Bowling with Jason Bateman and Kiefer Sutherland

I was a sophomore film student at NYU when I decided to spend the summer working in Hollywood. I wanted nothing more than to experience a professional shoot. If I was going to have a career in the business of show, then I needed to pop my Hollywood cherry, so to speak.

“It’s who you know,” is a cliche for a reason. I was fortunate to have one of the biggest entertainment lawyers in my family (through marriage) in my stable of limited contacts (I was only 19) and he hooked me up with my first PA job. It was the NBC television movie, Can You Feel Me Dancing?, starring Justine BatemanJason Bateman and Max Gail. It was the story of a young blind woman struggling for her independence. Just like me, minus the blind part. READ MORE 

Loyalty – Is It A Choice?

Is it true that you can only count on yourself in this life? And that people will always disappoint you?

This is such hardline thinking. I don’t want to believe this any more than I want to believe that The Captain and Tenille couldn’t work it out after 39 years of marriage and Muskrat Love. However, lately I’ve been hearing more and more about disloyalty, unfaithfulness and mistrust. Ew, ew and double ew. I’m getting this from friends, acquaintances, lovers and television shows. It feels like an epidemic. Or maybe Mercury is stuck in retrograde. READ MORE HERE.



Photo Credit: Shutterstock

Despite The Captain n’ Tenille, Love Will Keep Us Together, Dammit!

Photo Credit: Shutterstock

Photo Credit: Shutterstock

It’s taken me fifteen weeks to write this post. I needed time to figure out how I was going to tell my adoring fans that The Girlfriend Mom is no longer a girlfriend. Well, that’s one way of doing it.

Life is funny. Not funny like watching someone trip over their own feet and then trying to save themselves from face planting. Funny as in curious and ever so surprising. For all of my protestations about not wanting kids, coupled with hesitations about being in a relationship with a divorced father, I now find myself feeling grateful for having the Girlfriend Mom kids in my life. As it turns out, the kids are one of the most beautiful results of my relationship with their father.

My ex-boyfriend (wow, that doesn’t flow fluidly off the keyboard) and I did not have a plan for how we were going to tell the kids, or what we were going to tell them. For my part, I will cop to denial and hoping that dad would take the lead. For his part, I think it was more comfortable for him to simply say that, “we were taking a break,” and let the chips fall where they may. Neither approach dealt with the issue and as a result I felt off balance and alone.

Maintaining a relationship with them was paramount for me, so I forged ahead and started a dialogue independent of their father. After seven and a half years (save a year and a half due to our first breakup) I wasn’t prepared to walk away or fade to black. I didn’t want the kids to feel abandoned. They had already gone through one divorce and I didn’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for them. Perhaps it was I who didn’t want to feel abandoned.

I questioned what rights I had as a Girlfriend Mom. What demands could I make on their time? There isn’t a list in a ‘how to’ book on the topic. I debated with myself, and cried. A lot. Everything was falling apart. The life that I had been building for so many years was quickly slipping through my fingers, so I grabbed the kids and held on.

Throughout the relationship, I had many fears and doubts, as evidenced by my many posts. But in the face of those fears and doubts, I planted seeds, I nurtured the relationships and I watched us grow into a pretty high functioning blended family. Not always easy.

I was nervous to reach out to them. Would they care if we stayed in touch? Did they even notice that I was gone? Was I being dramatical? Besides, they had their own lives, friends, school, jobs, and they were still kids.

I had lost their father. I didn’t think that I could’ve handled losing them as well. When I did reach out, their response warmed my soul. I told them that I would always be there for them and that I hoped to always be in their lives.

I was so scared and anxious when I first met the kids. How could I go from childless by choice, to having two small kids in my life? Over the years I saw parts of myself that I never knew existed. Unattractive parts. Who needs that? And yet, something made me want to stay. Something told me to hang on and push through because something wonderful was waiting for me on the other side. Something. Something that looked a lot like love.

The first time I experienced the kind of love that practically rips your heart out of your chest, was when I was leaving for Dubai, two summers ago, to teach Pilates. I bent down to say good-bye to my Girlfriend Mom son, who was dozing off on the couch. He put his little boy hands around my neck and pulled my face down close to his and he cried. I didn’t know that it was possible to feel such pain and love simultaneously.

I had been so worried that we weren’t going to bond, let alone love someone else’s kids. I was never the same after that.

Now what? Is this the next chapter of The Girlfriend Mom- or is it The Ex-Girlfriend Mom now? Ours is not a conventional, traditional, or clear situation. I see challenges ahead, with messy moments thrown in. I also know that no one knows anything about anything, especially about the future. So bring it.

Yesterday I thanked my Girlfriend Mom daughter for allowing me the privilege to experience the joy of having kids in my life. “You’re welcome,” she said. In a million years, I never would’ve dreamed of having that exchange. Isn’t life funny.

My Apartment Lobby Has Been Ghettoized

I walked into the lobby of my apartment building the other day, only to be visually assaulted by the following display(s).


Xmas_RiverPlaceThe separation couldn’t have been clearer and louder. I almost laughed. I wanted to say (out loud) “You’re kidding right?” Does anyone else find this offensive? Does anyone else see the crude metaphor?

Clearly Mr. Silverstein of Silverstein Properties (the owner of my building) doesn’t partake in holiday decorations or he’s too busy buying up more New York real estate. I wonder what he would say to this gross example of Jews and Christians.

SEPARATION. Why? This is what’s wrong in the world? Where’s the inclusion and togetherness? Instead it’s, ‘You’re people in that corner, and youse people in the other.’ Perhaps I’m taking this too seriously, but what the hell, it’s the holiday season. Hey Jewish people, you’re props are on the right, everyone else bear left. When someone directs me to one side of anything, I naturally feel segregated, singled out, and as if I’m going to be getting on a specific train that those fortunate souls on the left side are not. Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic. Maybe not.

Would it be so fucking hard to combine the two religious and cultural paraphernalia? Can we not show a congregation of different beliefs? Why not put that ginormous Menorah alongside the ginormous plastic tree; the flames aren’t real, so no chance of a burning bush happening.

Isn’t this what we’re all fighting for, a collective consciousness. Wouldn’t it be nice if we promoted acceptance and tolerance, where Christmas trees and Dreidels lived alongside one another in peace and harmony.

This is New York City for crying out loud. The largest melting pot this side of the Mississsippi. Where’s the friggin’ brotherly love? Why would my lobby want to encourage divisiveness? To add insult to injury, there’s also a carpet runner that extends from the front desk to the front door, acting as a low pile dividing line.

What if a resident celebrates both holidays? What if they come from a mixed marriage or a blended family? What box are they supposed to throw their dry goods donation in? Why make people choose?

Not for nothing but since Channukah came butt early this year, why couldn’t the Festival of Lights have some solo stage time and then bring in the tinsel and glass ball part of the show.

Is there something more sinister going on in my building? Do I need to watch my back? And my front? The scene in my lobby does not scream Happy Holidays. Instead, it reminds me of every long car trip that my brother and I ever took. “Stay on your own side or I’ll hurt you.”

Nicely done Silverstein.