces wan/ flabby/ regretful-looking pictures.

1.) Practice holding breath, out of both boredom and obscure hope that you actually pass out, therein guaranteeing you get to go home early. Keep Excel document open on computer; amuse self by writing dirty phrases.

More real-life bad movie titles

 As some of you know, I work at a production company that produced hits such as “Blood Monkey” and “A Grandpa for Christmas”.  Annnd now, from the annals of the same company, it’s MORE TRULY BAD MOVIE TITLES! All 100% AUTHENTIC!!!

10.)”How, Where and When to Catch Bass”-wow, that sounds…riveting?

 6.) “Finding Buck Henry, aka: Hamlet”

5.)”Captain Simian and the Space Monkeys” -Okay, I actually remember watching this as a kid. And it kind of rocked.

4.)”A Boyfriend for Christmas” –Just remember to poke airholes in the box.

3.)”Merlin the Magical Puppy”

2.)”Brandon Willy Goes To Heck” aka “I was a Teenage Faust” Yes, the title  actually contains “Heck”.

AND FINALLY…… 

 1.)”Dear  Mr. God”.

There are no words.

Update: I have now, tragically, seen the worst movie my company ever produced- a little film called “Aztec Rex”. It’s a movie about how the dinosaurs used to battle the Mayans. right about when the conquistadors came. A real film d’art, if you will.

Top Ten Things To Say To Upset A Hipster

(Special shout-out to Margaret McCloskey, who came up with several of the less clever   of these. Just kidding, Mag! You’re hilarious. Please stop drinking, we’re all concerned.)

10.) “I totally get what you’re saying in this poem.”                                                            

9.)”Your parents’ check just bounced.”

8.) “Pull-out is not an effective method of birth control.”

7.)”You know what I like best about you? Your earnesty and enthusiasm.”

6.) “Great outfit! I just saw another guy wearing the exact same thing! .”

5. ) “Oh my God. I know you!! Lindsay! Lindsay Miller?!!!  Randolph High, right? You were prom queen!”

4.) “I saw you. In Times Square. On New Year’s.” 

3.) “You look, like, so happy.”

2.) (looking at song on Ipod) “Mmm. I have the original.”

AND FINALLY….

1.) “I don’t really believe in bisexuality.”

(Image via nataliedee.com)

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