Snow in the City

I don't need Web MD to diagnose myself; it's pretty clear what I have: Seasonal Depression! I don't know why it comes as a surprise, because I go through it every year and obviously at the same time! The fabulous NYC has seen close to 18 inches of snow in the last few days which means blocked cars, lakes at every street corner and even more reason to want to stay inside until spring. It's freaking February, I'm so over being cold and kept up inside, yet it is always the same!

November: This is when it all starts. This is when it gets cold outside, the jackets come out of the closet and the sniffles start. Before you know it there are a couple of extra pounds around your hips from the treats and bebidas that you have started to nosh on, but you decide to brush it off and be semi-optimistic about all the fun that's ahead of you!

December: It hits like a ton of bricks. You are working hard, adding extra hours to your schedule to pay for all the gifts you plan on giving and all playing you plan on doing! A few more treats, a few more drinks, you buy a few more pairs of leggings (because those jeans are now a little too snug) and you are embracing the season of fun, friends and family. Though the bank account starts to fizzle away, there's that reminder of the Baby Jesus (if you are a better Christian than I) and the materialistic fact that you might end the month with a few cute things!


January: The New Year has most likely been started hung-over. As uncomfortably and shitty you feel you may have been lucky enough to have dropped a few pounds from the projectile vomiting that happened the night before. This new month means a new year with new resolutions, goals and plans. But it's still cold, and you still have no money, and you are tired, and you are getting sick (your liver's little game of revenge). All the color that you might have had is now GONE, the cellulite you fought hard against over the summer is more prominent. Oh, and don't forget about those goals and plans that you made all of three days ago...it's funny how quickly they turned into overwhelming and frustrating reminders of your lack of motivation and depleted funds! Every movie has suddenly turned into a depressing analogy of your life, every dismal moment is somehow an example of your lack of a future and every bill from the gym is a reminder that you are a big fat failure. Excuses flow out of you like water at Niagara Falls and those bottles of wine you had left over from your holiday parties are now empty!


Every year it's like clockwork. It starts off slow and with warning and it leaves slow and with all your money and positivity. I wouldn't consider moving back to Miami for any reason other than avoiding this horrible feeling that takes control of your mind and body for 4 months time. I'm an NYC girl, where else could you find a man cross country skiing down Broadway and women wearing I Love NY ponchos over their quarter of a million dollar furs! So I propose we move the island of Manhattan to the Caribbean! Who's with me? Just think how nice this city would look with year round sandals! Put a beach in Central Park and I'm good to go!

Light for Haiti!

I apologize for being M.I.A. as of recent, but this girl has been busy! I want to share with you the project that I have been working on and how proud I am of it. One of my favorite people, the amazingly wonderful, talented and giving Terra Mackintosh is one of the producers for an NYC artists based benefit for Haiti. It's been over a month since the earthquake, but the people are still in need; the road to recovery is never easy.  The proceeds of this event will go towards the GHESKIO MEDICAL CENTER in Port Au Prince.



February 28th at the Canal Room will be the night that emerging and established artists of NYC come together to light up the concrete jungle with messages of hope and faith for the people of Haiti. The evening will be hosted by David Alan Grier and Richard Thomas from Broadway's RACE, and will be filled with performers big and small who wish they had the means to donate money to the cause, but since we are poor, we are donating our talent instead!  Additional performances will be by Michael Lanning (song), Eddie Brill (comedy), Scott Allan (music), Chris Critelli (poetry), BlackGold (dance) and many more including the choreography of Ashley Becker (yep, that's me!).


I have had the pleasure of choreographing a piece to 'Bloodline' by Matt Morris. You may not know who he is, but you should. He is a phenomenal talent who sang along side Justin Timberlake for the Hope for Haiti Broadcast. My piece features former Point Park University Dance Alumni including Julia Richter, Ashley Peter, Sheena DiMatteo and Steph Mos.  It has been a pleasure to work with dedicated, giving and talented performers for such an important cause.


To make it short and to the point: this is going to be a wonderful night full of talent and entertainment. The beauty of the evening is not in the vanity of performing, but in the unity of NYC artists big and small and their sense of obligation as artists and human beings to do what’s right. We all know what it's like to be knocked down, well now is our time to put our strength, hope, faith and love together to help out our fellow man!


Get tickets for $40 before the show ($50 at door) go to http://www.canalroom.com/

Check out talent, crew, production team and information on how to donate at http://www.lightforhaiti.net/

Who doesn't like publicity?
Broadway World Article
Playbill.com
Theatre Mania Online

Try Again!

You might have forgotten due to my lack of entries on this subject, but I am still a dancer in NYC, who wants nothing more than to be a happy successful performer. That's why I bitch so much about my job it's not what I want to be doing! The last audition I went on was in November, until about a week ago when I attended the ever famous So You Think You Can Dance auditions. Well, I survived, which is not the same as actually having gotten through as far as I would have liked.



Originally I would have bitched about how I was wronged, but now that some time has passed, getting cut has made me even more determined to find the right kind of success for me. SYTYCD is not for every dancer. It's become a cookie cutter outlet for young, talented and immature competition dancers. Yes, that sounds like a lot of distain and judgment, but it comes from a place of admiration. The show offers the opportunity to work with some of the biggest and brightest in the industry, yet all that the show seems to want are 18 year old competition tricksters. I am not 18, and I am definitely not a trickster.  I think I have solid technique and a mature style of movement, but for whatever reason it's not the fit for the show.

Getting cut from something like this can make you feel a whole slew of emotions; envy, jealousy, frustration, guilt and the overwhelming feeling of failure. Everyone wants to be the success story, the rags to riches tale, the person who grows and changes in a few short weeks with the help of their idols. Obviously only 20 people get to this point, and I never thought it realistic that I would be one of those few, I just hoped that I would be given a fair chance to show my talent, skills and passion. Instead I was given the Elton John classic "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" and "All by Myself" to improv to. Needless to say, my quirky classical inspired contemporary choreography did not shine through when all I could see was Simba running through my head (the song was from The Lion King), and lyrics coming across a karaoke screen (This Bridget Jones' Diary song is one of my favorite songs to sing, not dance to).

I’ve studied and trained for years to be the dancer I am, and then sat outside at 5:30 am, in January, in NYC, in the rain to be given two horrible songs to showcase my style and technique to. I was just slightly pissed! But at the end of the day, as great of an opportunity as it would have been, it was an audition. I’ve been cut before, and I will be cut again; it's the nature of the business. The true test is do you let it get you down, or do you 'dust yourself off and try again?'

(I won't lie, I drank, then ate, then cried before I came to the point of 'trying again' but at least I decided to get back on the horse instead of letting the assholes get me down!)

I'd Rather Be Single

If you are single and live in NYC you understand the difficulties of dating. One would think that with the millions of men living on this island dating (and sex for that matter) would be available in mass quantities for mildly pretty girls with good personalities. I can attest that it is never simple, and even when you find someone that seems like a potential date or even a fling, there is always a catch! If it wasn't bad enough, I heard the following story, which I warn you now to not read if you have a queasy stomach. So now my list of questions has grown, and so has my Creepo-Radar!




A friend of my co-worker lived in Texas and was out for a bachelorette party doing the whole sloppy bar hopping thing when she met this incredibly attractive guy. He was tall, blonde hair, light blue eyes, amazing build and an adorable smile. They spent a good part of the night making out, and all she wanted to do was go home with him! Each time the girls were leaving to go to another bar he offered to take her back to his place. As much as she wanted to she thought it would be best if she hung out with the party for a little longer. At the end of the night, he said he was ready to go home and asked her to join him. She was just about to get in his car when the bride-to-be came up to her and begged her to not ditch them (like she had the tendency of doing) and join the party back at her place to finish up girls night. Not wanting to disappoint her friend she went home with the girls but made sure to exchange numbers with the hot hot man.


The next morning she woke up with a horrible itch and rash all around her mouth and neck. She rushed to the emergency room asking for an antibiotic and was quickly met by government medical officials. After having done testing on the irritation they had asked her about what types of things she had been in contact with because she had bacteria on her face that was common in deceased persons. The only thing she could come up with was the guy she met the night before. Officials contacted him and when they showed up to his home found... wait for it, get your nausea in check... 12 dead bodies. He had been eating, cooking and having sex with these bodies. He informed the gentlemen that the victims had all been women he picked up in bars, and if she had gone home with him the night before she would have been next!


No, this was not an episode of Dexter, this actually happened to someone. No the details have not become foggy, this is the story. If dating wasn't bad enough before, this will have you thinking twice before running off with the hottie at the bar. So now my list of upfront questioning is as follows:


* Are you single?
* Are you gay?
* Are you divorced?
* Do you have children?
* Do you have a job?
* Do you live with your mother?
* How many people have you slept with?
* Have any of those people been dead at the time?
* If so, did you kill them?
* If you do like to kill your dates, do you plan on eating me too?


What is this world coming to? On that note...I need a date for February... Hot Psychos Need Not Apply!

Thank You!

I thought that I could start this entry with wit and charm- but sometimes it's just best to rip the band-aid off!


While I was at jury duty last week, for two straight days I was searching the web for things to keep me occupied. I tried to access my blog site through my shortcut but it was blocked. Using those problem solving skills I developed in the second grade I was able to access the site through a Google search! When searching ''hopelessly passionate'' my blog was the first thing to pop up and below it was a link that someone had posted on facebook. This 'fan', if you will, had posted a link to my blog and encouraged his friends to read if they wanted to laugh, cry and just be entertained. I was flattered! Then I found comments to this posting where some girl called me “bitter, bitchy and pessimistic”. Well I never said I wasn't! And though I can be two out of those three (you can decide which), this chick doesn't know me so who is she to make such judgments?

I would just like to point out that while I tend to take the bitter and bitchy tone in my blog, it is all in good fun, good humor and good entertainment. Also, I pretended for far to long that life as all "peachy keen, fine and dandy” and truth is, it isn’t; so I write a blog about the shit that happens to me, the things I hate and the people that irritate me. Writing for me has turned into a form of therapy as well as a pastime, but I do it with hopes that whoever is reading this can find something to relate to, it’s in hopes that no one ever has to feel alone! New York City is a huge and scary place to live, and though you are surrounded by millions the loneliness can be daunting. I've lived the loneliness, I've lived the frustration- but I've learned that I'm not alone in my feelings. We can all get through the hard times when we know that there's safety in numbers! So thank you for reading and I hope you continue to come back for what I have to say, but if you find me bitchy, bitter and pessimistic and not at all entertaining ... feel free to move on, 'cuz I ain't stoppin'!

I'm Sorry!

I'm sorry. I apologize for neglecting you! I know you were concerned.  But no worries!  There was no fight, no hard feelings, just a very busy couple of weeks! So to make it up to you I bring you: STORY TIME! Here's a few of my favorites from the last few weeks! Always fun, always entertaining!



STORY ONE: Cancer Guy

I know... I'm going to hell. But this is the best way to reference the gentleman I had a conversation with at work the other night. A gentleman came to the bar with his wife, ordered a few beers, and went back into the ibis of the crowd. A little while later he came to the bar by himself and ordered two more beers. Without being prompted he went into a story about how he was so excited about being out having a few beers because he has cancer. The story goes as follows: "This is the first time in 2.5 months that I have felt any sort of relief. You'll know when you have cancer (hey- don't give me cancer), that you just feel this incredible weight on your shoulders while you try to determine your best course of action. Between meeting with different doctors and hearing different treatment processes I have been so stressed and unable to enjoy life, which is even worse when you consider my current prognosis. When you get cancer you'll know first hand about all these ups and downs you go through, it's mental warfare (once again- don't put cancer on me!). But today I came in from Long Island and met with the best doctor in the field of cancer that I have and I'm so excited now about the plan of treatment and the outlook for the future. This is the best day I've had in 2.5 months, and this beer is just helping so much. I feel like one beer is just hitting me a little bit harder than usual but it's probably because I don't feel all this stress and pressure. But you'll know all about that (Will I? WILL I?)."


Though I didn't like the pressure the gentleman was putting on me, I did have a sensitive moment where I was very moved by his story, and his telling me of the story. Though my initial jaded New Yorker reaction was- spare me the lies.  But I believe he was just moved to tell me his story and I was moved to give him the beers for free. I can be a bitch, but this bitch didn't feel right charging him after the intense 5 minutes of story telling he shared with me. He was grateful and took the beers to meet his wife. A few minutes later his wife came back to the bar to thank me for being so kind to her husband, and as she started to cry because of my sweet gesture she handed me a few dollars and went back to her table where her husband was waiting. Fast forward an hour, this same woman is storming out of the bar because she can't believe her husband was "flirting" with the TRASHY bartender. UMM? I'm slightly confused; you thank me, and then call me trashy? AWESOME!



STORY TWO: Computer Parts

I wish that this was my story, so much so that I might start passing it off as mine, but for now I can't take the credit. BUT, I swear this is a true story as told to me by a co-worker. His friend is the assistant to a magazine editor who was going out of town with her family for a week. Her boss asked her to watch their dog, a St Bernard, while they were gone. I should now mention that this assistant is pint size, think 5 foot 95 pounds, nothing but bones. So, she shows up to the house in Brooklyn to find that the dog is dead. This of course is incredibly unfortunate and if it had been me would have been slightly nauseating. She calls her boss to inform her of the loss of their pet and is given instructions to take the dog to the vet, who will hold on to him until they are able to come home and have a memorial. It's a little after midnight at this point and this poor girl needs to find a way to get this big dog to the vet’s office. She finds a suitcase, puts the dog inside it, and then proceeds to the subway. Why she didn't get a cab, I don't know?! After clunking down the steps and riding a few stops, she gets off to see the tallest flight of stairs imaginable. After schlepping the suitcase up a few steps (thump, thump, thump) a gentleman comes up behind her and offers to help her with it the rest of the way. Once they get to the top he asks her what could possibly be inside?  Because it was very heavy. She wasn't about to tell him that it was her boss's dead dog, so she said that it was computer parts from her office that she was moving to her apartment! He nods, then punches her square in the face, and runs down the street with the suitcase. That's the punch line! What else could possibly be said after that?  She's left standing at this stop in Brooklyn at 2am with a bloody nose and has to call her boss to inform her that her dog won't be making it to the memorial service, oh, and she no longer has a piece of pricey luggage!



STORY TWO FOLLOW-UP: My mom's spin on the story

I told the above story to my mom and she fell on the floor laughing! So in typical mom fashion, she shared this story with everyone she knows. And, people she doesn't know! My mother can't ever get through a joke or a funny story with a straight face, but apparently she can't read her audience either to know if said joke/story is appropriate and will be well received. The moral of this story: don't share a story about a dead dog in a suitcase with someone you have never met who walks into your place of business and asks you to hold their dog! In these situations it's very likely the dog is like a child to said person, which would be the equivalent to putting me in a suitcase and sharing the story with my mother- pretty sure this person isn't going to find it funny. And I'm pretty sure this person is going to start crying (and he did).