The Hub

"Dear Me at 30"

2011-10-25T23:58:00.000-04:00

Five years ago my friend Candace and I came up with the idea that we should write letters to ourselves at random moments in the years leading up to our thirtieth birthdays. Call it self-help, call it therapy, call it nuts. Whatever you want to call it, we did it, or at least I did, and I ended up writing myself several letters at various points throughout that time span. As I battle a head cold tonight, unable to sleep, the memory of them returned to me. So I find it only appropriate that I return to blogging by divulging bits of what I learned about myself...and about life in general.

"When I think back to my childhood, I'm reminded of a little girl with brown curly hair and big brown eyes who didn't know how not to portray the emotions she was experiencing at any given moment. She possessed an undying ambition to ham it up at every opportunity and utilize her wise-cracking mouth. (Pause) I guess I haven't changed much...but, to some degree, I've evolved." - 4/8/06

They say you can't get anywhere if you don't know where you came from and my first step toward growing up may have been coming to the realization that I'm not that much different than I was when I was five. And the second step: being okay with that. Being okay with who you are. I can't say I've fully grasped the second step yet, but I'm learning to...

"I worry that my talents will not get their chance to come to fruition."

That line is from the same letter. Firstly, why am I using words like fruition when I'm writing a letter to myself? Secondly, this was a worry that would trouble me desperately for the next four years. But it was this same worry that would propel me to bust my ass on weekends and create web content without a budget and hope that at some point it would all mean something to my future. Which leads me to a telling moment from another letter...

"I think the main reason I've never actively pursued my creative side is a fear of rejection. I hold my writing so close to my heart that if I'm told it sucks I may abandon it forever." -7/17/08

I was on the verge of completing my first web series, Linked, and feeling incredible pressure for it to be successful, not for just myself but for all those who had dedicated their free time to make it happen. I remember reaching a do or die point where I had to finalize the second half of the series, 40-50 pages of script, within a two day span. I sat on the porch of my family's beach house in North Carolina and was shaking from the pressure and fear that I couldn't finish the project. And then I told myself "Stop worrying about what you can't do and just DO." And after that...I wrote...and wrote...and I finished it. I look back now and know that I could have made the series even better had I had an actual budget, but I did what I could... and what I could turned into a project that made the series a finalist in a nationwide competition. But more so than that, it alleviated a bit of my fear. To say I am fearless now would mean that I have learned nothing at all. Fear drives me, without it I would be complacent.

"My life has changed so rapidly in the last few weeks that I can't seem to make sense of anything. I'm stuck on a ride that spins uncontrollably with a broken brake and I have no idea where I will land." -8/1/10

This was the beginning of a new chapter in my life...~~Scratch that.~~ This was the beginning of a whole new book! The year I spent as a twenty-nine year old (and the few months leading into it) would prove to be the most eventful (sad, happy, life-altering) year of my life... Or at least to date. I would spend the full year without a strongly significant other in my life, something I hadn't done since...since...Crap, was I ever single before this?? Simultaneously, I would attend four weddings of very close friends, then have several friends also give birth to children and through it all have my mother giving up on me and fearing she would never have her own grandchildren. She means well though, and when she found the cutest puppy in the world to call her own, she stopped beating me with the pressure of being the only child and continuing our family lineage. So with that off my plate, I relaxed and started to learn the difference between alone and lonely. And I was okay.

And in the midst of that biological and emotional chaos, I made a career change and left my stable and secure job in the corporate world for the ever-changing, never 100% stable, always energy-draining life that is the television business. Within one TV season, I learned and propelled to heights I'll admit I hadn't thought I could handle. And when that first chaotic season was behind me I stopped to reflect on it and realized that for the first time, I had to give myself some kind of credit. I may not be the best, but I'm good at this. And I can be better, and I will be, and then I'll try to be even better than that. I'll keep learning from others, their fortunes and their mistakes. And I will be grateful for having known them all.

As if I could pack anything else into my 29th year, I took two amazing trips; one to my family's homeland of Puerto Rico and one across the Atlantic to Europe. In PR I learned that what is usually familiar can become something wondrous when you're the one in charge of showing others what you know. And in Europe, as I made the journey on my own, I learned friendships aren't hard to come by when you're stuck on a bus with fifty people or viewing some of the most amazing sights our world has to offer us. And from both I learned that the places I've been are only the first steps towards where I will go in this lifetime.

So, as I sit here, writing all this and wondering how I should end it, I realize that there is no end...just more of life to look forward to.

"Dear Me at 40...I hope you are still learning. I hope you are not fully satisfied so that you keep striving to make a difference in your own life and that of others. I hope there is still some fear in you so that you will push yourself to reach greater heights. I hope that you have evolved... but I'll he happy to know that, deep down, you are still that little girl you first wrote about when you were 25..."

Planned Spontaneity

2011-02-14T08:30:00.004-05:00

I wouldn't say I grew up the most rambunctious and free-spirited of kids. I planned my Saturday morning cartoon marathons according to a schedule that included a breakfast break and cleaning duties. Twenty years later, I haven't proven to be much different than that little chubster. I make weekend plans several weeks in advance, organize my day around a timed distribution of snacks, and search for summer weekend getaways in February. It's just how I am.

But, in the last year, there are things outside of my control that take the luxury of planning away from me. I have a job that keeps me working around the clock and a diminishing list of single, childless friends to keep me company. The times I find myself free are usually last minute and, unfortunately, not when my my friends are available. I've been a bit cranky about it. Three weeks ago, on a Friday night, I desperately wanted tacos and cupcakes. (I know that's random, but one block length of Mott Street will bring you to both.) Sadly, no one was free to accompany me and I couldn't stand the thought of going alone, so I didn't. Instead, I pouted and stomped my way home.

This past Thursday, I regained a sense of purpose because I had a clear plan for my evening. I would take an uneventful subway ride to Houston & Allen Street to see my friend Nicholas Howard perform at Rockwood Music Hall. Simple as that. But, when I jumped on the F train, that plan immediately swerved off course...

I took a seat on the train, tired from my day, and pumped up the volume on my iPod. I did a little seat dancing to a Rhianna song in hopes of waking myself up. That's when I noticed the girl standing in front of me was doing the same thing, tapping her foot to a beat I couldn't hear. I was so caught up in admiring her stylish snow boots that it took me several minutes to look up at her face. When I did, my mouth nearly feel open.

Unless this woman has an identical twin in NYC, I was staring at America Ferrera. I nearly lost my sense of control and tugged on her arm. For those of you that don't already know, I had a serious love for the TV show Ugly Betty. It reminded me (almost too much) of my life as an assistant and of being the only Latino in my workplace. When the series ended I wrote a tribute to it on Huffington Post and caught the attention of Michael Urie, an actor on the show. While I love Michael, this moment with America may top my list of celebrity interactions... Except we never actually interacted.

I think the air changes the moment a person recognizes a celebrity, and the celebrity notices them ~~stalking~~ staring. I could almost feel her quick look into my eyes tell me "Please don't say anything, I just want to get home." Had I been standing next to her I would have simply mouthed the words, "I loved Ugly Betty." But, from my seated position this wasn't possible and so I rode with her standing three inches from me all the way to 2nd Avenue. When the train came to a stop, I gathered myself, and my longing need to expose her identity, and exited.

When I got above ground I immediately called Jonathan, who shared my love of UB, and left an explosive voice mail on his cell that was both rushed and, I'm sure, incomprehensible. I then got wind whipped back into sense and made my way down Allen Street toward Rockwood, all the while smiling and finding it hard to believe in my unplanned encounter.

I grabbed a table with Nick's parents, their friends and my mom who had actually made her way into the city for the performance. If you haven't seen it, Rockwood's stage 2 is a sexy venue, lit in such a way that everything looks hazily red except for the stage. I prefer the word intimate to small, but whichever you use, it is only worthwhile to know that it was filled up rather quickly. Nick jumped on around 7:30 and started things off with a newly written song that easily hooked the crowd and grabbed their attention for the rest of his set. The boy did his thing and (as his friend I can tell) is finding his comfort zone with the piano, making beautiful arrangements pulse through the air.

After Nick, the headliner, Maiysha, took the stage with her band. I'd heard her music briefly on iTunes but, if I'm going to be honest, it was only a small glimpse of what this gorgeous woman is capable of. I connected with nearly every song she sang, less because of the songs themselves and more because of her voice and performance. She was sassy and sexy, but only in a way that was wonderfully compelling instead of tacky. The emotion in her voice had a way of resonating with me. By the time she was done I was fully aware of the new fan she now had within me.

Hours after I had entered Rockwood dazed with the sighting of my TV icon, I left dazed by the vocals of two super talented musicians. I was on some weird entertainment high. My mother asked what I planned to do next and for once I wasn't really sure, I only knew that I didn't want to go home. That's when I got an unplanned text message from my friend Chris asking me if I was in the city. As it turns out he was only a few train stops away. So, I went along with this unplanned turn of events and joined him at Florencia 13 in the Village.

Chris and I met in March of 2006 when I stepped outside a club for fresh air and he decided to chat me up while he smoked a cigarette. One month away from exactly five years later, we're still close friends regardless of the fact that we rarely see each other. I ordered a glass of wine and he suggested I eat some tacquitos when I told him I hadn't had dinner. Over the next hour we caught up on our work lives, love lives (or lack thereof) and whatever else came to mind. We laughed at the fact that had we actually planned to get together, it may have taken months.

"That's the thing about life in New York, it's a plethora of random, unplanned moments," Chris said. I smiled.

The next day, I started writing this blog and planned to finish it at home that evening, but I was sidetracked by a conversation I was having with Jonathan via text.

Me: It's Friday and I'm going home to write a blog. I'm a loser.

Jon: Call me right now.

I call Jonathan. He answers and before he can say anything I jump in with, "Before you tell me I need to stop whining and man up and remember what's good in my life, let me just tell you that there's a box filled with nails that I'd rather go stand in barefoot."

"Listen, hot mess, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to ask you if you want to meet up for happy hour," was his answer. Well, that was unexpected. Locking down plans with Jon is something I usually start to put together at least two months in advance. This was a treat.

I met him and his friend Nicole at the Adidas store on Houston. After my shoes were complimented, which flattered me considering I see both Jon and Nicole as highly fashionable people, we zig-zagged our way through SoHo to Sweet & Vicious. Nicole suggested a frozen margarita, something the place is known for and I easily obliged when I found out it came in a mason jar. As we sipped the slushy wonderfulness, we chatted about music and the OWN network. Nicole had to dip out shortly thereafter, leaving Jon and I to our usual devices. And by devices I mean Jon saying so many hilarious one liners that I ended up quoting him on Twitter repeatedly. For example: "Why is 'Depression Advice' following me on Twitter?" and, my personal favorite of the evening, "When your undergarments can check in to separate places on Four Square, you're a whore." If you're not yet aware of why I love this guy, you haven't been reading my blogs closely enough.

By 930pm, the week was weighing on me and I was getting sleepy. Jon's friend Carolina arrived, giving me the out I needed to not feel bad about leaving him at the bar. I hugged them all goodbye and then headed out. There was only one problem...I was starving.

I looked up at the street sign as I walked. I was closing in on Spring and Mott Street. Which meant that if I turned right I would end up on Mott between Spring and Prince...which was exactly where my tacos and cupcakes were located. This was the place I had wanted to visit three weeks ago. There I was, alone and in very cool shoes with a rumbling stomach. I took a deep breath, walked up to Pinche Taqueria and opened the door.

A burst of loud voices and laughs greeted me, as the place was filled with a group of people who were clearly friends gathering between bar hops. I ordered my two tacos and walked over to a small, unoccupied table. No one looked at me weird and I didn't do something strange like implode. I just sat and ate the delicious braised pork tacos.

Over the course of two evenings I had two unplanned, but totally welcomed meet-ups, a celebrity sighting, had fantastic music touch my ears, and an experience of eating on my own. Life is continually changing...and I'm starting to think it's not such a bad thing.

In the Land of Mini-Films

2011-02-03T23:49:00.000-05:00

To say I've stepped out of my comfort zone in the last six months of my life would be an understatement. It's been more like a leap, followed by a 1000 meter dash, finished with a long jump. Between job changes and personal changes, I've all but buried the person I used to be. But I've managed to keep in tact the core of what made me who I am, and I attempt to continue a building process. I'm not sure a process such as this ever ends, but at least I'm aware of it.

Over the last three years I've been a producer of web series, with a special interest in comedy and sci-fi. When I landed my current job on a medical/health show I nearly panicked. How could I possibly mesh my background with this new endeavor? Well, six months later I've learned, that wasn't really the point. The point, little Lauren, is that no matter what you do, you need to make it interesting. You need to tell a story that the audience can connect to.

With this piece of knowledge in mind, not only did I begin to find comfort and confidence in what I was doing with the show, I began to incorporate it into what was once my only means for self-expression, but is now more of a hobby. I began to think of my next side project. And that's when I started to work with Nicholas Howard...

Nicholas and I met last April in the way many people meet these days... via Twitter-conversation. I had written a Huffington Post article on his and Louis Colon's iPhone App (MySneakers) and he had Tweeted me a thank you note. Our online friendship continued sporadically until we met in person at an industry function later that summer. Meeting Nick was like buying a new car and then suddenly seeing it pass you by at every crosswalk; after meeting him we kept bumping into each other and, thanks to our shared abilities of intuitiveness and blunt commentary, became actual friends.

Among other things, like learning he's the owner of two humans trapped in feline bodies (shout out to Lucky & Cookie!), I learned he was a very talented musician. Having already released two independent albums that focused on his vocal talents, Nick was amidst the process of mastering the ability to sing and play the piano simultaneously. I visited venues where he would test the musical waters and later hear him recount his interpretation of the experience. Watching him tell these stories, and being witness to his passion for the craft reminded me of my own love for filmmaking. And that's when the idea came: Why not shoot my first documentary and make Nick's music the subject? Granted I have not the time nor means to pull together a full feature production, but 5-8 minutes? Sure!

Over the course of a few weekends, we made a couple of runs around NYC, and gathered videos and photos of Nick's past. I interviewed his friends and family, grabbed shots of him playing the piano, working in his studio and giving candid commentary. I started to pull together a layer of sense. While in other productions my involvement topped out at producing, acting, directing and editing, this new attempt also included being the director of photography. It wasn't the easiest of tasks, but I found myself loving every minute of it.

Being that filmmaking is still a hobby for me and is treated as such, reaching the final cut of the production took a bit longer than I would have liked. But in the end, when I sat back to watch it in full I felt...proud. It wasn't so much that I had achieved at bringing the thing together on my own, it was that, while I watched it I felt as if I was learning about Nick for the first time. I was taking it in as if I hadn't been the one to construct it, and that felt somewhat surreal. As much as I've changed, my core need to create lives on and will always finds its way to the surface in an attempt to remind me of who I've always been.

So without further ado....

If you're a YouTube user, you can also find the video (and other performances) on Nick's YouTube page: http://www.youtube.com/NicholasHowardMusic and you can hear his music on his artist site: www.NicholasHowardMusic.com

Culture. Schmulture.

2010-12-23T15:12:00.002-05:00

I want to be cooler.

Not in an overall acceptance kind of way. I want to be the kind of person who makes the most of living in one of the world's most fascinating cities. I've been alive for 29 years and stomped my way through Brooklyn and Staten Island while making a small mark in NYC itself, yet I don't feel like I've fully seen it. And I want to...badly.

I'm not the best at being a loner, and I don't see that as a fault. I like to share my experiences and small joys with those that will get the same fulfillment from them. Most recently, my friend Jon has attributed to this aspect of my life in ways he may not even be aware of. I think I relinquished my will to his demand after a night of theater and binge drinking months ago, but that's a whole other story...The planning of yesterday's outing started on Monday with the following conversation.

Jon: What are you doing Wednesday?
Me: Anything you want me to.
Jon: Galleries. Lots of 'em.
Me: I'm in.

Immediately my Google calendar began buzzing with invites that began at 10am Wednesday morning and extended through the afternoon. A little overzealous? Maybe. But I held no doubt that the day would prove rewarding.

I arrived in SoHo a bit after 10am. The weather definitely felt of Christmas but it was pleasant enough to not have to build my clothing into layers of puff. I wore my sunglasses, Boho hat, and blended into the crowd. When I can walk around on Spring and W Broadway, easily stop in at any store and buy items without a second thought, that's when I'll know I've made it, financially speaking, in life... Until then I'll stick with the sale racks.

When I found myself in front of what would have been our first stop, I saw Jon was not there. A cell phone ring later, we were chatting and I was told he was still on his way.

Me: You realize you're totally going against the gay stereotype with your lack of punctuality, right?
Jon: Go f**k yourself.

I *heart* him.

I later sent him this photo from an Anthropolgie dressing room and told him he owed me $185 and would have to carry my shopping bags all day.

Forty-five minutes later I'm drinking an Americano coffee in a cafe called Ground Stop. It's the kind of place where everyone looks like they just walked out of a European sample sale and are adorned with non-prescription glasses. I sip my brew and wait for Jon who arrives with his signature smile. He doesn't want coffee, he wants art, so we make our way out of bourgeoisville and across the street to our first stop... which turns out to be closed down.

Well then. A walking journey takes us to the SoHo Photo Gallery...which doesn't open for several hours.

Me: If you wanted me to start preparing for the marathon with you, you could have just said so. No need for the elaborate "we're going on a gallery walk" cover story.
Jon: They were open...in my mind.

We jumped the E train and walked toward the Hudson River on 23rd street. Between loading docks and nightclubs we came to a building filled with various galleries. One floor introduced us to a set of artwork that was on the market for $10,000. I kept my hands in my pockets and made sure not to allow my inner klutz near anything in the room.

As we made our way uptown, we found more hidden gems and popped into several more galleries. We saw photos that amazed us and artwork that elicited the following responses:
Jon: I feel like I'm camping with hillbillies.
Me: I think my 6 year old goddaughter could have done a better job.
It's all about interpretation.

Amongst a slew of warehouses and cobble-stoned streets we found a chain of galleries, where we stopped in on a Jeff Bailey exhibit and came across a 1950s photo of our friend Billy Yoder's long lost relative. (It's not, but sure as heck looks like him!)

It was closing in on 1pm and our stomachs were starting to grumble, but before heading to the Upper East side we returned to the SoHo Photo gallery. There we found a pleasant gallery manager, an amazing experiment with color by a photographer named Rick Sammon, and the coolest bathroom I've ever tinkled in.

Afterward, I had an official food headache so we ended the gallery portion of our day and jumped the train to Taco Taco, a (clearly) Mexican restaurant on 2nd avenue between 89th and 90th streets.

Me: Is the food good?
Jon: I don't know. I only know they have fantastic Horchata.
Me: (perplexed) You mean they play Vampire Weekend songs on rotation.
Jon: (deep breath) No. Horchata, the drink.
Me: It's real??
Jon: (pats my hand) Realer than Santa Claus.

We take a seat by the window, because that's the scenic thing to do and not because we thought it through and realized how cold we'd end up. Jon orders us Horchatas and when the milk-shake-like-thing-topped-with-cinnamon arrives I take a sip, then ten and soon enough my drink is gone. Obviously, I hated it.

I ordered steak fajitas, Jon orders something a friend recommended. We eat like starved artists and Jon, after wiping his mouth delicately with a single napkin, proclaims, "This is amazing." I, after using not one but three napkins at once and still chewing on steak say, "Hell yes."

Itis sets in and I'm mapping out my plan to return home. Jon begins one of his speeches.
Jon: You have a demanding profession.
Me: This is true.
Jon: You're on holiday.
Me: I'm amazed by your power of observation.
Jon: There's no way in hell I'm letting you go home at 3pm.
Me: But I'm tired.
Jon: Drink a damn Redbull, Lauren. You're 29. What would you do at home?
Me: Sleep.
Jon: In other words, be a loser.
Me: Not sure I would have put it that way but-
Jon: I won't let you do this!

My willpower is sitting on the plate in front of him.

Me: Fine. What do we do?

Jon whips out his Blackberry as I tuck my now dead Droid into my purse. Little Fockers is playing just a few streets away and will help us kill a few hours before the Beatz & Brands showcase. If I'm going in, I'm making it worth it.

The sun is starting to set as we walk toward 86th street. I'm distracted by wondering if we're walking in the right direction. In doing so I miss the sight of a unicycler almost running me over. I turn to Jon who is looking at me dumbfounded.

Me: What?
Jon: Don't tell me you did not see that.
Me: What?
Jon: Lauren a unicycle almost ran you over just now.
Me: What? Where?
Jon: You know those leashes they put children on? I'm buying one for you. Walk!

We make it to the theater with enough time to grab center seats. A guy behind me kicks my chair. A couple in front of me decides to take an abnormally long time to sit down. Then they giggle and talk.

Jon: (waving his hat at them) You two! (to me) Shit, I thought we were obnoxious.

We're lost in the funniness of Ben Stiller and Robert De Niro for a few hours before gathering our belongings and jumping the train once more to Bowery. As we resurface I see a familiar face walking ahead of us. Al, my brother from another mama, is headed to the same event. He falls into step with us as we're carded at the entrance.

Me: There's liquor here?
Al: Open bar by Belvedere.
Me: Well color me drunk!

Vodka and soda in hand, I work my way around the space checking out fashions by MadeMe and jewelry by Endless Noise NYC. Beautiful stuff. Catch up conversations with Kathy Iandoli and Nicole of Nina Sky. Then returned to my post by Al so we could talk life. A few vodkas later, my doll of a lady friend, Jenny, arrives and shares the news that she's landed a new gig after months of unemployment. If that's not a reason for another vodka, I don't know what is!

By 9:30pm I'm falling apart at the seams. I look at Jon pleadingly.
Me: Please tell me I've put in my cool time and am allowed to go home now.
Jon: You've done well, grasshopper. We can leave.

After saying goodbye to our mutual friends we share a cab to Grand Central. Surely I rambled on about something that I'm not sure I remember and then we are suddenly at the end of our journey.

Jon: Listen hot mess, make sure you get home safe and text me.
Me: Same.
Jon: Next week, Amy Winehouse and George Michael are storming Frenchtown.
Me: Which one of us is Amy Winehouse?
Jon: (stares at me.)
Me: Fine. But I'm not sporting a beehive unless you grow some facial hair.

We hug. We part.

I jump my train and start writing this blog.

Life...

..... is Good.

Flash. Music. Legend.

2010-11-18T19:00:00.001-05:00

A flashy website has debuted for music legend Jay-Z. Check out my opinion on this Huffington Post blog:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-j-rivera/jayzs-social-media-experi_b_783614.html

My Return to Web TV

2010-10-23T10:56:00.001-04:00

As most of my friends know I'm not the most girly of girls. I have a very small amount of female friends. I prefer sneakers to high heels. And I pee standing up. Kidding! (Although if that were true life might me much easier.)

At one point last year I resorted to filling my calendar with a bunch of girl dates, hoping I'd expand my female friend base. Some of these pairings worked out, but others were a hot mess and almost comical. From the latter an idea popped into my head.

What if I create a web series about this process and call it "Girl Date"?

I shared my thoughts with my go-to comedy writer extraordinare, Jaime Fernandez (The Work Jerks), and we bounced around ideas for a series. Jerry Diaz (Room 28 Comedy), joined in on the fun for a bit of it and soon we had six solid episodes penned. But after all was said and done, we had one small problem: the title was limiting.

"What if there's a second season?" I asked. "Maddie (lead female character) can't keep going on dates."

We made a list of words that described Maddie and one of the adjectives was "ungirly." When I said the word aloud it lingered on my tongue. I ran it by Jaime who agreed it was simple and yet summed up everything our little show had to offer...And so there you have it, the birth of unGirly...But that's not the end of the story.

Casting was our next order of business and a large order it was. What had already been determined is that I would play Maddie, Jaime would play Jonathan and Jerry would play Joey (Maddie's best friends.) Yet we still had six actresses to cast as Maddie's counterparts for each episode. Without blinking I turned to the always hilarious Rachel Strauss (The Work Jerks) and asked her to make a guest appearance on the show. She enthusiastically agreed and I was at ease...for 5 minutes. There were still five slots left.

While we do know a lot of talented people, we also felt it was time to branch out and pull from a new pool of actors. I put together an ad on Craigslist and within a day had an overwhelming amount of head shots and resumes to sort through.

Over the course of a week we auditioned a slew of girls and each time we were thoroughly impressed. After deliberations we chose our five and felt confident that our cast would be a successful one. At this point I should mention we'd also booked an actor named Billy Yoder to play opposite Maddie in a short date scene for the first episode. It was such a small role that we didn't bother having Billy audition, his online work credited him enough. Simple as that.

After a couple of preparation weeks we were ready to start filming. There was just one problem...We lost Jerry. Not like the way a mom temporarily loses her kid at the mall, but like, to another production. We fully understood Jerry's need to take the other opportunity, but understanding didn't lessen the huge issue looming before us: who would play Joey, the idiotic perv of the group?? As I watched Billy Yoder's online work once more, the answer hit me.

"Jaime, what if you play Joey and we try Billy as Jonathan?"

Jaime looked up at me, spoon full of Cocoa Pebbles half way to his mouth, "That's a great idea." I called Billy to first see if he'd even be free to shoot on our scheduled 4 days of filming. When he agreed to that, we brought him in for a run-through.

As we chomped our way through sandwiches and staged some cold reads, we found a rhythm. With Billy playing the less manic but still comical Jonathan, Jaime playing dimwitted Joey and me playing, well, an exaggerated version of myself, we were golden. It felt right.

On June 5th we held our first eight hour shoot. Staging my apartment as the roomies' home, we filmed a bulk of scenes that would play out across all episodes. (Easter Egg** over the course of shooting I lost almost 15 pounds. There are scenes in almost every episode where I'm at first thin, later not so thin and then back to thin. I'm probably the only one that notices, but I still think it's funny - like Kristen Stewart's obvious wig in New Moon.)

It was over the course of that first day where we really honed in on our characters and developed the chemistry that I believe plays out in every episode. Add to the mix the fantastic actresses we booked and you have what I consider to be an unforgettable collaboration.

You can check out all details and episodes of the show by visiting: http://www.unGirlyTheWebSeries.com

Enjoy!

Photos, Gardens & Friendship

2010-09-28T10:30:00.046-04:00

When it comes to female friends, I don't have many. I've always been somewhat of a tomboy and felt more comfortable around dudes (and what a surprise that I'll be releasing a web series about that in October!) So when I find a girl I genuinely enjoy being around, I latch on like a sea barnacle.

One of my best female friends is Judie. We met maybe 4 years ago through an online book club than moved our friendship out of cyberspace and into the real world a year later. Since then, she's gotten engaged and made me her maid of honor, and in turn, I force her to listen to stories about every aspect of my life. Even if her ear starts to bleed, the woman continues to hold that receiver to it. A saint I tell ya!

Judie also happens to be a very talented photographer. She's taken head shots of me in the past, but this time around I didn't want to be just a subject. I wanted to learn about her craft which is so much more than point and shoot. There's lighting and focusing and knowing what the hell is worth aiming your lens at. In an effort to silence my whining, she agreed to spend the day with me at the Botanical Gardens this past Saturday.

Considering the temperature has been rather cool in NY lately, we figured it would remain the same as we made our way toward the garden. Alas! Summer returned on that fateful day! And ironically, only for that day as the weather quickly returned to brisk 24 hours later. Despite the ample amount of perspiration that found its way to our foreheads, we both posed for each other and came home with an array of portraits and pretty memories. Check them out by clicking on the albums:

My Photos

Judie's photos of me
Judie actually added some cool photoshop effects to some of the photos which I'm sure she'll end up posting on her blog some time soon.
After spending several hours looping around the beautiful landscape that is the garden, we took our tired butts back to her neighborhood to have some helado (yum!) and say hi to Juan before I had to bounce off to my next destination. It had been quiet an experience not just because of the beauty we were able to capture, but because of the time I was able to spend with a friend who shares more than just my biology make up. She gets me and accepts me for who I am. Love you lady!

Make sure to watch the video in 720p - clarity on Judie's camera amazes me.

The Difference Between Alone and Lonely

2010-09-06T20:20:00.001-04:00

I'm a walking contradiction when it comes to being a loner...because I'm really not one.

I enjoy being solo, but only within the confines of my own home. The minute I step outside I feel the immediate need to be accompanied by someone, regardless of my destination. I'm not sure of the cause, and I'm not going to bore you with some self-analytical babble. It's just who I am. Or who I was...

Thanks to various changes in the last three months of my life, I found myself alone at the beginning of Labor Day weekend. The weather was gorgeous. Birds sang for me to join them outdoors. And a laundry list of fresh herbs I needed to purchase brought my attention to Chinatown. A trip into the city was a simple answer. The only issue was getting over the shock that I couldn't remember when was the last time I had ventured to do so on my own. It was slightly unbelievable to acknowledge the fact that I'd only ever hung out in downtown NY when in the presence of friends, family or a significant other. But, that says a lot about who I used to be.

I set out on an 1130am Metro North train to Grand Central where I then subway hopped my way to Prince Street. When I climbed out of the depths of smelly metal, I was met by a flood of tourists. After making my way through the crowds to Spring Street, I unsuccessfully attempted to talk down a woman trying to sell me a straw fedora for $15. After crossing the street I came in contact with a similar hat whose owner had no problem letting it go for $10. I contemplated walking back passed the original vendor, new hat sitting nicely on my head, but then forfeited my spite after seeing a sign for Uniq Lo (clothing store.) A pair of $30 jeans fit me perfectly except for the fact that the pant legs fell way past my toes. Either I'm shrinking, or every store now only stocks pants for people of runway model height. How happy was I to find out the store alters pants and jeans for free! Some small part of me wanted to believe this was my little treasure, that I wouldn't have learned about it had I not been wandering on my own.

After my purchase I remembered the Chinatown mission I had yet to complete. I crossed over to Mott street and headed South. Popping into several stores, I tried my best to pronounce the list of herbs my acupuncturist had told me to ask for. I was either met with blank stares, American accents or variations of what I was actually looking for. Although I didn't find the exact ingredients, I was enthralled by the natural medicines and smells of various herbs and tea leaves. Making a mental checklist, I added Asia as part of my future world travels then headed to Italy (aka Mulberry Street.) There I grabbed a seat at a sidewalk table and devoured a slice of pizza while watching passersby choose what restaurants they wanted to settle in. I was surrounded by noise and conversation, but at my own table I sat in silence. A weird sense of satisfaction overcame me. If I could have sat there for several hours, I would have. On a date with myself.

En route to visiting my mother, the last stop of this trip, I climbed the Staten Island Ferry, something I hadn't done in quite some time. It had been so long, actually, that I came close to feeling like a tourist and buying a hot dog. Like a four alarm fire, my digestive system (and overall health) screamed "No!" and so I sat and took photos with my phone instead.

At the end of my day these photos were my bounty. And as a result, I was left thinking this whole being alone thing is given such a bad rap. It's not being alone. It's just being comfortable with yourself.

(RetroCam app rocks! Android)

Risk

2010-08-23T22:45:00.000-04:00

I’ve spent nearly 28 years of my life playing it safe. A stable lifestyle with occasional spurts of passion. Sure, it wasn’t at all a bad way to live, but with every waking moment there was a truth I had a hard time acknowledging: this wasn’t me. I was living this life because I was told it was what I should do. It was where I should stay to secure my future. But what’s the point of securing a future if you’re not living in the moment?

Enter risk; the arch-nemesis I didn’t know I’d been battling. Risk in the flesh was a way of life so unlike the one I’ve been living it wasn’t even something I was aware of until 2007. It was then that I met someone whose belief in me and support of me brought me to realize that I may possess a thing called talent. A talent that could be fostered into a, dare I say it, career.

When this light bulb flickered I came to see there were people in this world who didn’t work simply as a means of income, but as an outlet for some unique talent. I wanted to join this group of elites, but I knew there was a price to pay. Dedication. Hard work. Sacrifice... And I was ok with that. I’d spent the last 3 years of my life dedicating Spring and Summer weekends to producing my web series and shorts while dealing with a 9-6 job during the week. All the while I was constantly asked, “Why do you spend your free time doing this if you’re not getting paid?” I’ll admit, there were times I wasn’t so sure myself. But, when my Sony commercial made its rounds, the desire to make my passion my profession was overwhelming…and the thought of making the jump was scary as hell.

A talk with my mentor brought me down from the fence I’d been straddling and landed me on the side of change. “Production is where your heart is. If you don’t take this chance now it may be too difficult for you to do so later on,” she told me. I knew she was right, so when I got the call to interview for an associate field producer position on an Emmy award winning daytime TV show I went for it…and landed it.

Being the crew had already been back from hiatus for a few weeks, they needed me asap. The 2 weeks that followed my acceptance of the offer were some of the most hectic I’ve ever lived. It wasn’t just the transition, I was dealing with serious personal issues, family issues, the loss of 2 years worth of editing (thank you guy who stole my harddrive!), a wrecked bathroom (thank you upstairs neighbor!), and an annoying physical reaction to all the stress (hello hives!) So believe me, I understand that when it rains, it tsunamis. And following with another cliche, I’ll add that what didn’t kill me did make me stronger and ready for the insanity I would experience once I started my new position.

Today, with a full week of being an AP under my belt, I can say that I have no regrets. I’ve already experienced a few things like...my first 14 hour day... the uncertainty of not knowing when I’ll be able to wrap up and go home...wondering if I'll be called on a field shoot in the middle of my cousin's bday party...the delicious tasting food of a celebrity chef...the feeling that I’m very much needed for the skills I possess...the adrenaline rush caused by last minute chaos. And through it all, something deep down tells me I was born for this.

For the first time in my professional life I feel I’ve landed not on a job, but a career. I have to do what I love on purpose. It’s both daunting and enthralling, but now that I’m here, I can’t imagine living life any other way.

The Reunion - Part 4 (Finale)

2010-07-28T09:00:00.001-04:00

I'm not sure it's ever taken me this long to write a story about a 5 day vacation. Let's just say my life has been flipped upside down over the last few weeks leaving me with a depleted amount of creative super powers. However, I don't enjoy unfinished storytelling. So, without further adieu, the conclusion...

Saturday morning, after maybe 4 or 5 hours of sleep we awoke unable to continue slumbering about nor able to get out of bed. It wasn't actually a hangover, it was dehydration mixed with complete laziness. Around 2pm we finally got moving and gathered the outfits we were wearing to Pablo's wedding. Contrary to how this seems, Adonis, Bru and I did not coordinate these colors prior to the trip.

Collective fashionable minds. Purple, and its many shades, is just a hot color.

I dedicated a blog entry regarding Pablo's wedding on my other site Everyone's Wedding But Mine. Check the site for the full details of our time spent within the boundaries of El Conquistador Hotel and Resort.

In the end, we unanimously agreed that it had been one of the very best weddings we'd ever attended.We thought about continuing the evening at Drums but by the time we reached our hotel rooms, we wanted nothing more than sleep. Sunday would be our last full day on the island and we hoped to make the most of it.

We awoke fully refreshed and in the mood for some local interaction. After visiting Mi Casita and filling our bellies with yummy omelets, we dropped by Charlie Car Rental to grab a vehicle for the day before heading to Carolina's public beach. Although it is not far from the tourist area of Isla Verde, this beach is clearly of a different nature. Large families camp out across the sand with grills, coolers and BBQ pits. The smell of fried food and the sounds of salsa fill the air. Little kids run a muck, somersaulting across the waves and shouting games of hide and seek in the currents. There is a ton of laughter and an overall sense of fun. We soaked it up, hoping that on this last full day of our vacation, we might somehow bring it back with us to NY.

With the sun dipping in and out of clouds that produced rain sprinkles while also allowing through sunshine, we laid about for an hour or two before moving on to the next portion of our day trip. Knowing a bit about this North East section of the island, I guided the boys to an area called Los Pinones . As we drove through the slow moving traffic, our mouths watered at the sight of several road side shacks boasting foods like bacalaítos (cod fish), pastelitos and pollo frito (fried chicken.) We made a pit stop for some wood crafted souvenirs before landing at a shack that smelled the most oily...which means that it would have the most delicious tasting food. We were not let down.

The more I write the more I'm amazed that we didn't all gain 10 pounds on this trip. Ironically, I came home two pounds lighter. Maybe the oil helped wash the fat off my fat?

Later in the evening we found our way to Old San Juan, one of Puerto Rico's premiere historical sites. Regardless of the fact that I've visited this area many times over the years, the effect of its colonial beauty is never lost on me.

Pretty isn't it? So full of history. And what better way to celebrate history (and Spain winning the World Cup) than by downing a few beers from a microbrewery?!

After eating once more (I believe the place was called Mojito- right??) the rain began to fall yet again and so we loaded ourselves back into our rental car and joined Dex and Stephanie at the El San Juan Hotel lobby.

There are nights where the lobby is quite the party, filled with the sounds of a live salsa band. This wasn't one of those nights. Old timer jazz and the kind of people that listen to such things (read: aged) filled the lobby and so we left to pursue a younger crowd back at Drums. One problem: it was Sunday. The club walls were filled with us, a band lead by the craziest, gyrating-centric, singer we've ever seen perform and his random followers, which equaled about ten bodies. We stuck around for a bit simply because the man was entertaining in a "this is so crazy I can't look away" type of manner. However, after the long day of sunning, walking and eating, our sleepiness got the best of us and we called it a night rather early, retreating very sadly down the road to our hotel one last time.

Monday's morning rays crept through our blinds in a taunting way. From the moment we all awoke you could sense the mood change. The three of us hardly spoke unless necessary, an overall emotional dampness filled the room. The boys went to return the rental car while I grabbed some last moments of sun on the beach. When they returned, I joined them upstairs where we packed our belongings and rattled our suitcases down to the La Playita restaurant for our last meal. Adonis and I chose cheddar cheeseburgers while Bru had his last mofongo. I checked his skin color. It was surprisingly red for someone who should be banana yellow by now. And how could we leave without a last taste of our favorite desserts?

Before the cab came to drive us away from our weekend paradise we snapped one last photo in our "backyard."

At the airport we were pretty quiet until the Gonzalez clan joined us. It's hard to stay quiet around that funny and happy family. While the boys gawked at some lovely ladies boarding our flight, I looked out at the airport and the palm trees beyond. I sighed so loud several people turned to look at me... or maybe they were looking at the model-like woman behind me. Ehh.

We found our seats, prepared for the three hour flight ahead of us and I pulled out my laptop. I began this blog... but not before snapping yet another photo of Bru falling asleep with his mouth open.

And then I turned to my window and caught the last glimpse of our beautiful island before it was nothing more than a speck at the far corner of the plane's wing.

As I said a silent goodbye, I thought about the four years that had passed since my last visit. I thought about all I'd been through since then, about all that has changed. I thought it was ironic that I was returning home to change. Big changes. I took a deep breath.

I got through them once before.

I could do it again.

The Reunion- Part 3

2010-07-23T11:21:00.000-04:00

If there was one thing we knew how to do in Puerto Rico, it was eat.

Lunch on Thursday found us at Lupis- a quasi-Rican-Mexican joint where the boys chomped down on their first mofongo (a mashed plantain dish stuffed with your choice of shrimp, meat, etc) and I began my binge on tostones (fried plantains.) The food was good, but apparently we tasted better. Just ask the brigade of mosquitoes that decided to chomp on us while we ate. Ouch. Never eating there again.

After several hours in the sun we were only motivated to walk a few feet to dinner, which is why we ended up at La Playita- the restaurant within our own hotel. The boys tried fish while I sucked away at chicharron de pollo (fried chicken pieces) and my second serving of tostones. I was convinced FRIED bananas would contain less carbs than rice (idiot.) My food was yummy although the boys weren't too happy with their fish. Dessert was the saving grace for all of us. I had the most perfect flan (custard) I've ever tasted while Adonis lost his mind over a chocolate cake and Bru devoured a coconut cheesecake without breathing. Then our 7 foot water Yuri took a photo of us.

It is amazing that we were able to make it out that night with our bellies so full of Puerto Rican goodness. By 1030pm we were making rounds in Isla Verde. Per my suggestion we headed down to The Water Club hotel which has a swanky rooftop bar. Apparently the memo didn't make it out proclaiming this was the spot to be on a Thursday night because no one was there. Regardless, our small crew joined by Dex's brothers, had a fine time chatting it up while overlooking the beach.

Who says late 20/early 30 year-olds stay up all night? Not us. Our old asses were in bed by midnight...But up the next morning to hit the beach without fail. I had a tan to work on dammit!

After another day on the beach, the boys and I decided to troop down the avenue to Mi Casita which came highly recommended by my mom. Once again frick and frack ordered mofongo. I started to worry that Bru would turn in to a giant mound of yellow mushiness by the time our trip was over. Ironically though, that would mean I would also turn into a tostone since that was all I ate. (Earlier I had snuck down to La Playita while the boys were out and chowed down on a delicious arugula and steak salad.) After Adonis swallowed his last piece of mash and Bru slurped up his sauce with a straw (he really did), we headed back to our hotel.

Horribly lethargic and awaiting Lebron's decision (gag me!), we three lounged around our room without much motivation to do anything else. However, I had two of my female cousins on the way and there was no chance in hell they'd let it be a slow night. The first cousin to arrive was Carmen who met me down at the bar of our hotel. I hadn't seen Carmen in over four years and above all else it was the first time we were hanging out as adults without our parents. As she and I threw back a beer and caught up on family news, Adonis and Bru joined us. Jessie, my long term friend who migrated to PR when she was a preteen, showed up soon thereafter and we quickly joked about our childhood thanks to pics she had brought for show and tell.

We contemplated what to do with our evening when suddenly the DJ played some merengue and got us all in the mood to dance. The natives suggested we hit up Drums, a local club not far from our hotel. Chugging the rest of my beer, I lead the crew to the club where we were greeted with reggaeton beats and cheap drinks. A bucket of some form of jungle juice had us laughing and dancing like fools. A live band played Shakira hits and other songs native to Puerto Rico which the girls seemed to understand but had Adonis, Bru and I giving each other blank stares. Even with our cluelessness the fun never ended...Until 4am when the lights came on and the music stopped.

I closed down a club. I thought old timers couldn't do such things!

As we returned to the hotel, drenched in sweat, one of us came up with the miraculous idea of jumping into the ocean. I can only say it wasn't me...and yet I was one of the ones that did it. What started out as a good idea turned brutal when I bang the bottom of my foot on a rock and Bru tripped and scrapped up his shin. In the end though, all we could do was laugh.

And then Jessie got hungry. Or maybe we all did. And so our journey of food consumption continued as we changed and headed to Denny's where we were met by a horde of clubgoers. Once at the table I did what I do best at diners - fell asleep.

I awoke to the sound of silverware crashing onto plates. Everyone was done eating and Jessie was softly pushing me out of the booth. As we exited Denny's I blinked several times. "Is that the sun?!" I asked aloud. Adonis confirmed my suspicion. It was in fact 6:30 in the morning.By the time we reached our beds the sun was in full bloom and I had to hide my head under a pillow.

It had been a fun and memorable evening. There was only one problem...we had to be up in less than 5 hours to get ready for Pablo's wedding. Ouch.

The Reunion- Part 2

2010-07-18T09:22:00.001-04:00

The night before our flight, none of us slept. Therefore, when we arrived at Newark airport at 530am on July 8th, it was no surprise that we greeted each other with grunts instead of hugs. The most verbal communication I had was greeting the Gonzalez clan (Dex’s fam had joined us) and asking where the bathroom was.

Boarding on time, Bru and I found our adjoining seats while Adonis smiled at the sight of two single ladies whose row he’d be joining. I don’t think we were even off the ground before I caught the first of many moments where Bru would fall asleep with his mouth wide open.

I tried to sleep myself, but alas I could not. Instead, I watched How to Train Your Dragon which was entirely entertaining. Three hours later we touched down in San Juan. Sun and a little cloud cover greeted us.

Bru, Adonis and I headed straight to the hotel while Dex and Stephanie (his wife) joined their family for lunch. The hotel was at the East most end of the Isla Verde beach, reaching two levels and quaint. I met Linda who was thrilled to find out I live in her old neighborhood and consequently not pissed at the 15 times I had called her over the last month. She directed us to room 207.

We entered the room and this was our view.

Adonis stood beside me. “I want this to be the view outside my bedroom at home. Think you can work some magic and make that happen?” In his not serious yet serious demeanor he replied, “I’ll see what I can do.” That Adonis, always coming through for me!

I called my cousin Jessie who informed us that Puerto Rico had endured a crappy summer thus far, filled with rain and humidity. “If you even see a peek of sun, go lay out because that’s all you’re going to get.” With that advice we changed into our bathing suits and found a spot on the beach. While I soaked up rays, the boys did what boys do and commented on every chic that passed us by. If women watching were a sport, these boys would win the gold medal.

Dips in the ocean introduced us to the most refreshing sensation of cool, but not cold, water. Bru bobbed up and down next to me in the soft waves. “Dude! We’re finally here!” He nodded. “And now we just need to figure out how to make sure it doesn’t rush past us.” He looked at me, “Well, when you figure out how to bottle up time and sell it at an insane price, let me know.”

If only it were that easy.

To be continued…

The Reunion- Part 1

2010-07-16T14:47:00.001-04:00

Back in March 2003 I was a senior at Rutgers and had never attended a vacation outside of the tri-state area without my parents. With my college graduation sneaking up on me I felt it was my duty to organize a liberating adventure filled with partying and sunbathing. I rounded up 9 of my friends and booked our Jetblue flight and hotel arrangements in South Beach, Miami. The 7 day vacation that transpired would go down in history as the best vacation any of us had ever had.

The 2003 South Beach Crew

Until last week.

One of the South Beach attendees had been Pablo, who was set to marry his beloved girlfriend Amanda in Puerto Rico on July 10, 2010. Besides Pablo, I had also remained very good friends with three of my other dorm-mates: Dex, Bru and Adonis. When we learned we were all invited to the wedding our collective tank of brains began to buzz feverishly. Not only was this a wedding, but a reunion 7 years in the making! In a complete role reversal, Dex took the reins and started looking up flights and hotels. Maybe marriage has made him as organizationally compulsive as I am. I received a call at my office several months before the wedding with a very motivated Dex on the other end. He placed a metaphorical gun to my head and instructed me to purchase a specified Continental Airlines ticket. Ok, I’m exaggerating. Really, he just said, “I found us a flight. You in?” And I responded, “Ok.”

Once past the air transportation, we moved on to hotels. For various reasons 3 of us were attending the wedding solo. No stranger to sharing a room with these guys, I put my femininity aside, deepened my voice and asked Bru and Adonis if I could room with them. They said it was cool…as long as I stopped talking like a man. Done.

When it came to choosing a hotel, I was the guru of sorts since I’d lodged in Isla Verde, PR many times throughout my adolescence. An internet search landed me on the homepage of La Playa Hotel. It took me only a moment to realize the newly renovated hotel was once a hot spot my mom frequented in her heyday. Good karma. I jumped on the phone and negotiated the price for an ocean view room with the ever helpful and jubilant hotel manager, Linda. Over the following months I would come to call Linda repeatedly to reassure our reservations were still valid. Bless her soul for being patient with my paranoia.

With flights and hotel accommodations settled, all we had to do was wait. Gchat convos with Dex, IM with Pablo and phone calls with Bru always revolved around one thing: Can we go yet? Fortunately, life sped by as it often does and before we could all say “Yo quiero mofongo!” (I just made Bru’s mouth water) we were a week away from our flight. It’s ironic how sometimes vacations pop up at a time when you need them most. Bru and I were dealing with sicknesses in our families and collectively we were all at a boiling point with our everyday lives. We didn’t just need a tan, we needed a sanity readjustment.

To be continued…

The Great Debate

2010-05-27T10:15:00.000-04:00

As any of my immediate friends would tell you, I had an unhealthy dependence on the TV show "Lost". I'd build my week around it and wouldn't take calls during unless there was an impending death involved. On May 23rd the series concluded and sparked one of the largest internet debates I've seen in quite some time. I decided to write a Huff piece on it and as it stands there are over 100 comments. Regardless of its faults, the show was clearly a phenomenon.
Check it: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-j-rivera/ilosti-a-day-later_b_588122.html

The Vampire Diaries: First Season Reflection

2010-05-17T10:18:00.000-04:00

I wrote a quick piece for Huffington Post about The Vampire Diaries season finale last week. You can find it here...and yes I'm fully aware of the typo in the latter part of the article =o) (Because I know someone's going to mention it.) Enjoy!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-j-rivera/emvampire-diariesem-first_b_576291.html

A Evening with Nate

2010-04-29T14:23:00.000-04:00

Working where I work, I've come across my share of celebs. Some are well known, some think they are well known, some deserve to be most known. Nate Berkus falls in the latter category.

Rewind. 2006. My family and I just finished dinner at a quaint Italian restaurant on 8th avenue. As we're leaving the joint my cousin slaps my arm and says, "We just walked by Nate Berkus." Me: "Who?" Her, flabbergasted that I'm clueless: "He's always on Oprah, he does home design." I shake my head and smile; I hadn't watched Oprah since college, back when my schedule allowed for it. My cousin rolls her eyes. And that was my first run in with Nate.

Fast forward. 2010. Nate is getting his own talk show. Sizzle reels, decks and artwork pass by my desk. All have one thing in common; his face (an adorable one at that.) Soon enough what was once on a piece of glossy paper is now in front of me. We are quickly introduced as he is in town to meet our group and their clients at an event later in the evening. I'm assigned a specific task for the meet and greet: shadow Nate. First thoughts: easy breezy.

We arrive at Monkey Bar and I meet Ali the photographer. She's personable, full of stories and shares my sense of humor. Instant teammate. Nate arrives soon thereafter and we're all given the lowdown: it will be my responsibility to make sure Nate meets all the clients, spends enough but not too much time with them and has numerous photo ops. Light bulb! Publicity work. Something I was once involved in but forgot about when production took over my (side job) life. Nice way to be reintroduced.

At first things are moving slowly, clients are taking their time to arrive. Ali and walk around snapping random photos. Then it seems as if everyone picks the same moment to make their fashionable entrance. They also share another goal: immediately wanting to meet Nate. Game time! The next two hours involve me ushering Nate around, learning how to catch his eye or politely interrupt him in order to move him to another client, hearing my name called from each direction by my colleagues who need his attention, holding his drinks during photos or running off to replenish said drinks. With each introduction, he is charming and engaging. He listens and you get the sense you already know him. It was all a blur for me, quite a fun blur.

At one point, when I reach to hold his drink again he says to me, "I'm growing an attachment to you." I, and the group of clients around us, laugh. He continues, "Seriously, I'm going to wake up in the middle of the night, look around and say 'Where's Lauren?'" I smile at the warmth of his joke. This is Nate. Funny, sweet and the kind of person you instantly want to be friends with. What's most important, from my own experience, is that I can't smell a fake bone in his body (and I've got quite the nose for such a thing.) And it is because of this genuineness (and his talent of course) that I think his show will do very well. In a room of more than a 100 people, not one walked away feeling they couldn't relate to him. I think that says a lot.

By almost 9pm things were finally beginning to wind down. I was introduced to some of his good friends and family and then it was time for goodbyes. He thanked me for helping him through the evening. I thanked him for being quite the trooper. And silently and to myself, I thanked him for reminding me of something else I'm good at.

For more info on Nate, visit: NateBerkus.com

To check out Ali's awesome photography, check out her site: AliPaigeGoldstein.com

"The Back Up Plan" - My Review on Huff

2010-04-27T16:38:00.000-04:00

I have a relationship with Jennifer Lopez...she just doesn't know it. My family has been referring to me as their version of JLo for years. Okay, maybe we share the same anatomical body proportions, always seem to cut our hair into the same shapes and have similar voices (I'm not sure if that's good or bad.) However, the same family also calls my cousin Lucy Lu...did I mention we're Puerto Rican with no Asian ancestry? You get my drift.

My rambling point is that despite the way critics seem to hate on her repeatedly, Jennifer Lopez made her way into my life a long time ago and her newest wave may be one of her best yet.

Check out the review on Huffingtonpost.com here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-j-rivera/jennifer-lopezs-emthe-bac_b_550549.html

Ugly Betty and I Go WAY Back...

2010-04-15T16:01:00.000-04:00

I'm on a bit of a Huffington Post blogging frenzy this week. Last night as I watched the series finale of Ugly Betty, I felt like I was saying good bye to a good friend. Check out my review of the finale here:
www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-j-rivera/emugly-bettyem-saying-goo_b_538677.html

New Huffington Blog Post

2010-04-12T17:56:00.000-04:00

It's been a VERY long time since I posted on Huffingtonpost.com. I'm not the kind of writer to just blab for the hell of it and expect people to follow my every word. Instead, I write about subjects that I know will have special interest. This time around I wrote a review of the new iTunes app called MySneakers developed by my friend Louis W. Colon III. Check out the full blog here:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lauren-j-rivera/mysneakers-app-on-itunes_b_533917.html

And here are some screen shots of the app that I couldn't attach to Huff post:

As if I needed any more of a reason to fill my closet with sneakers! :-)

Me, a Role Model?

2010-03-08T15:25:00.000-05:00

While watching the ~~boring~~ Oscars last night, I kept fantasizing about my own acceptance speech. It's the one where I thank the Academy, my parents, my friends... and then tell everyone who doubted me to suck it. Classy. But honest.

While it may take me a bit to make that fantasy anything close to real, in the meantime, I've recently found myself dealing with fans. Thanks to my Sony commercial reaching 30K views on YouTube(talk about milking 15 minutes of fame!) I now have a new slew of them. Some are borderline stalkers, some are wannabees (read: they want to give me "entertainment advice" and yet the most they've done is perform in their high school talent show) and then there are the genuine kind, my faves! One of my most recent is this adorable kid named Blayne.

Blayne saw my commercial and then reached out to my personal YouTube page asking if I was the same person starring in the commercial. When I confirmed, he was psyched, told me I was his idol. I check this kid's YouTube page and see this video:

I'm his idol?? Pfft! This kid is 14 and making better videos than I did two years ago lol. If I can inspire a kid to be more awesome than they already are, I'm in! And while I'm doing that, I'll continue to be inspired by them.

Blog here! Blog there! Blog everywhere!

2010-03-05T18:02:00.000-05:00

While this will remain my blog for random thoughts, my thoughts revolving around the 3 weddings I am involved in over the next year will be blogged about here: www.EveryonesWeddingButMine.com . If you don't get the tone of the website from the title, here is the logline: The tales of an unmarried wedding hopper. Sure, it sounds like something only girls would find interesting but I plan on tying in my sense of humor as well as interviewing/chatting with various people who have different opinions of love and marriage. So, what I'm saying is - CHECK IT OUT! :-)

The Finish Line

2010-01-14T09:44:00.001-05:00

It's one thing to return from a long holiday break. It's another to return only to leave again two days later.

After a quick stint at my office last week, I found myself headed to Vegas early Wednesday morning. It had been three years since I last visited the city of sleepless nights and empty wallets. While on previous trips I had arrived for work, this time things were a bit different. This time I was a (small) celebrity. CES was about to be underway and my face and make.believe ad/film would be displayed for all to see. No pressure. Ok, maybe just a bit.

A driver greeted Jaime and I at baggage claim, a sign with our names in his hands. I threw on my sunglasses to better fit the part. Once our luggage was claimed, we followed Louie (our driver) outside. I expected a sedan. What I got was a stretch limo from 1990. I tried my best to suppress the giggles. Such a Vegas stereotype. What was there to do but give in?

Louie even stopped at CVS so we could grab some cold medicine for Jaime. There was something comical about exiting the store and seeing him flirt with a couple of curious ladies by the limo.

Just a short time later we arrived at Bally's. After a nap and some lunch (or was it dinner considering we'd initially woke up 12 hours prior) we got ready for the cocktail reception. I endured a moment of hating everything I brought to wear and then settled on a multi-colored dress before making our way to Caesars. It was a bit cold outside, but by cold I mean 40 degrees, not 5 like in New York.

We arrived at the Sony Style store in the Forum shops just in time to meet Sir Howard. He shook my hand, congratulated me and the other two winners of the Sony contest. Afterward, he jumped into a quick speech for the press and was gone in a flash. Jaime and I lingered, watching my film play on a section of TVs across the room. Erika Kato, the winner from San Diego, joined us. We spoke of our films, what they were based on, how they were made and found some laughs along the way. When we saw there was no reason for us to stick around we headed out, Erika and her partner in crime, Liz, beside us. A man walked along side Jaime and I looking incredibly suspicious. After a moment he asked us what kind of music we liked. I'm from NY, I knew where this was going (he wanted us to buy his CD.) I automatically said "country" because no matter what kind of music he was selling, I knew it wasn't country. He was quickly aware that I was on to his scheme and, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, said "Have a nice night." Erika and Liz marveled at my NYC smarts (or at least I'll pretend they did.)

Jaime and I hit some slots on our way out of Caesar's, also making a pit stop at the main fountain and statue. I'm not crazy about picture taking tourists...until I am one. Also made a stop at Serendipty for a quick meal and a huge sundae. The name of the restaurant says it all: heavenly. Afterward we were both yawning incessenantly. So, like the old people we are, we went to our hotel and called it a night.

Thursday morning we were more than excited to find out there was free breakfast courteosy of Sony. With full stomachs we headed to the convention center. Considering we entered through the Sony side of the hall I shouldn't have been surprised. But, who is not surprised by seeing themselves play across huge monitors on a 30 foot tower? I smacked Jaime. "It's me!" and pointed like a five year old. We walked into the Sony area and crossed into the open theater that seats 100+ people in very cool white loune chairs that sparkled in the black light. Outside the theater were several kiosks housing 3D TVs, console gaming, cameras, and the Dash (a portable web console.) Kids in a candy store. 3D "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" in my home? Yes, please!

At 3pm we made our way back to the theater to watch Kris Allen sing acoustic with a bit of guitar. I have to say, I'm not a big fan of his original songs, but when the kid does covers (like Chasing Pavements and Falling Slowly) he's amazing.

The evening brought us to Beso, Eva Langoria Parker's new addition to her restaurant chain. It's situated within the new City Center, which is built of twisted glass buildings and colored fountains. We splurged on some steak and $10 flat water (which I orderd because I forgot "flat" didn't translate to "free tap".) The short rib juicily (is that a word? no? it should be!) fell apart the minute I touched it with my fork. Ten times yum. Jaime even ate the vegetables which nearly ended my life with a surge of shock.

Next was the David Copperfield show at MGM. I was in love with David at one time in my life. He was debounaire, witty and an escape artist! This was nearly 20 years ago. He's now 20 years older, has a slight gut, bit of a receding hair line, but STILL an escape artist. One of the very best (as if I have a running list of amazing escape artists.) There were missing ducks, scorpions and best, of all, PEOPLE (of course.) With every trick I tried my best to figure out what he was actuallly doing but it's not any easier to figure out in person than it is on TV.

We decided to walk back to our hotel instead of taking a cab. As we moved along the side walk, a man who was walking with a group of people waved at me, I had no idea who he was an ignored him. I was in the middle of telling Jaime "That guy just waved at me" when the guy made a u-turn, dragging his friend along, pointed to me and said "That's the make.believe winner." I still had no idea who this guy was so I smiled awkwardly and tugged on Jaime's arm. When the two men turned back to their group I recognized some of the women with them as employees of SCA. Doh! I totally dissed someone I worked with in some capacity. Nice way to end my evening.

Friday I awoke just a bit nervous. It was the morning of the videography presentations at CES. Although the films had been playing since CES opened, this would be the official introduction of the three winners to the crowd of, I don't know 150-200 people. At least I didn't have to speak, I was just being spoken of.

We met Erika and Liz on the shuttle bus and made nervous chatter until we debused (word? no? oh well.) As the four of us entered the booth we were immediately met with the welcome screen which had stills from our films announcing the presentation would start at 1030am. Erika and I were taken to the green room, grabbed some bottles of water and instructed to return in time for the presentation (it was only 9:30am.) To kill some moments, we played the new Gran Tourismo and I fell in love with a cyber pet.

At 10:15 we returned to the theater and I was surprised to see it was fully filled. The nerves returned. I was suddenly very self-conscious about wearing a dress while seated on a raised stage. Chris Lenz, head of Arcade Creative Group, called out our names. I was seated between Erika and Dave Chaimson, the other winner. As I tried my best to not twitch and fidget, Chris introduced Erika's video. I love her childhood story and Farrah Fawcett hair (you go girl!) When we came back from black, I clapped loudly and then realized it was time for my video when Chris started to read my intro. I stared at him to distract myself, then the lights dimmed and my film began.

I'd seen the film at least 15 times by now, but seeing it on a big movie screen gave me (as stereotypical as this will sound) chills. Unlike the other two videos, I was on screen the majority of the time, so the actress in me was psyched! I had a flashback to the day it was filmed and smiled to myself. Dan Beers and his crew had done an outstanding job of turning a 20 hour shoot into these 2 minutes of film. I was proud, to say the least. The infamous slogan appeared and then the lights returned. Claps errupted and I heard some hooting and hollering that wasn't just from Jaime. I giggled.

Dave's video was up next.(When all videos are up on Crackle.com I'll post those as well.) I was so impressed by the media program Dave started for school kids in Wisconsin, that I'm inspired to volunteer at something similar in NYC. Teaching kids how to make (basic) films? I could do that! And I'd love it. Note to self: Google these programs in NYC.

After Dave's video we were done and had a break before the 3D Jimi Hendrix experience. As I departed the stage I was congratulated by several people who loved my film and asked me how it was made and such. So. Incredibly. Cool.

The rest of the day we checked out most of the Central hall and part of the North. CES is cool, but I don't have the feet for it. I was in pain by the Lego building station and yelping to go home and change by the SUPER bright Samsung booth. We returned to the hotel, and napped. But the night wasn't over. Erika had scored us cheap tickets to Phantom of the Opera. I live in NYC, home of Broadway, and I've never seen the longest running show in the history of playbills. But, when in Vegas...

As the four of us sat in the Venetian food court, we began to notice something funny. There were people carrying clear plastic bags with "adult films" in them. Oh! That's right! Not only was it CES but also AVN (aka the porn convention.) We looked around at men in business suits talking tech while seated next to men in suede jackets talking about... I can't even repeat, my blog is family friendly. This was funny...and creepy, so we finished up the grub and headed over to the theater.

Sitting in fantastic orchestra seats, we settled in for a night of wonder... and a lot of "what is happening?" The problem with some musicals is that EVERYTHING is sung. If the lead actress had to say she was going to the bathroom, she would do it in her best soprano. Beautiful but totally confusing. However, half way through the show I caught the gist of what was unraveling and became entertained. In the end, not only was it something I could cross off my bucketlist, but also something I did with new friends. We hugged Liz and Erika goodbye in case we didn't see them again before leaving Sunday. I drugged myself to sleep with Nyquil because apparently I wasn't made of steel and Jaime's cold had found me.

Saturday consisted of a lot of walking, exploring and my third shopping trip. I had never realized 50% of Vegas is a casino and the other 50, a mall. We also made it to the Mirage hotel where we paid our way into the Secret Garden. I have a thing for dolphins. I'll gladly pay $15 to see them. And a treat they were! Catching a glimpse of some beautiful tigers, lions and [bears! no] leopards didn't hurt either.

A brief nap back at the hotel and then we were off again to PF Changs. Yes, yes we have them in the tristate area but I don't have the will to resist. Tummies full, yet again, we headed back to our hotel. Cutting through Paris, I realized we were walking next to Stevie Wonder. I saw him, he didn't see me... padum cha! I told that horrible joke at least 5 times already.

The following morning it was time to depart. I felt exhausted. No one should spend more than two nights in Vegas. Why I opted for four was beyond me...Until we ran into Erika and Liz one more time on our way out. We made promises of NY and SD visits and suddenly the whole experience came together for me.

Winning this contest was so much more than the presentation, than the gifts... My unforgettable filming day. The recognition from my peers and family. Having such a powerful man read my story aloud to thousands. Running around one of the craziest cities in the world. Meeting amazing people and making new friends. It was all of that...and still more.

I'm a make.believer.

(full album)

Best of 2009 - Movie Edition

2009-12-23T09:46:00.000-05:00

Best movie to make me question my mortality: The Road
Best movie to make me question John Cusak's mortality: 2012

Best movie adapted from a book about physical monsters: Where the Wild Things Are
Best movie adapted from a book about emotional monsters: He's Just Not That Into You

Best movie starring Zoe Saldana as a human: Star Trek

Best movie starring Zoe Saldana as an alien: Avatar

Best movie I didn't know I would like: District 9

Best movie I thought I would like and hated: I Love You, Beth Cooper (book was hilarious!)

Best movie to remind me why I love George Clooney: Fantastic Mr. Fox

Best movie to remind me why I love George Clooney a couple of months later: Up in the Air

Best movie to remind me why it's awesome to have best friends: I Love You, Man!

Best movie to remind me to check on camera for evidence of what my best friends do while I'm not around: The Hangover

Best heartbreaking romantic comedy: 500 Days of Summer

Best heartbreaking romantic comedy that wasn't trying to be a heartbreaking romantic comedy but the acting was so bad that it was heartbreakingly comedic: Twilight- New Moon

Best 80s TV icon cameo in a movie: Lou Ferrigno (I Love You, Man!)

Best 80s movie icon cameo in a movie: Bill Murray (Zombieland)

Best movie we wish we could have seen in 2009: Actual, non-rehearsal concert footage of This is It

Best movie we won't have to see in 2009: Tiger in the Sack- A Tiger Woods Story

Extras.Dolly.Finale Pt 3

2009-12-17T11:54:00.000-05:00

6:15pm- Dolly track is being constructed. My extras, consisting of some Work Jerks and some actual coworkers, lounge in the conference room. They’ve shown up for me and I’m very appreciative.
6:45pm- To hell with the dolly track!
7:15pm- I play host to the extras while their scene is being set up. Who’s up for a game of numbers?
7:25pm- They are over the numbers game.
7:45pm- Tom takes over the extras. Begins placing them around the office.
8:05pm- Extras scene begins. A lot of “Action so-and-so!” “Action so-and-so!” Being shouted. They walk. It’s a cut and wrap. They are awesome.
9:00pm- Extras part. I hug my friends and wave good bye. My night is nowhere near over.
9:30pm- Food break! My brain is telling me there’s something up with the food, my stomach is saying “to hell with it! Eat!” So I eat (and have a stomach bug the next day, but that’s another story.)
10:00pm- My stomach is starting to hurt but I try my best not to show it. A real actress hides pain, and I’m trying to be one so…
10:30pm- Camera is aimed at my computer. I’m trying to type but I can’t get a line across the screen without having to backtrack. Someone from the crew gives it a try…and fails as well. Jesse steps up; self-proclaimed typing hero. And fails. We laugh. Then he tries very slowly and makes it. We cheer.
11:45pm- This is still fun but my bed is winning the war of “places I’d love to be right now.”
12:30am- I’ve started napping between scenes. I feel a soft snap of light. Ah! Someone took a picture of me.
1:10am- Wonder if dying would be easier than staying awake. (I’ve become melodramatic, signs of a true actress!)
1:15am- Last scene begins. Although I’m clearly exhausted between scenes, I wake up for takes and I’m praised for my determination. I’m coaxed with words like “We’re almost done!”
1:25am- And then we are done.
1:45am- We all gather our belongings and head out of the building.
1:47am- I hug everyone. They are no longer strangers. They are my battle buddies. Majority have never been on such a long shoot before. Although I cannot wait to see my bed, I am sad to part with them.
2:25am- I am in a car headed home. It’s snowing. Badly. Of all nights. I just want to be home!
2:45am- I’m in bed. Almost 24 hours from the last time I felt my pillow against my head. This may have been the longest day of my life but it was also one of the most amazing. It has renewed the feeling that always lies in the pit of my stomach but that I often ignore. I shouldn’t be scared of this, because as hard as it is for me to admit, it’s what I’m meant to do.

Sidebar- the final cut of the video will be released in early January. I will be posting it then.

Madison Ave.Lights.Cameras -Part 2

2009-12-16T11:01:00.000-05:00

December 08. We pick up right after 12:30pm when my director (Dan Beers) tells me I'm supposed to wear the doggycam in front of my work building on Madison Avenue, amidst lunch time traffic...

12:45pm- Standing in front of building with crew. People are already starting to look. You ready Lauren? I nod and lift my arms. Wiggle into the harness and smile expectantly. There's no method to my acting. I just "do."
12:55pm- We've moved across the street. Time to walk. Down a city block and around a corner. Some people stop and look, but the best part? The people that don't.
1:15pm- We stop on a corner and Dan (DP, not director) has an idea. He wants a 360 shot. I'm down for anything at this point. He clears the way and I spin a circle 5 feet wide thanks to the suspended cam. Fun.
1:25pm- Harness comes off for the last time. Phew! Done with the weird stares.
1:26pm- Find out what the next scene is. No, not done after all.
1:30pm- Adam, an older man costumed as a homeless person, makes his fake setup on the sidewalk. He's totally into his character. Asking for money from strangers. Dan sets up me. "Don't react to Adam no matter what he does," he tells me. Sure, no problem.
1:31pm- Action! I start to walk past Adam. As soon as I pass he jumps up and starts screaming maniacally. I keep walking as if I've heard nothing. Dan's pleased. People in the street? Not so much. I think a child is crying somewhere.
1:45pm- I receive a text from my coworker who is about 20 stories above me. "We can hear him screaming up here." I'm laughing but wondering at what point are we getting arrested for this?
2:15pm- We don't get arrested. We're on to the next site.
2:45pm- The two Dans and I make a quick run into Union Square station. Quick up and downs on the stairs. Starting to think this is a candid boot camp.
2:55pm- At the Moxie office. Mike and Danny are setting up the elevator for the next scene. I take a break on the couches with Susie, Kris and Christian. We all look pretty tired already. Oh right, we've been doing this for nearly 8 hours.
3:10pm- Elevator is ready, as is my costar in this scene. A guy named Larry. Won't give away too much by telling you how Larry was costumed. Just know that even the non-costumed version of Larry was...creepy.
3:15pm- Light effects in the elevator. Larry is staring at me. Light effects stop. Larry is still staring at me...and asking me if I want to be in his off (way off) Broadway show (aka the subway theater.) I smile awkwardly then look pleadingly at Dan. Help!
4:00pm-Crew heads back to midtown. Two Dans, Christian, Jesse and I hit the 6 train.
4:30pm-NYC rule: no cameras on the subway. Rule? What rule? Dan takes out the cam.
4:45pm-Jesse's wearing his mask again. Most people ignore him. Except a child. Who's completely terrified.
5:15pm-By now we've swapped seats at least 5 times and we've hit 86th street.
5:35pm-Train reaches 59th street. Motion. Slow motion. Sleep motion. *Snap* oh we're here!
5:45pm-Hoof it to my office. Jokes are had. I don't know how we have energy to laugh.
5:50pm-Christian asks Dan how many shots we still have to shoot. "Something like 30." Well then, maybe I should have packed my sleeping bag.

To be continued...

Dan.Crew.Me - Part I

2009-12-14T23:48:00.007-05:00

The main portion of the contest I won and spoke of in recent posts was a full day dedicated to the film shoot revolving around my essay. The chosen production company was Moxie Pictures and the director, Dan Beers. Dan, who usually directs and writes comedy created this hilarious short starring Bill Murray back in 2007.

Bill Murray in FCU: Fact Checkers Unit from Bill Murray

I didn't need to see the short ahead of time to know that Dan was super talented and shared my sense of humor. The irony, however, was that the short he envisioned for me was not a comedy. And therein lies the blank canvas that blanketed the beginning of this project. Something new for Dan. Something new for me.

It took place on December 8th. And this is how it went down...

6:00am- Alarm. The idea of getting up this early was appealing, until I actually had to do it.
6:45am- Lay on couch. Thinking I can nap just a few- buzzzzzzz! What?! It's 7 already?
7:00am- Crew arrives. Eight people make their way through my door. Steve (producer) snaps us into attention. "Make-up, asap!" He's authoritative and sounds familiar. Oh yeah, like me! Duh. Susie Sobol gets to work on my face. It may be early, but this is becoming fun again.
7:20am- Hair. Susie's finishing up my locks while Dan snaps pics for me. He's an earthy director. Has no problem taking my picture, and then promptly making fun of me.
7:25am- Kris (production designer/wardrobe) helps me sort through my wardrobe. It's cold out but a dress would look cute I say. So much for warmth.
7:30am- Three Dans and a Mike meet me in the hallway. Steve reminds us to keep library voices. Dan directs me to walk. Easy enough.
7:40am- I’m introduced to the “doggycam” also known as a “me” cam. It’s a large contraption. I’m scared. I’m told Will Smith wore this very piece. Well in that case, strap me in! I bend and twist. Oh, I think to myself as the camera points right at my face, this is…odd.
7:45am- Lauren, smile. Oh wait, never mind. Keep with the sour puss, it's more believable for morning.
8:00am- Christian snaps pics of me in the awkward contraption. Facebook! Susie I’m sweating, help! She rushes over with make-up brushes. Dan fans me. Someone feed me grapes, now! Kidding.
8:15am- All nine of us slip downstairs, hoping not to draw attention. Bump into my super in the lobby. Doh! It’s a student film… with a director that was hired. And a fully paid crew. And. Ok, yeah, it’s not a student film.
8:30am- Pile into the rented van. Susie meets me in front seat and starts touching me up while Tom asks me how to get to Lincoln. I direct as lipstick is applied.
8:35am- Dan makes my stomach hurt. Because he keeps making me laugh, not because he sucker punched me.
9:00am- Arrive in the Bronx. 241st train station. Renegade filming. Well, this should be fun!
9:15am- Down the block, Dan yells "action!" I notice. And so does everyone else on the block.
9:17am- Between takes people stop to ask me who I am and what movie I’m filming. I just smile…and run away.
9:20am- Christian buys me water and tells me to find him if I want anything to eat or drink. It’s on production’s tab. Awesome, I’ll take lobster. Oh wait. I don’t eat fish.
9:25am- There are a lot of cops around because a woman was shot in the area the morning before. Lovely.
9:45am- Up on the platform. Jesse is to my right, wearing a mask. Dan and Dan are across the platform shouting directions between trains passing. Lauren, look left. Jesse stay there behind her. Good now---skrreeeeeccchhhhhhhhhhhhh.
10:15am- Walking to the van a passerby shouts “Ducksauce!” at me. Is that a movie? A come on line? An indigenous language from Siberia? I have no idea what he meant but we’re all laughing.
10:30am- Heading to the city. Laughing.
11:15am- Stuck in cross-town traffic. Not laughing.
11:30am- Steve jumps out of the van and makes a run for it. Tries to intercept the food delivery that is happening two blocks ahead of us, which we’re about to be late for.
11:31am- Steve makes it. Food doesn’t.
12:00pm- We’re spread out in the atrium. Food has arrived and I’m talking to Jesse and Susie about the IRS and their shenanigans.
12:30pm- Dan tells me it’s time to jump into the doggycam again. I stop eating. Here? On Madison Avenue? During lunch??? Yes.
Gulp.

To be continued…

California Dreamin' - Finale

2009-12-04T10:13:00.002-05:00

Sunday (11/8)

Our last full day on the California coast. Decide to take another road trip. This time we head north to Santa Barbara. 405 to the 101 and within the next hour we are driving along the coast. The mountains take up most of our Eastern view. They rise and fall like a kiddie coaster. We exit and head towards State Street. The buildings have a Spanish feel to them. Even the movie theater blends in; unlike East coast movie theaters that stand alone like stadiums. We eat, and walk, sometimes through clouds of weed smoke. Did you know nearly anyone can legally obtain pot in California as long as your doctor gives you a medical needs card? I know, to us East Coasters it sounds as real as Monopoly money, but in California it’s legit. Blew my mind. We visit the Mission; a large Franciscan church founded in 1786. Creepy and amazing to walk through such an old piece of architecture. We rush because it’s nearly 230pm and we have one last place to visit: The Circle Bar B Ranch.

Like every other little girl in all of America, I grew up loving horses. I’m not sure why, I mean, I grew up in Brooklyn where you only see horses with police on their backs during parades. Must have been something that was whispered into my ear when I was a newborn. Anyway. I’ve rode horses several times in my life, was even thrown off one once. But what honestly brought me to the ranch was the fact that it was listed as one of the top ten things to do while in the Santa Barbara area. Simple as that. Jaime agreed because he loves me. And because he doesn’t pay attention to my itineraries. In this scenario, the latter was clearly the case. As we pulled up he asked me, “So this is a spa thing right?” Obviously, when we moseyed on up to the group of cowboys and a line of stables he did a double take. I explained to one of the horse handlers that I’m a somewhat experienced rider. Jaime offered up that he had ridden a horse once. Slowly. No surprise then that my horse was a young stallion named Rocket and Jaime’s was a gargantuan mare named Dolly. Our leader, and full blown cowboy, was named Clay and, by the lucky of the horses, we were going on a solo ride (in other words they were nice enough to separate us from the family with three whiny kids.) For the next hour we were led through the mountains with Clay telling stories about where he was from (Iowa?) and asking me about Brooklyn because his brother manages a bar there (of course!) And Jaime? Well, think about the combination here: slow horse and a guy who wouldn’t disturb a fly even if it were buzzing around his head shamelessly. Clay had shown us how to kick the horses in a way that conveyed the need for speed. Jaime would give small kicks and then, when our leader would turn away, he’d lean forward (the sweet man he is) and try to convince the horse to move faster by pleading to her. Needless to say, when my horse decided to leap over a small creek (just because) Jaime missed it because he was 100 feet behind. Regardless, we all caught up at the crest of a mountain where Clay parked our horses and told us to chill out. Breathtaking isn’t strong enough of a word to portray just what it was we saw. Green mountains rose and fell, the sun was beginning to blaze pink, and the ocean was just beyond the farthest crest. I didn’t want to leave. But we were warned the cold would come as the sun set further. Picture opp! And then we were off, back down the mountain. I recognized the final trail as we approached it and frowned knowing the end of the ride was around the corner. *Sigh?* A nature girl? Me? Who woulda thunk it? (Especially after that camping debacle. Shiver.) We were helped off our horses and became immediately aware of how much sitting in that position for an hour and a half was going to hurt in just a few hours. Again, totally worth it.

One last stop to make on this trip. We wanted to get together with Jaime’s friend Mitch, who now resides in San Diego. No, no, no. We didn’t drive down to San Diego. I’m not that crazy. We just drove to Anaheim. I was told this was about 30 minutes South of Santa Monica. What’s 30 minutes more? I said. Then I saw the red lights. The break lights. The traffic lights. And then I realized it was 30 minutes without traffic. And, considering there is rarely NOT traffic around LA, this time assumption was completely false. So we sat in traffic for over an hour instead. I thought I might die. Until we finally reached a random mini-mall in Anaheim where we met Mitch for BBQ. Food. Stress reliever. What traffic? We munched on ribs as Mitch told us about his gig as a high school teacher. An hour later we were laughed out with our bellies full. We promised to visit San Diego on our next West coast trip. I guess that’s when we first realized we’d want to return sooner than later. This trip had not rid us of the bug to discover what else this state had to offer. Before we could even give that more thought, we had to head out. Lucky for us, our return trip happened outside of rush hour so it really did only take us about 30 minutes to reach our hotel. Ah, sleep. I dreamt of horses and Dolly Parton. Weird.

Monday (11/9)

Up before the alarm clock. Gather. Pack. Go. Stop at IHop. Eat my usual breakfast. The one thing you can count on to be the same no matter where you go: chain restaurants. Return rental car. Jump the shuttle bus. There’s a funny feeling in my stomach. Ah, it’s sadness. We check in. We’re early. Why do I always book late flights? Sit around in the terminal, get some work done. Look over the pictures we’ve taken. California’s beautiful. It’s not home. May never feel that way, but beautiful nonetheless. Board the plane. Purple lights. Pussycat Dolls music surrounds us. Comedic flight attendants. Déjà vu. Not really. Just amazed at how fast six days went. Take off. California disappears below us. Four and a half hours later. City lights. A different kind of beauty. There’s a funny feeling in my stomach. Ah, it’s the feeling of familiarity. The beaches may not be nearly as pretty, the sunsets not as magnificent but we have real NY pizza, real NY bagels, real NY skyscrapers, real NY attitudes, real NY stride. I missed this. I’m home.

California Dreamin' Part 4

2009-12-03T09:45:00.003-05:00

Saturday (11/7)

(Short and sweet)

Why stay in LA when you have a rental car? Grab an address off the web, plug into my GPS and to Laguna we head. “No traffic!” I shout/whisper to Jaime because if I were to say it any louder, cars may suddenly creep out of thin air. We make it to Laguna beach in under an hour.

It’s a solid 70 degrees outside but we head to the beach anyway. I lay in jeans and a bikini top, determined to get some visible touch of sun. Did I mention it was hardly 70 degrees out? Soon I have my tank top back on and we give up on the tanning.

Walk over to the rocks and cliffs. Kick around in the water and marvel at some crabs stuck to the stone. Interesting to look at…as long as I am several feet away. I pretend to pose at the edge of the surf and don’t see the higher water coming my way. Splash! My jeans are soaked. Jaime smiles. He caught it on film. We sit in the setting sun as my jeans dry.

A walk around the surrounding streets brings us to a line of stores. I shop. Surprised? I exit Heavenly Couture with $100 worth of cute outfits. We dine on the beach wrapped in sweatshirts and jackets. There is something beyond amazing about the West coast sun. It can’t possibly be the same of that in NY. The ride home isn’t as lucky. We sit in traffic for more than an hour.

But it was worth it.

California Dreamin' Part 3

2009-12-02T20:02:00.005-05:00

Friday (11/6)

Jaime accompanies me to the lot. Takes it in. Breathes it out. I leave him at Coffee Bean while I participate in a quick meeting. Afterward I make rounds. Goodbyes are said. Some with old friends, others with new. I'm sad. Two days in this new world and I'm sad. Melodramatic. Meet Jaime back at CB. Our lot tour guide meets us there. He's spiffy and quick with words. Reminds me of less attractive version of lead guy on Glee. Oh, and he's an actor. I have yet to meet a waiter/tour guide/gas attendant in LA who is not an aspiring actor. Learn about the golden years of film. He's such a good storyteller that I imagine Humphrey Bogart will exit a sound stage at any moment. Enter sound stage 27 where Wizard of Oz was filmed. Sound stage 15 is 40 feet high. I think it could take hours to climb a ladder and touch the top. Quick stop at the backdrop painting facility. So you're telling me that's not really NY landscape outside Peter Parker’s NYC apartment window? The set of upcoming "Priest" has an open door, we creep inside. Same with Green Hornet office. Real movie sets give me chills. Far cry for Side Job sets. One day Lauren, one day. No celeb sightings but enough history talk to keep us buzzed.

Time to drive. Up and through Hollywood we go. Land at Highland and Hollywood. Park. Walk. One block. One block? Yes, that's all "Hollywood" is. Kodak, Gruman, Walk of Fame, all centers around one city block. "Actors" (I use that term more loosely every day) swarm the block dressed as Superman, Michael Jackson or a beat up, homemade version on SpongeBob (yellow tights, yellow foam head with eye cut outs and brown short shorts, so horrible I can hardly look away.) Then I realize I've lost my boyfriend. Ah! There he is, being manhandled by a Cat Woman wannabe. $5 later. Quick snaps of various stars on the sidewalk. Faves: Big Bird and Tony Danza. Up and through Kodak theater mall. Hollywood sign in the distance. Snap! Enough of this, let’s drive!

Cruise West on Sunset Blvd. Make a right and now we’re in Beverly Hills. Is the altitude making things fuzzy or do these incredible homes really exist? The kind of homes you only see on film. Well, this is LA. We can only take so much, our mouths are dry from hanging open for so long. Back down to Sunset and across to the coast. Engaging scenery and then we wiggle our way through the mountains. Endless water before us. Stop at Santa Monica pier. Like a Jersey shore boardwalk but…prettier. Parrot on my shoulder. Dance breakers doing flips. Music all around. Sunset.

Quick changearoo at the hotel and back out again. Return to Santa Monica. Dinner time with Fayanne at Border Grill. Where better to have Mexican than California? A solid round of margaritas. Tales of jobs past. Laughs and tummies filled. Robert Hoffman passes by our table. Don’t know who he is? I wouldn’t know either had I not seen Step Up 2 and were he not dressed like a break dancer. Time flies. Food has been delish. Part ways with my West coast friend and head to meet another. Quick drinks with Chuck and his lady @ a lounge on Ocean Avenue. Awkward bodies dance behind me. It’s 11pm. The party pooper within me is calling. Time to call it a night. So much for showin’ ‘em how NY gets down. Unless it’s down to a pillow.

California Dreamin' Part 2

2009-12-01T10:15:00.004-05:00

Thursday (11/5)

Bright and early. Have to head to the lot. Not the parking kind, the movie kind. Drive past security gate and then through a production. Completely in fear that I’ve just ruined some major blockbuster on my first day. I didn’t. Make my way into the building housing my colleagues. Like the bizarro world of my office; coworkers like that on the East coast but yet not like the East coasters. Instead of drab walls there are glass walls. Instead of broken toasters there are master chef kitchens. I like this…and yet I miss the smell and feel of NY.

Hang with Laura until I link up with one of my two bosses who parades me around like a proud dad. I blush. 15 times. I’m recognized (because my photo is on the company homepage.) Completely unnatural experience. Mini-stardom. Doubt this could ever feel normal. Walk around placing faces with phone voices. Have an ordinary chat with the co-head of the studio. Discuss things like Yonkers and why they still race horses. What did you expect? A movie pitch? :-) Meet with casting group. Head shots everywhere. Big smiles and stern looks jump at me from glossy paper. So that’s what my head shot looks like when I’m not the one looking at it. Talk about the likes of new talent. Learning session. Walk out feeling more like a producer, less like an actor. Totally ok with that.

Been around for a few hours but walking around like I stomp there daily. Out the door with Couper and Steve S to grab some lunch. There may be traffic in LA, but driving out for lunch is way more doable than…well it’s NOT doable in NY. Settle at CPK. Steve asks me all about The Work Jerks. I’m flattered and honored, because he’s a funny dude. I feel like a role model, and yet I’m not. I give all the credit to the fact that I’m surrounded by very talented people who don’t ask me to pay them (yet.) We eat and chat, frequently interrupted by my ADD BFF. I laugh. Often. This LA thing is fun.

I make it a point to stop in on my fellow assistants who I book appointments with regularly. I’m called a celebrity. I am still but an earthling, not fully in the clouds. These are my trench buddies. Hellos and hugs we share. I laugh that my 15 minutes won’t last forever. I’m then pulled away with the words “So and so wants to meet you, come on!” Damn my feet hurt! Make one last meeting with Ines, who I have never met but thanks to the homepage spotlight, have made fast friends with. I’m asked to describe NY to someone who has never been there (or maybe was only there once?) I’m stumped. Suddenly know nothing of my hometown. Am I losing myself already?

Swing back to hotel to pick up Jaime who has made Venice beach his home for the day and has a tinge of tan on the tip of his nose. My pale face stains with jealousy. Redressed, we head to Santa Monica for dinner at BOA. Immediate release of my car keys to valet. No one parks their own car in LA. Join one of my three friends who we are meeting at a table in the back. Lights low. Candles lit. And all I can think about is steak. And all I can notice is the large man sitting next to us with a hat and coat on, yet he doesn’t seem like he’s leaving. Quick glance again. Ah! He’s Brad Garrett. I inconspicuously reach for my cell phone and text the friends surrounding my table. Just as inconspicuous, they find their way of responding to my message. Then we play the game of pretending he’s not there. Food arrives! Brad who?

Filet mignon falls to pieces on my tongue. Mashed potatoes rush in after them. Brad leaves. New couple arrives. Older man. Younger woman. I think they manufacture couples like these in bulk here in LA. Minding our own business. Small commotion comes from cradle-robber table. We’re human, we look left. New woman is standing beside seated man. She says: “Funny seeing you here. Who is your friend?” Look of worry comes over man’s face. Look of “we love drama!” falls on our faces. Talk gets softer then standing woman asks if the man will step away with her for a moment. Quickly, we return to the very interesting non-existent convo we were having. Except for Couper, he makes eye contact with the girl left behind. Girl says to him: “I think that was his girlfriend.” She’s brought him in, and by default, we are now all involved. Girl continues: “This is our first date.” One of us says “Then maybe it should be your last.” Girl contemplates but man returns. Straining to hear them because my brain has been affected by wine consumption. Darn! A cookie platter is placed in front of me. Ah, sweet sugary goodness! Wait, what was I talking about?

After many laughs and reenactments by Jaime and Couper the night winded down and once again I was falling asleep standing up. Said our goodbyes and headed to valet. A Saab is parked in front of me. I recognize it as my friend’s. Were this NY, I would drive away with it as a joke. Instead, I swap tickets, grab the right car, and head to the hotel once more. Sleep finds me quickly.

California Dreamin' Part 1

2009-11-30T11:30:00.006-05:00

The trip to, in and from California left me with a vast amount of memories which would be entirely overwhelming if I wrote it all at once. So, I’m going to write it in 5 pieces, reflecting back on each day I spent in Cali. Here it goes...

Wednesday (11/4)

640am and dragging our carry-ons onto a plane. Virgin America. Purple lights and pop music greet us. Black “leather” seats. Comedic flight attendants. Order snacks from my TV screen. Watch the Disney Channel (not afraid to admit that.) Turn on some Wifi. Rockstar. I try to sleep. Can’t. Get to writing, Jaime snores. Look out the window. Highways then greenery, then crops in Ikea rug patterns, then blue mountains with cotton colored caps, then terracotta canyons and then…Jaime snores. We begin landing.

Oh car rental, car rental where are you? Ah, it’s off-site. Well then! Small talk and smiles gets me a free upgrade. A red Chevy Impala. Gangster. Side view mirror is smashed. Darn. Exchange. Now the car is “mocha.” About to get in and drive off, killer bee on the dashboard. Yikes! Rental attendant performs a murderous rampage. Attendant= 1, Bee=0.

Shades on. Driving through the wide-lane streets and one story buildings. This reminds me of Orlando. Pull into In-N-Out Burger. Oh wait, no it doesn’t.

Park @ hotel in Marina Del Rey, walk to Venice beach. Weather is lukewarm, sky is the kind of blue you want to wrap yourself in like a warm blanket, waves are gnarly (did I say that right?) Walk the Venice “canal.” Looking into people’s homes feels weird but they are beautiful. They are meant to be observed.

Clock says it’s only 4pm but I’ve already been up for more than 12 hours. Naps are amazing.

Get ready to meet my friend Steve R at the Red Lion Tavern on Glendale Avenue. On the phone with my bestie from westie, Couper, who warns me not to stray too far from the freeway, there are some “interesting neighborhoods” on the way there. Trooping across LA I only hope to not get a flat and end up in the middle of a gang war. Realize LAers are probably told the same thing about NY. Get to Red Lion in one piece. Beer garden with indoor/outdoor patio. Steve’s at a picnic table and our waitress is actually German. Beer name I can't pronounce. Yummy. Potato cakes and sausage. Double yummy. We talk life, love and beer. 9pm. I’m sleepy again. A huge bouncer takes our pic on the way out. Snap memory.

Hotel. Bed. Snooze.

My 15 Minutes (Part 2 of 3)

2009-11-16T11:25:00.002-05:00

There's something amazing in having a vision and being able to realize it for someone else. What's more amazing? Sitting alongside the person(s) who are going to listen to your story and find a way to tell it for you.

Towards the end of the winners announcement, I was approached by two of the producers I'd be working with on creating my videography. What surprised me was not only how down to earth they were but how genuinely excited they appeared to be about the project. Besides the obvious reasons I should feel lucky, I was further enamored with the project after meeting them.

My first official sit-down with the producers came the very next day. We discussed my background and the project in general. We spoke of the other jobs they've worked on and I tried my hardest to keep my excitement just below the surface. A mini-movie about me. Surreal. (I’m going to use that word a lot, please forgive me now.) I’d love to give the pinpointed details about our conversation, but I’m not at liberty to say. Just know that the final videos will be online at some point for all to see.

When I returned to my office I was still wearing the same smile I’d been wearing for the last day and a half. It was just hard to get rid of. After closing up, I headed home to pack. It just so happened that weeks before the contest even began, I had scheduled a trip to Los Angeles. What originally was intended to be a quick stop into the office turned into several meetings, a lunch and a dinner. My entire packing situation had to be re-evaluated. What does one wear when meeting the head of an TV & movie studio? And, just a few days later, riding a horse? Then of course there’s the multitude of situations that fall in between. Needless to say, I threw almost every sensible outfit I own into my suitcase. Set my alarm for 430am (who chooses a 7am flight to LA, really?) and hit the sack.

Half a dream later, I was up and, soon enough, in a car on my way to the airport and the interesting trip that lie ahead.

(Part 3- The California trip. Coming soon.)

My 15 Minutes (Part 1 of 3)

2009-11-13T15:44:00.004-05:00

I'm not the kind of person that wins things. I’m the person that plays $50 on a lotto card and watches the person standing next to me who spent $1 win a million easy. That’s me. So winning the “make.believe” contest was a huge surprise. And since the majority of you don’t work with me, I figured it would be helpful to explain what exactly I was so excited about a couple of weeks ago.

Within the last month, the company I work for (Sony) opened up a contest to its US & Canada employees in support of its upcoming "make.believe" ad campaign. In an effort to showcase how Sony impacts various people in various ways, employees were asked to tell their "make.believe" stories in 150 words. After taking a few minutes to think of it, I came up with this:

“Ever since I began writing short stories as a child, I had envisioned each plot, or each scene of dialogue as if it were taken from a film only I could see. For years I could not fathom the possibility of one day watching my stories, and later scripts, brought to life on film. Then, several months ago, I came across Sony’s Handycam HDR-FX1000 and was quickly aware that producing my films may not be as outrageously expensive as I had imagined. For a reasonable price and with exceptional quality, I was able to film my first web series, a sci-fi thriller titled Linked. After submitting the pilot episode to the NATPE NextTV competition, it was voted into the finalist round. I was both surprised and honored, but more so than anything, I was thankful for having been given the opportunity to show the world my vision.”

Very short version of a much longer story about how Linked was created and completed, but you get the gist. I submitted and continued with my workday. About a week later I received a call from two producers. They explained to me that my story was being considered and they wanted to hear more. Over a 15 minute conversation I explained more in depth the creation of Linked, my follow-up producer role with The Work Jerks, and how not only did purchasing the camera allow me much more creative freedom, but also opened creative doors for me within my position at Sony. They were interested. Very interested it seemed, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

The grand prize announcement was to happen on November 2^nd, and on the preceding Friday I received another call. The producer told me I was in the running to win one of three grand prizes. The grand prize winners would have their story made into a video directed and produced by the same group handling the TV ad campaigns. They would also be flown to Vegas for the launch of the campaign at CES (that’s the huge annual electronics tradeshow) where the video would debut. AND they would receive an array of Sony products. Needless to say, I spent the weekend sleepless, contemplating whether or not I’d win.

That Monday I sat silently throughout the day. I had only mentioned the possibility of my win to a couple of friends. I was too afraid I’d lose. Later that afternoon, the entire building gathered into our atrium for the announcement. I stood within a small group of friends that were aware that I was a finalist but I told them to play it cool if my name wasn’t called. Sir Howard Stinger, Chairman, CEO & President of Sony Corp, walked onto the stage, introduced a great Playstation Home presentation and then announced that the event was being telecasted to Sony offices around the US and Canada. And so the pressure worsened. Until he said my name.

I was announced as the first of the three winners. I think the first thing I did was squeal, I can hardly remember. He asked me to raise my hand and as I did, watched 500+ people turn towards me. I smiled awkwardly and was relieved when the attention returned to him as he went on to read my story aloud. Completely surreal. Some of my coworkers found their way over to congratulate me. My boss, friends and boyfriend told me I never should have doubted myself. The minutes that followed were a complete blur. I could hardly text!

The other two winners were from our SCS and SCEA groups, I was the only one from SPE, which immediately led to a flurry of congratulatory emails from my colleagues all throughout NY and LA. I was so flattered and appreciative that I stayed at my desk past my usual exit time to answer each email. This was the beginning of something very special. And all I had to do…was not completely blow it.

(Part 2: I meet with the producers , Part 3: I visit LA – coming soon!)

A Nightmare on My Street

2009-10-29T22:26:00.013-04:00

First off, let me start by saying this post is not about some neighborhood meltdown. No one was robbed or battered during the writing of this blog. What is it about then? A childhood fear realized in its entirety.

When I was almost four years old I was consumed by many things; Rainbow Brite, My Little Pony and chasing cute boys. (It started early, what can I say?) During one particular chase I ended up in a dark room with the only light shining from a TV in a far corner. A VHS player cranked nosily and a movie crept across the screen. I was mesmerized. By the boy I was chasing of course! But later, I was also intrigued by the screen. Something was happening. Something bad, and I couldn't turn away. A man in a red and black stripped sweater, face leaky and holed, brown Fedora draped on his skull, was creeping across the tube and he was scary. Super scary. Like scary in a way that one little 4 year old could never forget. He was Freddy Kruger. And because of him, I wouldn't sleep for the next seven years.

From the moment I saw "A Nightmare on Elm Street" I lost my sense of cool. Everything scared the crap out of me, even my Carebear if you threw a trashy Fedora on it. At first I couldn't sleep alone at all. When dawn would arrive you'd find me in one of two places: my mother's bed or her floor (if I was kicked out of said bed.) As I grew, the fear subsided, but only by spoonfuls. I had to sleep with the TV on. Then with a night light. And, on the eve of my start to the seventh grade, I gave it my best shot and went to sleep with a hope that nothing would go bump in the night, or claw me to death from under my bed (lovely.) I made it through that night (and all the others that followed.) Until tonight. Tonight I came face to face with my fear.

I was to attend the Fearnet screening of "Fear Clinic" starring none other than Robert Englund. I had to say his name 30 times before finally realizing it wasn't actually Freddy. I floated around the party, Chardonnay in my well-past-four-year-old hand, and while looking at my Blackberry, nearly walked into the legend himself. Looking very distinguished in a grey jacket with the collar popped, Mr. Kruger didn't look so menacing. He almost looked cool. He's just a man. He's just an actor. Nine years of insomnia for what?

I crept up to him. "Excuse me, Mister Englund?"
He turned to me with a smile.
"Because of you, I lost nine years of sleep."
He smiled at me, put an arm on my shoulder and said, "Sweetheart, it's a dirty job, but someone has to do it."
Then he posed for this picture...

...and suddenly...
I'm scared ALL over again.

=o)

Electric Empire Bridge

2009-10-27T22:54:00.009-04:00

Subject: NY

Soundtrack: Jay-Z "Empire State of Mind" and Eddy Grant "Electric Avenue"

I have a friend named Molly. She's a lot of what I am and pieces of what I want to be. When choosing a place for my bday dinner she ventures outside the city (I usually stay w/in 3 avenues of my job. Lame.). "Let's go to Dumbo (Brooklyn.)" So we end up at The Water Street Restaurant. It's the kind of places that screams "You're by the water!" the moment you enter. And that's incredibly cool.

There are mouth watering burgers and a wine selection good enough to make you lick your lips twice. Many things to talk about but we are more like vacationers in a foreign city remembering the woes of our home land. This is awesome.

Tummies full and several brain cells depleted, we are done. "Let's check out the hood," says Molly. I easily oblige. I trust this girl will find fun in anything she adds to her to-do list. We head towards Brooklyn Heights.

Up a hill and over a cobble stoned street, she stops, mouth agape. "What's wrong?" She turns to me and asks, "Can we walk the Brooklyn Bridge?" And it is then I remember I never have. I nod with childish excitement and with a skip we scratch a check onto our bucket list.

It's foggy out. Several buildings disappear into the white-grey thickness above. Captivating is not strong enough a word. Each piece of wood upon which we step reverberates 100 years of existence. I want to laugh. Just because. (What the hell was in that wine?)

We're giddy. It's ridiculous. But we pass a celebrity with a smile on her face and think, she gets it too.

New York City is called a lot of things. I think of only the positive as I gaze from halfway across the East River. I can never leave this place.

An Ipod speaker blares "I want to walk down to Electric Avenue." It's Molly. Now we're boogieing over the last few steps into Manhattan. We're laughing. It's fun.

Simply, because it's New York.

Are you a Work Jerk?

2009-10-02T11:01:00.003-04:00

Five steps to becoming the ultimate Work Jerk:

1) Learn who they are (by watching a fabulous trailer):

2) Meet them individually and learn what makes them who they are (by clicking the banner below and being redirected to their video interviews.)

3) Check out their website and get your Work Jerk knowledge on (by going to http://www.theworkjerks.com/)

4) Join the rest of the internet world by tuning in on October 7th @ 10amEST to check out the first episode of The Work Jerks! (by clicking on this banner)

5) Be greatful that you had an amazing, extremely funny and very non-jerk cast and crew to work with in making this all come together :)

The Work Jerks is a 7 episode comedy webseries, executive produced by moi, written and directed by Jaime Fernandez, a product of Side Job Productions, LLC. Many thanks to all those involved. It was so much fun to produce. Let's keep our fingers crossed for a season two :)

Me, Prankster? Never! Well, maybe :)

2009-08-19T11:16:00.006-04:00

Firstly, I realize it's been way too long since I last blogged and I'm aware that I need to step up the blog game just a bit.

Secondly, I learned a valuable lesson a couple of weeks ago: the best path to honesty is a prank.

There's this part of me that often wonders what my life would be like if I chopped half my hair off. Would every day be sunny? Would people treat me different? Would I develop special powers? (Unless extending your life span due to less time spent under a hair blower is considered magic, I think the latter is highly unlikely... BOO!)

A few weekends ago, while blowing out my heavily layered hair, I pulled the bottom layer into a pony tail and let the top layer dangle just above my chin. When I walked by a mirror I did a double take. With my hair straightened and pulled back in this particular way it totally looked like I had a bob. Interesting! I thought first. Then the devilish laugh started to bubble in my stomach and soon escaped my mouth. I quickly grabbed my camera phone, took a self portrait and sent it to several friends. This was the photo:

The replies? The three girlfriends I sent it to all loved it. They were in shock but loved it as most girls would because it's ....girly. The guys though? Ha! Their replies were "WTF?" "No you didn't!" And the best response? Jaime's: "You cut your hair?" which was then followed by "It's mad short." He's defies all that is obvious time and time again, amazes me. I think he may have passed out at some point in time because there was a delay between texts.

It wasn't until I sent out this photo later on in the day that everyone realized they had been totally fooled.

(Yes.. I took it in the bathroom of a wedding hall.) I could sense a sigh of text relief from several of those that had been pranked; Jaime, the happiest of all.

So what did I learn from this prank? There is something about hair, especially when it comes to women and how they wear theirs that completely transforms how they are perceived. There are some faces that can work with short hair and transform a woman into a sex kitten i.e. Victoria Beckham. Then their are the faces, like mine, that work with short hair in a way that makes us look cute and older. Personally, I can't picture myself cutting my hair above my shoulders until I have a small child to run after and having long hair is just a hassle. Until then, I'll stick with below the shoulder locks... And I'm guessing that pleases at least one person :-)

Citifield vs. Yankee Stadium- An Non-biased POV

2009-05-08T15:31:00.003-04:00

Before I begin my review, let me dazzle you with a bit of back story in regards to my upbringing with the Yankees and the Mets...

Back in 1982, this picture was taken:

Yeah, that’s me, a little short of being one year old, and yes, those are Yankee colors I’m wearing. Why? Well, clearly, my parents were fans and so, by no choice of my own, I was branded. Good or bad? Well, let’s continue…

When I was still very young and under the care of two working parents, I was raised by my loving aunt with whom I spent countless hours…watching Mets games. I’m old enough to remember watching the last World Series won by the Mets (1986), while secretly wearing a Mets t-shirt (“Don’t tell your dad!” my aunt said, bribing me with chocolate chip cookies.)

Then came high school, during which the Yankees won two World Series, and the winning game of one series actually fell on my birthday. How could I resist cheering them on after that?

And now? Let’s say I’ve been influenced enough to simply enjoy watching both teams. With my history, you can see I’m hardly biased by either team. That being said, the following review comes from someone who wanted to check out these hugely expensive architectural structures and report back on her experience. So let’s start with the place where my journey began…Citifield.

April 25, 2009 – The Mets were playing the Nationals, it was a glorious 80 something degrees and I was visiting Citifield for the first time with friends who hadn’t yet seen it either, and who happened to just be die-hard Mets fans. First, let me show you their overall opinion:

Checking Out Mets Citifield
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv - More professional, college and classic sports videos.

As for me? I had no “he’s not really a Met” beef with the Jackie Robinson rotunda. I thought it was a beautiful way to capture the immediate attention of those visiting the field. It had a wonderful nostalgic element from the murals down to the choice of brick. Even the placement of the escalators was artistic. From that point on, the other places we ventured through continued to capture my interest. There’s nothing more alarming than prices of souvenirs at the various shops throughout the stadium, but at least they offered cool items like throwback jerseys and mixed color uniforms. The promenade was perfectly airy and the bridge leading from the promenade to the food court gave you both a spectacular view of the field, as well as the chop shops across the street from the stadium (who doesn’t like to be reminded of the surrounding neighborhood?) The food court itself was spacious, allowed for banter over beers and had one of the best burger joints ever: Shake Shack. Just the name makes me salivate. Too bad the line was ridiculously long, ending up eating Nathan’s hot dogs. Our seats were in the Pepsi porch section of the stadium. The upside: great view of the field (we paid $37/ticket), spacious and an open-air concession stand and standing tables right behind you in case you want to take a break from the game. Downside – if it’s raining, there’s nowhere to run for cover. Lucky for us it wasn’t raining and I came home with a tan and a smile.

May 6, 2009- I was asked to visit Yankee stadium with my friend and several of her friends, all avid Yankee fans. I quickly jumped at the chance for cheap tickets ($18 for a seat in the very top terrace and 11 rows back) after hearing the stadium seats are normally high in price. Upon exiting the 4 train we were immediately met by the pristine grey walls of the new stadium. I understand grey is a Yankee color but isn't there some way to brighten that up a little? Add some dark blue maybe? Other than the color, the structure itself is dynamic, like an alien world that landed smack in the middle of the Bronx. There will always be something majestic about it. Entering through the main gate, we walked directly into a large hallway that ran from left to right. Above us hung banners of the many Yankee legends, both former and current. The Yankee museum beckoned us, but I didn't get a chance to check it out. Just the fact that it exist within this fan space is a fantastic addition. We rode the (working) escalators to our level (this is a God send to Yankee fans who before had to deal w/endless ramps to find their destinations), passed the sealed off suite level and arrived at the promenade. Much like Citifield, the Yankee promenade is open air and allows for fans to stand and catch the game from different parts of the field. Each level houses several indoor bars/lounges as well. My only qualm is once inside you can only see the game on TV since they are situated opposite of the field. From where we sat the view of the field wasn’t bad at all, and I wasn’t overwhelmed by the feeling of being so high I might as well be in space. And, when the rain started to come down, I was overjoyed by the roof that loomed above us. Despite the loss the Yankees experienced that night, I still went home happy I’d been able to check out their new digs.

After visiting both stadiums, here’s what it came down to for me...Yankee stadium does better than Citifield at providing access to its culture and history for its die-hard fans. But, I am a die-hard for neither team. So while I enjoyed my time at both stadiums, it was really gauged by the experience and feel. Yankee stadium seems to be a place for revenue, high seat/food prices, an entire level dedicated to suites I’ll never be able to get into. Citifield felt like a hang out, a place you can go to see baseball, but also a place where you can walk around and chat over a (semi-reasonably priced) beer. It felt more like home. Which means more than likely, I’ll be visiting Citifield a few more times this season. But I still have love for you Yankees! And if one of you teams could just win the World Series this year, I'd really appreciate it ;)

Virtual Models and Such

2009-02-14T23:06:00.004-05:00

This is what I do while Jaime watches the All-Star Slamdunk Contest... I make an online version of myself. Who knew this could actually be fun. Although I'm semi-creeped out by how much it looks like me. The body type/shape is EXACT!

Make yours at MVM.com

Ok, back to Valentine's Day fun :)

25 Things About Me

2009-01-30T16:05:00.003-05:00

For those of you Facebookers, you've seen this note spreading like wild fire. For those of you who are not, there is a chain note of sorts going around that asks you to list 25 random things, goals or thoughts you have or are about yourself. I decided to do it and after the end found it to be somewhat enlightening. So, for those of you who haven't seen it, enjoy. I also encourage you to make the list for yourself, even if you're the only one that will ever read it...

1.I’m doing this because several of my friends who don’t know each other tagged me in theirs and now I feel obligated.
2.My middle name is Joy (but I’m probably the least chipper person you’ll meet.)
3.I don’t know where the last 6 years of my life went. I remember turning 21 and then POOF! Suddenly I’m 27.
4.I’m capable of a lot more than people want to admit or accept.
5.I’m determined to make the people in #4 WAKE UP and smell my coffee.
6.I remember when we did these “surveys” via email, when there were no social networks yet. I bet we were all more efficient at our jobs back then.
7.When I was 11 I wrote a short story that a professional writer mistook for something that might have been done by a college student.
8.As a child I believed my Sylvester the Cat doll would protect me from all evil.
9.I believe you cannot lose hope based on one person’s opinion. If I’ve learned anything being in this [entertainment] business it’s that for everyone one person who thinks they know what everyone else wants to read, watch and listen to, there are ten people that think they are wrong.
10.Chicken soup does soothe the soul. It’s making me feel warm and fuzzy right now.
11.Certain people you work with become family. How can they not when you spend more time with them than your actual family?
12.Sushi is incredibly overrated, but that’s my opinion. So, according to #9, I’m sure a bunch of people would disagree.
13.No matter how many friends I have, it’s always the same few that know everything that’s going on in my life.
14.(In honor of V-Day) Love is knowing that no matter how many lazy hours you spend with someone on a couch watching 30 Rock/Drake & Josh/random movies, it never feels old or boring.
15.The idea of having my own children one day completely overwhelms me and I don’t know when I’ll be confident to go through with it.
16.The jury is in (or so says Jonathan and I), having an awesome sense of humor is #1 in things that attract us to potential suitors.
17.I have somewhere between 10-15 unfinished manuscripts that have accumulated since I was a child.
18.It’s time to do something about # 17.
19.#18 was a way to add more to this list. Oh wait, so is #19. (Damn it I need 6 more!)
20.If I chose to go to Applebee’s, don’t give me the Weight Watchers menu. If I wanted to diet I wouldn’t be eating there. That’s like going to McDonald’s and ordering a salad.
21.I’m fully aware that I’m better looking when I’m tan.
22.I wonder when people will stop assuming that just because I’m Puerto Rican I probably grew up in the projects. (Um, no. I actually grew up in a house with a backyard and a pool. And I’m probably a lot smarter than you if you’re making that assumption.)
23.I may never understand my parents, but I’ll love them regardless and always.
24.I wish there were more ways to cook chicken.
25.If it weren’t for Jaime, I’m not sure I ever would have found and nurtured my creativity. I'm eternally grateful :)

A Case Study: Those Who Love Chuck Bass

2009-01-27T15:55:00.004-05:00

I’m not normally one for teen dramas (outside of the time I actually was a teenager, circa the original 90210.) Don’t know where I was during My So Called Life, caught a few good episodes of Everwood, and never got into One Tree Hill (and explain to me how they are suddenly all in their mid-20s adopting teenagers?) So how did I end up addicted to Gossip Girl? Two words: Chuck Bass (or as he often likes to explain “I’m Chuck Bass.”)

During Gossip Girl’s first season, I watched an episode focused on Dan and Serena. This could easily be why I wasn’t intrigued to watch more of the show. That couple dynamic BORES me. Lowly boy loves (super) upper-class girl and that alone means they can never be, blah blah blah. (And someone please explain to me how living in a sick loft in Brooklyn is equivalent to the ‘other side of the tracks’? Do you know how much living in Dumbo BK costs?!) What I didn’t get to see was the Chuck-Blair dynamic. Lucky for me, I gave GG a second try with its season 2 premiere which revolved heavily around Chair (I’m upset there isn’t a better way to mash their names together.) Evil games, tortured souls and insane lust! Now that is what I’m talking about. That is melodramatics at its finest. That is what makes me watch television!

Although I named this blog after the character of Chuck, I have to admit that I love Blair nearly as much. I also adore their real life entities as actors much more than anyone else on the show. Leighton Meester (Blair) is by far the best actor on the show; well-rounded and doesn’t miss a beat. Although Ed Westwick (Chuck) is stuck playing the ultimate bad-ass over and over, I like him enough to be interested in seeing him try something else (something very sweet and innocent perhaps?) Regardless of what they may be capable of in worlds outside of GG, at the moment I only care about having them remain the focus of this show. One admits feelings for the other, one then publicly castrates the other, then one stops one from jumping to their death, then one runs away from the other and then…(I forget where in this vicious cycle I was!)

This leads me to the timeless question: Why do good girls love bad guys? Blair isn’t the only person in love with Chuck Bass; 95% of girls/women between 15 and 30 who I know watches the show is completely infatuated with the fictional character (5% love Nate, gag boring!) Read that carefully my friends. It’s not Ed Westwick they want to lose their virginity to in the back of a limo, it’s Chuck Bass. But he’s so…bad! Which is exactly why he’s so good; the ultimate unattainable prize. The brooding, the daddy issues, the womanizing…he’s a total mess and mortally flawed. Which is why we absolutely love him!

BUT! Do not fear, all you good boys out there! The Chuck Basses of the world may be attractive, but eventually, like the games they play, their overall effect gets tiresome. We chase the unattainable because we hope that we will be the only ones capable of nabbing the prize (Hello, Experience? Are you calling me?) However, unlike Blair, most of us come to our senses rather quickly and realize this isn’t the kind of person we want to spend our lives with. We want the guy who doesn’t humiliate us, the guy who doesn’t leave us for a Thai prostitute, and who doesn’t make us cry. So see, you good guys win after all!

And when we want our fill of a Chuck Bass experience, we just bump him up in our Netflix queue =-)

Check out Teen Vogue's interview with Ed Westwick here: http://www.teenvogue.com/industry/2009/01/ed-westwick-interview

The Holiday Coma

2009-01-11T18:26:00.006-05:00

The Monday before Christmas I made a list of all the random things I could get done with the ample amount of free time I would have from 12/24 through 1/5.

The Wednesday before Christmas (Xmas Eve), I threw the list out.

Why? Well, it has a lot to do with the fact that as soon as my brain became aware it would not have to exert itself as it normally does, it went into a state of hibernation. Case in point: On the night my vacation began I went to sleep at 11pm and woke up at noon the next day. (For all of you not great at math, that translates into I slept for 13 hours.) Weirded out that I had slept so long, I checked my clock to see if the time was wrong (it wasn't), took my temperature (perfectly fine), and then took an extra dose of vitamin C pills. Nonetheless, after I'd gone out and spent 3 hours doing some last minute shopping, I laid down on my couch... and promptly fell into a nap. It wasn't until Jaime called me an hour later to remind me we had a family party to get to, that I was even aware I'd been snoring gracefully. I shook myself awake and headed out.

Although I doubt bouncing a 3 year old on my lap for 15 minutes really causes any sort of fatigue, I was dead tired after midnight rolled around and everyone wished each other a Merry Christmas. Jaime's family thought I might have some kind of bug. I was whiny, I didn't want this to be the way I'd spend my entire Xmas vacation! I thought getting to bed would put the worst of it behind me. Yeah Right.

Christmas day, although we woke up at a decent time, it wasn't long before I was back asleep for a 4 hour nap. What was worse was that Jaime had now come down with whatever I had and joined me on that nap. What could it be that we were experiencing?

A couple of days later we headed to Virgina. Lots of food, lots of lounging and lots of chatter didn't change my bad sleeping habits, but those things did add to a great time with my family. Together we watched three Golden Globe nominated films: Benjamin Button (somebody explain to me what made Pitt & Blanchett's characters fall in love, I missed that somehow), Milk (very good if you're into politics, ok if you're not) and Slumdog Millionaire (awesome! especially the random dance break at the end -oops! spoiler. kidding, it happens during the credits.) We did not watch these at a theater, we were able to view them from my godmother's couch and I am not at liberty to say how :). Family time = fun.

While in Virgina, we were also able to visit a friend of mine who has an incredibly beautiful home and an even more incredible amount of land. What better way to travel over the extensive acres than by ATV?

Lauren & Jaime's ATV Adventure
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

After 4 days of being in VA we traveled back to NY but on the way stopped to see my goddaughter Imani who is growing so quickly I think her chicken nuggets are injected with growth hormones.

As you can probably tell with the way this story has been going, NYE ended up being very low-key: just me, Jaime and a countdown with the tube. Pretty wonderful if you ask me :)

So WHAT was the cause of my ongoing coma throughout the vacation break? Well, once I returned to work, I was back to normal (i.e. not closing my eyes every few hours.) And that basically means my body just took (extreme) advantage of the downtime. Now that I'm up and running, I'm fully energized to take on 2009. This is a year of change. I can feel it.

Happy New Year :)

So I Was Interviewed...

2008-11-25T14:57:00.003-05:00

The ever so talented Cindy Rodriguez asked if I would do an interview for a blog based on my production of LINKED. Sure, not a problem. But I must add that being on the opposite end of an interview is a new experience for me. How do you think I did? (Click on the photo below to be directed to the interview.) Thanks again to Cindy for supporting and promoting :)

My Tremulous Relationship with Creativity

2008-11-18T12:38:00.006-05:00

I've been a fiction writer for as long as I can remember. I think it started when my babysitter/aunt would take me on day trips to the park and then have me write about the experience when I returned. Those short descriptions morphed into full on 25 page manuscripts by the time I was 11, and then 100+ pages when I was 17. There was only one consistent problem; I could never finish anything I started. I had all these great ideas that would include starting and end points, but it was the middle that befuddled me. It was the middle that would haunt me.

That's probably why writing "LINKED" made me hyperventilate.

In its first stages LINKED was just a short film thought up by my friend Pablo and I. Once we filmed it though, it took on a life of its own. People thought it was a webseries and wanted to see more. So, I did what I've always done; started writing with no clear path as to where I was headed. I think I had a short moment where I lived the parallel life of a "Lost" writer. Further turbulence came with the loss of Pablo who had to move away from the project in order to focus on his new engagement and other pieces of his life. Without a director or camera, the project seemed finished without having really started. I was about to forget the whole thing when Jona (Jaime's long time friend and talented horror director) showed interest.

It wasn't until late summer, maybe even September, that I was able to meet with him and chat in person. I told him my beginning, my end, and the flurries of middledom that had no clear landing spots. And he helped. He helped me rule out the things that didn't make sense, that didn't fit the plot, and pull together the things that did. By the end of the meeting I had a storyboard going and all I needed to do was write the dialogue.

I transferred all my bootleg Word doc/scripts to a real script writing program and prepared my own crash course on how to write scripts properly. Over the course of 2 days I pumped out the remaining 8 episodes equalling about 80-85 pages, with little corrections and "What if Gabe said this" moments from Jaime which were very helpful. My friend Henry jumped in to edit tweaks in the first few episodes and entirely edit the last few. It was all coming together to look like an actual series. So finally, we're ready to complete filming. The only problem? It was November and we'd started this project last May. Weather was entirely different and against us in every way. But we filmed.

We cranked out back to back filming days in the first weekend, and another full weekend which just passed. We have one more day to go until I can say the filming portion is finally over. Maybe if I weren't involved as a writer, director, producer and actress it wouldn't be so draining. But, as I look over my amazing crew, I see that it's not just me that is ready to gladly crawl under a rock and sleep for at least a week. We've been busting our asses and from the footage I've seen thus far, it's been well worth it. My production team has been amazing and my actors have fully grown into their characters (to the point where we all keep confusing our real names for character names when talking to and about each other.) It's been quite the experience.

Now that it's almost reached it's point of conclusion, I've also realized it's made me aware of what I'm capable of. Will I pursue a career in any of the several hats I wore during this production? Not so sure, I do like my steady paycheck. But what I do know, is that I can if I wanted to. And maybe that's all I needed to learn....

Mucho thanks to Jona, Henry and Jerry (my clutch AD!) for all the time and effort you've dedicated.
Special thanks to Pablo, for his early involvement and pushing me to get this idea out of my head.
Mike, Jose, Cortes, Paul, Ariobin, Bryan, Amanda, my mom, Claudette, Danny and Frankie for helping bring my characters to life and sticking around on set to support when you could have gone home.
To everyone who keeps watching, commenting and supporting the series.

And a very incredible amount of thanks to Jaime. Besides the fact that you are the star of this show, you have stood by me and believed in me since day one and have fully committed yourself no matter how tired you got. Like Lynn says... "I owe you." ;)

Below are some videos. To my email subscribers, you'll have to go to my actual blog to see the vids (http://www.laurenjrivera.com/). The first was taken after I crashed on day 3 of filming and apparently woke everyone up from my snoring. Very funny, Jona. Very funny.

Snooze
Uploaded by jona81680

And if you haven't caught up with LINKED yet, here are Episodes 1 & 2... Enjoy!

LINKED - Episode 1: Dream Boy
Uploaded by LinkedTV

LINKED - Episode 2: What Friends Are For
Uploaded by LinkedTV

Popping My Live Performance Cherry

2008-11-13T09:55:00.003-05:00

As we all know, I wear many hats. When it comes to Room 28 though, I've stuck mainly to management, promotion and the occasional video cameo. Last night however, that all changed.

Orphans International and Capicu! came together to raise funds for Orphans International Dominican Republic branch at La Pregunta Arts Cafe by way of a variety show. I arrived a little early to the event, which would be masterfully emceed by Papo Swiggity and Divine. After me, arrived Mike and then Jaime. They retreated downstairs to the green room to run over the skit they'd be peforming with Jerry. As the show was close to starting I made my way downstairs and found Jaime and Mike looking worried. It turned out Jerry was stuck in New Jersey and the closest he could come to making it was maybe an hour into the show. We all looked at each other for a moment and then I checked out the script. They were going to redo a skit called Hooters Waiter, but without their third person it wasn't going to fly. Jaime was looking at me right in the eye and I knew what he was thinking without asking it.
"You want me to do it?" I asked.
"Would you?"

The big "dun dun dunnnnn" behind this is that I'd never done a live stage performance before and I really don't go around promoting myself as an actress outside of the small cameos I've made. I looked over my boys whose stomachs were clearly tied in knots and said, "Ok. I'll do it. But we need to rehearse the shit out of this RIGHT NOW."

And so we did. For the next 30 minutes we ran the skit over and over until finally we all thought, This is actually going to work!

We returned to the cafe to hear the likes of Homeboy Sandman who just happens to be on my friend Sucio's label (High Water Music) and whose flow caught my interest immediately. It was after HS that our group was introduced and Jaime approached the stage to help the audience transition to comedy with his stand up. He did his thing (as he always does) and segued into our skit.

Was I nervous?

TERRIBLY!

Until I got to the stage that is. Once I was up there seated across from Jaime, all nervousness flew out the window and I just went with it, which isn't hard at all when a) you know your boyfriend's comedic timing like the back of your hand and b) Mike shows up in short shorts and my main job is to act like there is nothing more I want than his package. I had lines and they were delivered well, we heard the crowd laugh uproariously and when it was all over we each received congrats and praise... even me; the little one that never did stage before. Now I know what Jaime means when he talks about the high he gets from performing live. I'm hoping to find a clip of the video to share soon, will post when I do.

Interesting night. A new task under the belt. Who knew.

Just a Year Ago

2008-11-04T23:48:00.005-05:00

Life was different.

I could care less about politics and had never exercised my right to vote. I never felt like my opinion mattered, things would just roll on as they always had. I watched my country fall apart under the leadership of a clueless man which only seemed to strengthen my belief because really, if my (our) opinion did matter would he have ever made it into a 2nd term? It all just seemed so... pointless.

And then the tide changed directions suddenly and out of nowhere. A black man and a woman were battling it out for the Democratic nomination for President. This is getting interesting, I thought to myself. I began to watch, I began to learn, I began to become... invested. Jon Stewart and Bill Maher were now heading two of my newest TV show favorites (sure, they aren't on MSNBC but baby steps for me, please.) I found myself in the middle of discussions I never thought I'd have, debating issues and policies. And then, to my surprise, it became even bigger than it already was.

Obama won the Democratic nomination and he was pitted against McCain, who I will say is a very honorable man, but who made a ridiculous choice for his running mate. Immediately, I was scared. It was so obvious to me that having someone like Palin so close to the most powerful seat in the nation was ludicrous, but I wondered, was America ready to overlook the lines of race and elect a black President even if they knew how terrible a President she would be should anything happen to McCain? I'm a 3rd generation American of Puerto Rican decent (which is actually a part of America anyway, but we won't get into that right now) and even I have experienced my share of racism. I was nowhere near convinced that the people of my country could overpower this.

It came down to the last weeks before election day where I bit my nails continuously as I monitored various polls. Democrats were sure of a victory, but I felt caution - 90% of anything I've ever wanted, I didn't get because (I feared) I wanted it too badly. Just wait until the eve of November 4th you guys, just wait and then celebrate! And then November 4th came.

I live in New York, so yeah, in essence my vote didn't "matter" because Obama was going to win NY regardless of how I voted. But it DID matter. It mattered because I was a part of an incredible wave of participation this country has never seen before. It mattered because I felt my heart beating through my chest as I entered the polling area. It mattered because it was about time I learned how to work a poll booth (and let me tell you, all those little levers are confusing. I pulled a monitor aside and asked her, "Can you please just show me how to vote for Obama?" With a smile, she obliged.) It mattered because if he won I could say I was a part of it. It mattered because...because it just DOES.

As I worked around my house, busying myself with anything that had nothing to do with watching election specials on TV, I started to lose control. I switched on the tube. Obama was leading but there was a gap of less than 75. I kept it together, we still hadn't won YET. I spoke to my friend Jerry on the phone, "I'll believe it when I see it" he said. I was with him 100%.

And then we saw it.

The West coast polls closed and Obama soared well past 270. I shouted incoherent noises and told Jerry I had to call him back. And when we hung up, and I sat down on my couch, I put my head in my hands and cried.

This wasn't just a battle to get a man into the White House. This had been a battle to show each and every one of us that change IS happening. Change in our ability to ignore race and respect capability and human quality. Change in the way my generation rocked the SHIT out of this vote (pardon my French, I needed it for the emphasis.) Change in the way we view opportunity. Change in the way we feel our voices are heard. Change. Change....Change.

For the first time in my life, I care about this country. I care what happens. I care to participate....

I leave you with this quote, I'm not sure who said it, but I feel it says it all...

“Rosa sat, so Martin could walk. Martin walked, so Obama could run. Obama is running, so our children can fly.”

and so now, we can say they can...

Lindsay Lohan and My Reflection

2008-10-30T20:42:00.004-04:00

Last year I attended an event called "Do Something" which encouraged young adults to motivate and do something for their communities. Celebs like Nigel Barker were there (where my ANTM fans at?!) The person that wasn't there was Lindsay Lohan. Instead she was next door, hanging out in a hi-rise apartment building. And the only reason I know this is because I almost got run over by her afterwards. As I leaned against the back of a cab waiting for my car service, I watched paparazzi crowding the sidewalk and suddenly found myself blinded by an onslaught of flashes. I could hardly see what was coming towards me when out of nowhere someone shouted for me to move. It took me a second to realize a bodyguard was the one shouting at me to make way for Ms. Lohan. I jumped aside just in time to see Lindsay rush past me into a black SUV (so cliche, why can't they come in bright pink?)

Tonight I attended a party where Samantha Ronson was the DJ. From the moment we received the invites, there were whispers as to whether Lindsay would be attending as well. It made me wonder how Samantha feels about being, at one time, known only for her good DJing skills, to suddenly being famous and having her picture plastered everywhere simply because she made one of Hollywood's young and troubled stars into a lesbian? confused bisexual? Neither of which I care, and for what it's worth it seems the stories about Lindsay doing blow are long gone, so, good for those ladies! But as I stood there observing those around me gawk, glare and sneak phone pics of the twosome once Lindsay arrived, I wondered what does stardom even mean anymore? I feel as though there are now only three ways into Hollywood: scandal, YouTube or somehow finding your way into a hit show or movie no later than when you're 15 years old. Who gives a crap about quality anymore? And I find that incredibly sad.

I'm surrounded by a plethora of talented people. I may even be one myself. But, logically speaking, the majority of them will go unnoticed or beat themselves into the ground trying and then wake up and realize they are 40 and still at the same place there were 15 years earlier. Does that mean they should give up? Not at all, but you must come to understand why you're doing it. I do the things I do because there's a level of fulfilment I receive when I see my articles published, my screenwriting come to life or my photos end up in random places like AM NY, that I'll never get from the 9-5 I have. But the 9-5 is what pays me. It's why I was able to afford my own home and hire a stylist. And although my family may wonder why I wear myself so thin doing so much, I'll never question myself. I'll continue to live my life this way because it's what completes me.

So Ms. Lohan, my advice to you is live up the life God has granted you and run with it for as long as you can because you can only be young and in the eye of the paparazzi for so long before you become just that crazy Hollywood kid that never grew up. I wish you the best of luck as I do to all others who are striving for just a piece of your stardom.

Making a Horror Film: Tips from the Experts

2008-10-29T20:56:00.011-04:00

1. Ignore the long lines at the haunted studios of Universal Studio's Halloween Horror Nights and create your own fun by doing laps around the entire park.

2. As you fight off the stares of totally creepy men costumed as wolves who love to dress in drag , become inspired to create a richly amateur movie depicting the horrors of two lovers who lose each other in a scary town called "Everything is Fake-ville." Convince yourself it will be very avant-garde.

3. Use props and studio lots when no one's looking to film very important climactic moments.

4. Take a break to stick your head in Jaws's mouth just to see if he'll bite.

5. Or, as an alternative to #4, hang out with a deranged Mad Hatter who, at any moment, might actually bite your head off.

6. Observe as dimwitted onlookers get skeeved out by the sight of rats crawling over a lady in a see-through coffin when in reality the rats are scared beyond belief to even be in there with her.

Afterwards, realize your boyfriend is missing and notice that he is balled up on a far away stoop repeating to himself, "I shall not be afraid. I shall not be afraid. Mickey Mouse is my friend."

At this point you shake your head, disbelieving that he could be so scared of a harmless creature. You stop when you're suddenly distracted by a tiny centipede sliding across the street several feet away from you sending you into a fight of screams and "God help me!" shouts.

7. Try to provoke one of the scary monsters to chase you so that you can catch the scene on film. Then actually find yourself screaming of fear as they chase and you no longer find it funny.

8. After several hours of running around the park, being scared by nonsense, filming things of greater nonsense and having a ton of fun doing it, rush back to your hotel just so that you can edit the film right there on the spot and have it ready to release the moment your laptop can hold an internet connection long enough for the upload process.

9. Blog about your experience and post your masterpiece so that all your friends, followers and family can comment on how amazingly fantastic your creative skills are.

Halloween Horror Night - The Jaime and Lauren Story
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

(To those that subscribe via email go here to see the video:http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x781zh_halloween-horror-night-the-jaime-an_shortfilms)

10. Post a photo with the Simpsons family although it has nothing to do with the rest of your blog, simply to show people how much fun you had on your birthday vacation.

Getting to Know "PB&J"

2008-10-20T13:20:00.008-04:00

The best thing about being in a circle of so many creative people is the possibility of finding yourself engaged in anything from script writing to having random pillowfights in the streets of Brooklyn, NY. There's actually more meat to the latter part of that statement, so let me explain...

Jaime never ceases to amaze me with his multifaceted talent. My latest introduction was to his collaboration with one Pete Bune, a member of Long Island's original public access team of misfits called "The Slack Pack". Pete, on first notice, comes across as so calm, cool and collected you would never imagine him to jump in on bits like "Nigel Hardon's Dildo Galaxy." Yes, you read that correctly. So I guess it's at this point that I must provide a disclaimer: THE HUMOR YOU ARE ABOUT TO EXPERIENCE IS R-RATED!

Mind-warpingly-funny Jaime meets so-out-there-funny Pete and they come together as the newest comedic Voltron warrior: PB&J (yes, like the sandwich.) Now, I've been hearing about this project for quite some time, seen the interaction of the two at table readings, and promised to be the squishiness between their PB and J (TMI, sorry.) But, it wasn't until a brisk Sunday in October that I joined the duo (and several other of Pete's faithful friends) to team in on the creation of their intro.

There were costume changes, makeup applications, long absurd lists of fornication and baby chucking, and yet I came out of it feeling completely normal. Maybe that just means I'm strange. So here you are, the intro to the upcoming season of "The PB&J Show".. (To my family and friends who are easily offended by mention of bodily parts, you are fully warned! And remember, it's all in fun!)

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Breakdancers for life!

Style Me! Episode 2

2008-10-06T09:19:00.003-04:00

The first step in obtaining a new style? Get rid of the stuff that makes you look like crap! Check out this video where Rashad goes through all my jeans and gives pointers every lady should consider when shopping for their bottom half.

Style Me Episode 2
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

(For those of you that subscribe via email you'll have to click on the highlighted "Style Me Episode 2" in order to see the vid.)

Social Studies & Me

2008-10-02T16:15:00.000-04:00

When I was in college social networking was fresh and blooming. I was part of an online community called MiGente.com where Latinos go to meet (even the non-Spanish speaking, 3rd generation American ones like me.) Within a week of membership I was connected to a double digit number of college guys spreading throughout the Northeast. There were notes, IMs and picture comments galore! Then I landed myself a boyfriend (not through the site) and MG became a thing of the past. Once I graduated I found out about this new site called MySpace and learned I could connect with the general public, reconnect with old friends and loop into a new addiction of profile updating.

I don't have to tell you what MySpace grew into since then, unless of course you've taken up residence at the North Pole and spend your days playing cards with Santa (oh no wait, he friend requested me last week - never mind.) Suddenly everyone's computer screen at work had MySpace plastered somewhere until the boss went by and a series of minimizing mouse clicks reigned throughout the office. The site became a place to display your personality to the world, unless of course your profile was set to private. And for those not interested in having people find them, you could easily list your full name as Seymour Butts without a moment's hesitation from the site. All was fine and dandy until Facebook came along.

At first you could only join if you had a college email address. Then you could join via your company email. Then Facebook said to hell with the MySpace competition and let everyone join but full names were more of a necessity. I joined because... I'm a drone and do anything everyone else does. Plus, you can't Facebook-stalk people unless you're a member.

I constantly received notices saying so-and-so wanted me to add an application that did things like rate how hot people thought I was. I would instantly reject, knowing damn well that these applications were just another ploy for God to remind me how not flattering my hips were becoming. It was all so complicated that I just stuck with accepting friends and writing on walls. If it were that difficult for me to comprehend, there would be no way anyone older than me would find there way around...right?

Wrong.

My cousin Danielle became new to Facebook while we were vacationing in the Outer Banks of North Carolina...
"Lauren, how do I add pics?"
"Danielle, pass me the suntan lotion."
"Lauren, seriously! How do I update my status?"
"You realize we're on a beach right?"
"Come on, this is fun! Everyone I know is on here!"
In the week that followed, Danielle came to believe she was the most popular girl this side of the Chesapeake Bay bridge tunnel... until she had friended everyone she knew, and then there were no new friend requests. Poor thing.

Her peek into the world of social networking prompted an invitation for my godmother/her mother to join Facebook as well. Which clearly left me aware of what would come next...

My mom joining Facebook.

First there was the email notification I received that screamed "Your mother wants to be your friend!" Once that was accepted, this is what was written on my wall:

Well Mom, first things first this:

means your bisexual so I suggest you change that to simply "Men", unless there is something you'd like to tell me (in which case I think I'm upset you chose to tell the Facebook world first.)
"But I'm only saying I'm interested in making both male and female friends."
"Umm, no. That's not what it means mom. Do you want my help or not?"

I expect that by this evening I'll be given her password to fix up her page, post some pics and make her look like the coolest mom on the planet (which of course she is.) And will have completed the social experiment I was never aware I was a part of; the experiment in which I see social networking close the age gap and cause me to fight my mom for the award for best Facebook profile.

Which is all good... as long as she doesn't join MySpace.

It's More Important Than You Think

2008-10-01T16:41:00.002-04:00

REGISTER! www.declareyourself.com

You ever watch American Idol or Dancing with the Stars and see how the people you thought would win don't because people didn't vote for them thinking it was pointless bc so many people would vote for them that their individual little vote didn't matter? And then BAM! the people you thought would win don't or the people you didn't think would win do because of those who DIDNT vote... Well the Presidential election is the same thing.
VOTE!

Things That Only Happen to Me: Story 1 of 1000

2008-09-19T12:28:00.001-04:00

It is not my intention to get into my personal life on this blog, but for the matter that is this entry I must mention that the year anniversary of my relationship with my boyfriend was this past weekend. As an anniversary gift, he set me up at a spa he’d seen highlighted on a “best of NY” type of show. The gift was incredibly thoughtful, especially considering I’ve been a mess physically for the past month or so. I will not mention the name of this spa because I would not want to discourage anyone from visiting it as long as you’re okay with a couple of things that to me were entirely embarrassing. So, with no further adieu, here is the (incredibly long) story of my spa experience…

Upon entering the reception area I was immediately warm and fuzzy with smells of lavender and citrus. The foreign woman behind the counter (we’ll call her The Russian) greeted me in a way that relayed she’s a total bitch but trying extra hard to be welcoming. She guided me up a walk way set to resemble a wooden bridge, while piling slippers, towel, robe and disposable bathing suit onto my open arms as if preparing me for battle. By her guidance I was hurried through the locker room area (an open space, not a room) and didn’t understand what the rush was since it seemed I was the only one around. After leaving my belongings in a locker, I found a room with some sinks and mirrors, closed the door behind me and changed into the “bathing suit”. Its fabric reminded me of the caps worn when entering a medical facility. Clearly, it was not flattering to my shape.

I emerge from the changing room and find The Russian. After asking her where I’m supposed to go, she rambles off, “Go shower, then go to the coal sauna, then bath, then steam room and then the body scrub.” This was all in one breath and I lost her after “shower.” I just smiled and headed for the back area where the showers were hidden by a contorted wall of tile. As I stood there, about to turn the shower on, I suddenly wondered why I even needed to shower, I was about to go sweat in a sauna. So I stood there for a minute and then quickly shut it off, toweled off and placed my robe back on. Walking out to the open area, a small Asian lady met me by the sauna and stripped me of my robe in one quick movement. Standing there in the shitty makeshift bathing suit, I asked how long I was supposed to stay in the sauna. She instructed 5-10 minutes, then opened the midget-sized door to the stone cave and ushered me in.

The heat hit me immediately as I made my away across the cave to the back where I sat on a wooden bench. There was no one in there but me and so I breathed in deeply and told myself to relax. This works for about 2.56 minutes when I suddenly realize this place is HOT! I look at the ceiling, at the bench around me, at the floor. This is supposed to be soothing, I remind myself. But, in just a few more minutes I give up and exit the sauna, running into The Russian once more. She instructs that I can go into either pool, but that cold would be better for me and then leaves immediately. I touch the colder pool with my toe and instantly notice she forgot to categorize it as “ice pool.” F’ that! Into the warm pool I sink, accompanied by floating lemons on either side of me. I take a deep breath… And then start flicking lemons across the pool with my index finger. Within moments I’m bored and apparently not good at this relaxation thing.

I climb out of the pool and ask a small Asian woman if I can go to the body scrub and she tells me I must do the steam room first. With a sigh I head towards it. I nearly lose my breath as the door closes behind me and must remind myself this is not a Korean water torture method. I last 30 seconds and exit. I find the same woman once more and ask her, almost pleading, “Body scrub now?” She looks at me baffled, turns to another woman and speaks in a language I don’t understand. I’m sure they are telling each other what a worthless piece of crap I am and how they wish they could throw me out. But, they do it with smiles. I am directed to the back of the loft, winding beside walls of stone and bypass a woman lying on a bed, covered in towels and adorned with a cucumber face mask. That looks nice.

A wall of bamboo rods separates the woman from another area with two beds where I am directed by the Asian woman behind me. She directs me to the bed on the left and tells me to lie down. I take off my robe and begin to climb onto the bed when she tells me, “Take clothes off.” Huh? “Naked,” she clarifies. I’m not sure if she saw the gulp go down my throat, but I’m sure she heard it. She doesn’t realize she’s talking to someone who goes into a bathroom stall to change while in the women’s locker room. “Naked?” I repeat. She just looks at me. I slowly begin to strip, all the while coaxing myself into believing this is supposed to be an angelic experience.

Within moments of me lying down, she begins to throw buckets of hot-warm water over my body. Maybe she wasn’t “throwing” necessarily, but I was too busy staring at the tiled walls that were beginning to resemble the shower room of a women’s detention center. When I’m soaked she starts rubbing what feels like Brillo up and down my body. While completely uncomfortable, I count down the moments until she’s done. “Over,” she says. I jump up thinking she means the torture is over. “No, no. Over (she makes a hand movement) other side.” I try not to frown and flip over.

Now my mind wanders and I imagine that as I lay there some fictitious woman who I loath because of her perfect body type gasps at the sight of me and says “Lauren, you’re so brave to go commando like that.” As I look up at her I see that she is in a bathing suit. I try to cover myself up but clearly I have nothing to do that with except my hands. “Brave?” I question feebly. “Yeah, you didn’t take the bathing suit option.” As she walks away giggling to herself I would shout (straight out of a Seinfeld episode) “Option?! There was no option!”

I blink myself out of the nightmare and am fully relieved to find out that end of the massage which followed the scrub signals that we’re finished. I'm handed my suit (as if that were relevant anymore) and head to the shower where it all started. This time it’s actually useful. Fully cleansed and ready to depart, I wrap myself in only my robe and step out of the shower area where I see… men! Several of them! They are robed and moving around the loft, paired with women who I’m assuming are their girlfriends, wives or mistresses. Without looking anyone in the eye, I shuffle towards the locker area where a couple surrounds my locker. It’s immediately obvious to me that I’m the only single person in the establishment and fear an oncoming invitation to a threesome. (What is this place?!) Looping around the now coed locker area, I find a room all the way in the back that has a door and so I jump in and lock it behind me.

When I resurface the woman that tortured, err scrubbed me, finds me and ushers me to a bar area where she hands me warm lemon water and a plate of fruit. I’m allergic to fruit. I’m afraid to mention this. But, as a few moments pass, I see that she’s aware I’m not eating. I try to explain I’m allergic to fruit and she looks at the same woman she spoke with earlier about me. Smiles and takes the fruit away. Then she sticks around and it dawns on me she’s waiting for a tip. Only problem is I didn’t think of this ahead of time and so I only have $10 in cash on me. I roll up the money in a way that makes it hard to see what the roll consists of, hand it over to her and make a run for the exit.

At the reception area I press for the elevator and wait anxiously for its arrival. I was unaware that The Russian was behind me until she said, “Great surprise wasn’t it?” How incredibly ironic for her to ask. I smile and quickly jump into the elevator ramming the DOOR CLOSE button with my thumb.

My boyfriend meets me downstairs and immediately asks, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been violated.” He’s distraught to think his gift may have turned out badly. I reassured him that his idea was a perfect one and it’s not his fault that I’m not comfortable being naked. Over Korean BBQ dinner I tell him the entire story and he’s in tears with laughter which causes me to laugh to the point of stomach pain. Not only does the experience make for an entertaining story, it will probably be the most memorable anniversary gift I’ll ever receive.

Fashion Rut... Fashion Fix

2008-09-17T20:56:00.004-04:00

As I saw summer quickly coming to an end, I was immediately aware of the pending danger that is the fall fashion wardrobe. Knocking around through my closet, I came up with maybe one decent outfit and then a large collection of... crap. Pants were too big, shirts too small and shoes that were borderline orthepedic (eww!) But before I went out and blew a bunch of mula on things that would end up being mismatched I had an idea. If celebrities have fashion stylists, why can't I?! And where better to find someone offering such a service than on Craigslist.com?

Instead of telling you the story behind the whole process, the winning stylist (I screened about 5), Rashad Webb and I, decided on making a video to document the experience. Below is episode one, an introduction to us both. Check it ;)

Style Me! Episode 1
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

Episode 2 will be coming soon... Are you ready to see what's in my closet??

(If you'd like information on Rashad, feel free to email me at info@laurenjrivera.com and I will make sure to introduce you.)

Interviewing Friends

2008-09-11T18:30:00.000-04:00

When you're a journalist, a social butterfly and frequent mover through the entertainment industry, there's a strong possibility that you'll find yourself working on a magazine piece that involves someone you know. It's happened to me more than once, but the most memorable was a Bombin' Magazine piece on my friend, Bobbito Garcia.

"Bobby Fisher" of Bombin' Magazine was well aware of my friendship with the legendary b-ball/DJ/sneaker guru/entrepreneur and elbowed me in the rib while asking, "So you think you can get Bob to do a piece in Volume 3?" After consoling said rib, I replied, "I could ask." I hit up Bob who agreed to the piece as long as "you're the one writing it." Ah! Scary! But, I said, "Fine." See, here's the thing with writing. After you get passed your first artist/celebrity interview, the first time your editor rips apart your writing and you think you'll die and then you realize after re-reading what you submitted "Damn, since when did I lose consciousness of grammar?", after all that... it becomes easier. Almost routine... As long as you're not dealing with someone who knows you.

As I sat there prepping for the interview I blanked out. I couldn't think of an angle or damn thing worth asking. I knew a lot about Bob and I couldn't get out of that mindset to remind myself that not everyone knew what I knew and they would want to know. I had to pretend I knew nothing about Bob. It helped that as we drove in the publisher's Range Rover up to Bob's house, the crew (consisting of EIC, publisher and photographer) spit around random ideas, helping me to settle on asking Bob completely random associations of events and sneakers. When we arrived at his home, I was ready... sort of.

As we greeted him hello and he hugged me tightly, he mentioned how much he was looking forward to having it be me to do this. He said, "I get asked the same questions all the time. It's cool to know someone who knows me is doing it this time and has the edge to be different." GULP! We settled down at his dining table and I set up my voice recorder, starting with the most obvious questions as to where he's from and all that wonderfulness. "Lauren, you know where I'm from," he laughed. "Bob! Let's pretend I don't know you. I just need this all on record so I can pull it all together when I write." He laughed and gave in. The interview continued with laughs and quality answers. When it was all done I felt both relieved and content. Bob thanked me for such a fun interview and I left happy.

As an interviewee, Bob had provided me with entertaining information that helped me bring together an enjoyable piece. As a friend and mentor, he had given me the confidence to create something fresh and original. Thanks, Bob!

So I'm Not Very Political...

2008-09-05T16:51:00.012-04:00

... but how can anyone deny the significance of this election???

Before I begin the storytelling, let me set a disclaimer: I do not usually analyze politics, I've never before taken the time to watch a debate, and November 4th will be the first time I've ever voted (and I've already had the opportunity to do so twice.) Maybe it's these points combined that make me the best person to state what's obvious since I'm fresh to the subject at hand.

For the duration of 2008 thus far, through my non-political perspective, I had only been aware of one battle: Hilary vs. Obama. McCain who? Who cares! There was a historic milestone developing around the race for President that had nothing to do with the Republican party. For months I saw the ads, heard the debates, and viewed the increasing involvement by my generation in determining who would take the Democratic nomination. Personally speaking, I believe an Obama/Hilary ticket would have been phenomenal, but after seeing them at odds I knew it was not possible. Regardless, those months were legendary. After all was said and done I had one lingering fear. The fear that all the efforts to bring change to our government while simultaneously changing our history by the addition of either a female or African American President, would be pointless because the majority of Americans may not be ready. And what is so disappointing is that the values and standpoints of either candidate could be entirely irrelevant if a voter couldn't see past gender and race lines. And it would be in that case that McCain, who just sat silently and unseen all along, could just sweep up the nomination for President. But, then the conventions happened...

First, the Democratic National Convention where Hilary and Bill rocked regardless of the fact that they won't be able to call the White House home again in 2008. Where the audience was young, vibrant and ready for something new and something smart to happen with this government. And where Obama gave a speech that moved me. It wasn't that I was trying to let it move me either, I was just listening and suddenly felt my eyes burning with happy tears. I'm not normally that dramatic, seriously. Maybe I don't need to see an extensive resume in politics to feel that someone knows what they are talking about and that, more importantly, the person I'm listening to commands change and immediately makes me want to do something about it. If he can do that to me, someone who normally could care less about paying attention to anything discussed on CNN during campaign time, then I have no doubts about his ability to get others to listen. Sometimes engagement is the strongest force someone can have. You can talk politics all day but if I'm not engaged from the initial moment, anything you end up saying is entirely lost.

Then came McCain's choice of Sarah Palin for VP. I could end this whole blog entry right now. His choice has to be the most absurd thing I've ever heard. But, I'll get to that in a second. Let me touch on the Republican National Convention. Probably the single most boring event I've ever seen on television where everyone is either 1)old, 2)white, 3)wearing a ridiculous hat, 4)looking stuffy in suits and ties or worse, 5)all of the above. Where was the diversity? And I'm not sure if anyone noticed but any non-white people in the audience looked completely staged. Anyway, the audience isn't necessarily the important part. The speeches were what solidified my belief to continue being anti-Republican. First off, why doesn't anyone come right out and say "Bush ****ed up!" Instead, we hear how the Republicans will "change" the state of the country. I'd have so much more respect for them if they would acknowledge their obvious 8 year mistake. I'll admit I didn't hear Palin's speech, but I was too busy learning her husband is part of a secession group that is looking to make Alaska its own country. Um, excuse me! (Hand raised) Isn't McCain's whole slogan "Country first"?? Ironic isn't it? Then there was the rest of his speech which I don't even remember except for that he's a war hero. I respect the man for that, he went through horrific ordeals as a soldier and deserves much praise... but that doesn't equal Presidential glory for me. Not to mention... were anything to happen to McCain during office a completely unqualified and totally off the wall person would then become President and have the greatest power in all of the world?? Oh wait, this country HAS been through that already. And have we not learned ANYTHING????? **Sigh**

Bill Maher and Jon Stewart are my heroes. Check out this clip from the Daily Show that says it all...

OBAMA '08!!!

(9.11.08...After this post encouraged several conversations on the matter I came to this point of being reminded why I've never been that interested in politics to begin with... No matter who wins the Presidency, the odds of me being directly affected, whether immediately or ever, are not tremendous. The President isn't going to change my career path, or help my loved ones with the issues affecting their lives. The most I (or anyone) can do as a citizen of this country is to live my life how I want/need to and do my own personal best to make this world a better place. Because, when it comes down to it, we're the only ones that can make real change happen. )

New Reality Series?

2008-08-12T23:35:00.002-04:00

Sometimes even when we're not filming, we are...
Check out me, Latin Daddy (Mike) and Jaime on our way to Connecticut last December...

LD & Friends: The Connecticut Road Trip Pt. 1
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

The Connecticut Road Trip Part 2
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

The Connecticut Road Trip Part 3
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

Moving & Growing...Up

2008-08-11T13:30:00.000-04:00

Back in May I completed the process of buying my first home, a one bedroom apartment in Fleetwood, NY. Friends and family not close enough to visit, ask that I take video footage and send for them to see. I turned that into a documentary process and below are the results. Definitely not the most entertaining footage, but life is sometimes just...life. And, from the footage where I look like absolute crap, you'll come to realize I'm one of the most non-vain people you may know (or am I actually vain by giving that disclaimer? lol)...

Lauren's Big Move Pt 1
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

Lauren's Big Move Pt 2
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

Lauren's Big Move Pt 3
Uploaded by LaydeeRiv

The NYILFF and Me

2008-07-29T01:17:00.000-04:00

A monster was born several months ago. It began when the mastermind of the NY International Latino Film Festival (NYILFF), Calixto Chinchilla, asked Jaime and Jerry to pen a script for the NYILFF promotional commercial. Me, being the duo's manager (oh, I didn't mention I do that too?) had them camp out at my house to break night writing the script. They call it "forcing creativity", I call it "getting their asses to write on purpose." Inevitably, it worked and the next day they had a script to present. There were giggles around the room as it was read aloud and we were all convinced it was a winning piece.

Over the next few weeks that followed, an audition for the commercial was held where both Jaime and Jerry were asked to try out, and having been the ones to create the thing, they landed spots easily. Mike was asked to audition as well and quickly made the cut. The final version, which combined both their script and some improv from the actors wrapped up in June and looked a little something like this:

New York International Latino Film Festival 2008

This is an unaired version of just Jaime and Mike's cuts re-edited by Lyn-don McCray:

New York International Latino Film Festival Promo Shoot

On the weekend of July 4th the commercial was released to AMC theaters around NYC. People who ventured to see Dark Knight were greeted by the witty catchphrases of my boys. Another catapult to stardom was the release of the commercial to Time Warner Cable channels. I started to receive feedback that the commercial was viewed on TBS, TNT and the Food Network. But, it was the week leading into the festival that brought the spot to air during the Today show. As I stood brushing my teeth, I overheard "It's about a girl from the Bronx" come from my TV and ran out (brush still in my mouth) to watch the commercial in its entirety. There's something incredibly gratifying about seeing the faces of your friends/clients on the tube and it not be an appearance on the local news.

Before we knew it, the week of the festival had arrived. It all began with the opening night/red carpet for the premiere of "American Son". Jerry's face was plastered all over welcome signs and volunteer badges, while Jaime appeared on the badges of filmmakers. These still shots, taken during the commercial filming, were everywhere and semi-creepy after a while, but nonetheless they only demonstrated how closely associated the guys were with the festival. Jaime you forgot your badge? No worries! Just go stand next to a filmmaker and smile, they'll let you in.

The red carpet frenzy wasn't entirely new to me considering I've worked them as a runner in the past. What was different was seeing the likes of Daddy Yankee and P-Rod (Paul Rodriguez's son) walk down that fuzzy crimson walkway. The majority of the celebrities were Latino (shocker!), and although the title of the festival clearly indicates the films must in some way relate to Latinos, this was still new to me. Furthermore, seeing a young woman nearly pass out from extensive bouts of crying after passing by Daddy Yankee, made me do a double take. What world is this? Who cares! I love it.

Wednesday's premiere of the short film "Sandman's Box", was a proud display of the hard work created by my good friends and colleagues. Watching them all up on the big screen, or knowing they were behind the camera, was an exhilarating experience. Not to mention I forgot how mentally horrific the premise for the film was and nearly spent most of my time hiding my face behind my hands. It was a scary as hell masterpiece.

(Cast, director and producer of "Sandman's Box")

The next five nights consisted of juggling red carpet interviews, attending premieres and making new friends. By Sunday we were all burnt out and wrapped the week up with some laughs, some awards and some great memories. I could consider that I was pretty involved in the festival this time around, but something tells me they haven't seen the last of me ;-).

Godmothering 101

2008-07-14T09:47:00.000-04:00

"Lauren, DO NOT LOSE IMANI!" was the advice my mother gave me the night before I left to Pennsylvania to pick up my 4 year old goddaughter. By the time I arrived in Allentown I was terrified of a possible abduction while on my watch. As Imani bounded out of her house, a ball of energy, I quickly strapped her into her booster chair before someone could run out and grab her. I was being ridiculous.

"Where's Jaime?" was the second thing that came out of Imani's mouth (the first had been "Titi Nina, do you want to see my sexy bathing suit?) I explained to her that Jaime had to work and that she'd see him next time which caused an instant pout on her part. I distracted her with music that made her shimmy in the backseat as I drove the ten miles to Dorney Park. My GPS guided me to the administrative office of the park instead of the main entrance. As I did loops, Imani made a point of telling me, "Titi, we've already been here." She's four and already a smartass... I love it.

After finding a parking spot, I lugged her and our bag of essentials to the park entrance. Once paying the entry fee I thought it would be best to have her give the bathroom a visit before heading to the wave pool. With incredible focus I watched Imani like a hawk watches a field mouse, scooped her up and rushed into the bathroom. Jumping in the first stall, we each did our business and all was well until I heard a man's voice.

At first I thought maybe the walls were thin. Maybe this guy's voice was really loud. Or, the not so great theory, maybe I was in the men's bathroom. I peered out the crack of the stall door and was quickly shown that my latter theory was the winner. The irony that I hadn't seen one male when I entered the wrong bathroom and now it was overly obvious as 3 men stood at urinals (which I hadn't seen either) and one man stood in the stall next to me. I turned such a deep red that I looked sun burnt and then started to giggle, which sent Imani into a fit of giggles and which was picked up on by the guy next to me who had figured out what was going on and giggled. I picked Imani up, told her to bury her face in my chest and ran full speed out of the bathroom and as far away from it as possible. When we were clear of the bathroom Imani was still laughing, and I was still embarrassed.

After that I vowed to relax and stop being so paranoid that I would lose the kid, or else I'd end up in a shark infested pool instead of the wave pool. The rest of the day went on without any serious injury, loses or tantrums. Imani asked for googles which she is wearing in this pic on the left, but then quickly tore them off saying they hurt. Kids.

After hours of water rides, and some kiddie attractions on land, I was pooped. Imani, on the other hand was ready to keep on. Either I'm getting really old or this kid's DNA is mixed with the Energizer Bunny. It's probably a mix of both. But after the day I had, I'm well aware that I'm still very much in favor of the child return policy (when they don't belong to you, you get to enjoy them and then clock out at the end of the day.)

One day I'll be ready for my own... I'm thinking 2018 maybe. For now I'll continue my visits with this adorable little girl and pay more attention to bathroom signs.

Midnight Ride with Tony Plana

2008-07-10T23:58:00.002-04:00

I'm convinced Grand Central Terminal (GCT) here in NYC is a place where parallel universes collide. Where there's a chance you'll run into an old friend from grammar school. Where a nun will walk along side a cross dresser. And where Tony Plana will zoom past you...

(Pictured left- Tony Plana aka Papa of Ugly Betty.. and he looked identical to this photo)

The shittiest thing for you to figure out when you enter GCT is that you either just missed your train or that you didn't just miss it but missed it by enough where you won't curse yourself for missing it, and yet become grumpy anyway knowing you have 30 minutes until the next one leaves the station. I was completely engulfed in the latter as I stomped towards my train whose doors were not yet open. The God awful heat of the train tunnel sent me into a U-turn back towards the main air-conditioned terminal. Upon the first swivel of my U-turn a man, walking alone, was coming towards me. Suddenly I found every need to stop walking and grab my cell phone out of my bag as if it were ringing (it clearly was not.) The man on his way to passing me was Mr. Plana. My first reaction: Figure out what train car he's going into. Second reaction: Question why he's taking a train.

I'd heard that Ugly Betty had begun shooting in NYC just recently and, just as recently, I had mentioned aloud to the wind that I wish I could happen upon the show's set. I don't watch much TV- a)I'm too busy to commit to something every week and b) I could care less for more than half the shit that's on the tube. However, there are 3 shows I try my best to stick with and UB is one of those few. It's my lighthearted, feel good, wittily (word?)-written, girl power show and Plana's character makes my heart melt. Too bad for me, Mr. Plana had done a U-turn himself and was now walking past me into the main terminal. Apparently we shared a deep disliking of sticky heat - what we're the odds!

I gave it a few beats and then followed him out of the tunnel and into the terminal, but in the process lost him. I wondered when I'd suddenly crossed into stalker mode, but the fact that I was already reciting how I would say hello proved I was already over the edge. Ten minutes later I was done indirectly looking for him and proceeded with my return to the train that would take me home. As I passed cars I side glanced into each wondering where he'd chosen to sit. Half way through I gave up and just entered the next car. Plopping down into an open seat, I dug my phone from my bag once more and when I looked up Plana was sitting two rows in front of me. His row was blocked out by a man sitting opposite of him so to go any closer would have made me look ridiculous (not that I didn't already seem that way to myself.)

And so we rode. Me glancing every now and then to see Plana clearly going over his next script. What I wouldn't give to grab that script and run! (to what? the next car?) To know how a UB script was laid out and to have insight into the future of my favorite characters would have been ultimate bliss. But, sad for me, fortunate for Plana, I never had my opportunity. When the train reached my stop, I grabbed my belongings and lingered near his seat. Were it not for the fact that me saying anything to him would instantly give off a clue to all those sitting around who he was and potentially ruin his late night ride home(?), I might have leaned in close and opened my mouth (to speak you freaky fools!) I could have sworn he glanced my way, less because I'm an astoundingly beautiful woman (I'm not) and more so because I was wearing this incredibly colorful dress that everyone seemed to be noticing today.

Ding Dong! This is the stop for blahblah the next stop is blahblahblah.

I exited the train, never saying what I wanted to, to Mr. Plana. So here it is: You're an awesome TV dad, you show too much heart to not actually be that way in real life, and I hope your show goes on forever!!! Oh... and yay for world peace!

Revolving Around My Weekends

2008-06-22T19:02:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time there was an idea...

Pablo: So I have this idea for a short film. It's about this guy...
Lauren: ...that you want Jaime to play?
Jaime:...who is a slacker that's called to do something bigger with his life.
Pablo: So once I cut the trailer...
Lauren: we'll come to realize that this isn't just a short...
Jaime:... it should be a webseries.

And so was born the demolisher of what was left of my free time. But I'm not complaining. Here's why...

Back when I was a wee little writer, my inspiration came from books written by R.L. Stine and later Dean Koontz. I was a sci-fi/fantasy/thriller lover until freshman year of college when suddenly it became easier to write about my own life in the version of chic lit rather than the imaginary stuff that took more brain power. As movies like "Harry Potter" and TV shows like "Heroes" made their way into popularity, I'd kick myself thinking that I could have written things of that caliber had I only tried harder. Instead, I had thrown all creative ambitions to the wind and settled with a job that paid me to do the other thing I was good at; managing someone else's life. So here, many years after I'd packed away previous manuscripts, I was given the chance to reinvent myself and my craft (can I even call it a craft if I haven't been fully successful yet?)

Pablo and Jaime spit out ideas while I worked diligently to string them all into something that... made sense. When the script was finalized and approved by all, Pablo went to work doing what he's good at (finding locations, setting up shot lists, etc. while Jaime and I ran lines. Sidebar-- to that point in time I hadn't seen Jaime act in anything where he wasn't a) a goofball, b) a maniac or c) gay. Gabriel, the character after which the title was named, is just a normal guy and as simple as that sounds, I feared it might be the hardest thing for Jaime to pull off. As we adjusted to the script (oh, and it's "we" because I would be acting opposite in him- this endeavor was triple fold), I became confident that this thing we were creating was in fact, good. And with that in mind, we went to work.

After a six hour shoot and some hours on the editing table with Pablo, this was the first run trailer.

LINKED - New Webseries - Trailer
Uploaded by LinkedTV

We blasted this trailer on our Myspace pages and through email blasts. The reply that resonated to each of us was the question "What happens next?" with a certain degree of urgency. We had an audience. An audience that wanted more than just a short film. And so became the idea of the webseries.

Off the bat we knew "Missing" for a title, wasn't going to work. Pablo and I were stuck on one word names and symbols. At first stuck on words revolving around "dream" or "missing", it wasn't until I sat through the movie "Iron Man" that I would come across the one word that blazed like a lighthouse beacon. It was a name. Simple and yet strong. I immediately texted Pablo who agreed as soon as he received the text. I took a deep breath. We had a name. Now, we just needed a storyline.

Over the course of the next month I would write and we would film, two more episodes introducing new characters and plot twists. The scripts flowed from my thoughts so easily that I was surprised I hadn't lost my knack for this kind of stuff. As we continue with this series, I will keep you informed of its progress. Once the first 3 episodes have been fully edited, we will begin release. In the mean time I'm hoping to land an exclusivity deal with one of my many social networking connections to make this project fully legit. But in the mean time, it's fun as all hell :)

Here are some on set photos:

Amanda Andujar (Angel), Jaime Fernandez (Gabriel) and Danny Rivera (Danny)

Pablo Diaz and moi

Me, Amanda, Jaime, Pablo and Jerry Diaz (Jason)

Let's Play Catchup

2008-06-18T22:59:00.000-04:00

The reason for this website/blog is to centralize the results of all my running around. I'm often asked, "So Lauren, what do you do?" with the asker thinking there's a simple answer. By far, there is not. How can I summarize?

I've been a writer for as long as I can remember. From fiction, to poetry and in more recent years, journalism. (This lovely artwork on the left is the actual makeshift book jacket for one of my novels created around the age of 11. I know, it's amazing I didn't become the next Rembrandt!) If I had to choose a "passion", writing would be it. Unfortunate for me, and the majority of writers in the world, it rarely makes you an incredible amount of money...unless of course you're writing the next tell-all novel about the secret sexcapades of so and so celebrity, and I'm sorry but my time (and attention span) doesn't allow for such. So since I can't make a living off that I....

Have a full time job working with great people... which I'll never talk about here, so in which case we'll move on to how I...

Jumped into the entertainment business as (at first) a model. Don't laugh, I'm not that hideous. Ever since I had broken out of my ugly duckling/ tomboy phase at the age of 16, people started telling me I had great skin, was pretty, photogenic, yada yada. At 21 I gave in and linked with a (then) amateur photographer named Nathan Blaney. Over the next 2 years, Nathan and I would develop a friendship and an awesome portfolio. I like to think that my begging of Nathan for extra shots helped catapult him into photography greatness... or maybe he's just totally great on his own. (Did I mention I'm full of myself? I'm so not!) With some awesome head and glamour shots on my plate, I started to contemplate next steps. There was something else I'd been harbouring since childhood... The inescapable want to be a star. Although I'd dabbled ever so lightly in improv during college, I had no formal evidence to conclude that I could act. I was going with a gut feeling based simply on the fact that I'm terribly convincing when I tell stories (some people call it lying, I call it "saying what's necessary for everyone's lives to stay happy"), and what is acting but telling someone else's story? So then I...

Had a talk with my friend Pablo a few years after we'd graduated from Rutgers together and he told me there was a script. A script he'd written and wanted to shoot. Said script only involved one actor...playing 5 different roles. Ok. I've never acted before and suddenly I'm a one woman show. A hustler who doesn't have time for bullshit. An annoyingly sweet housewife. A party 'til she drops, drunk. An irritated grad student. And the last character who has no clue what's going on (kind of like me in real life). It was a Sunday when we shot it, took about 6 hours and when it was all said and done, I felt sort of confident. Surprisingly so. It wouldn't be until months later when the short had been edited and released, that I would undergo a life changing experience which made my want to act fall quickly to the back area of my brain. My ambitions were fizzled and instead of embracing the positive reviews of my work, I would smile, say thanks, and just continue on an aimless road towards...blah. That was until...

A random blog I used to keep caught the eye of an Associate Editor at Rap-Up Magazine, who reached out to me via the ever so useful Myspace, and asked if I had any interest in music journalism. Sure, I could totally do that! ( I was bluffing, I'd never even tried at it.) And just like that I was given the opportunity for my first phone interview, a piece on Miss Issa. Sweet girl, haven't heard from or about her since. Oh well, wherever you are Miss Issa, thanks for helping me open the door! From that piece which was ripped apart by my editor (rightfully so!), I began to improve my journalistic skill and went on to interview the likes of Kia Shine, Zion, The Dey and even attended the Boost Mobile Rock Corps Concert in Radio City Music Hall where I met the boys from...

Bombin' Magazine. Completely by chance, I sat next to the Editor in Chief and Creative Director from the mag who happened to be totally cool, totally talkative and totally ready to bring me on board. At first it was all about connects, like how I could have a star-studded birthday party (with all the friends I'd made along the way) and have it dubbed as their extravaganza fully equipped with the tasty liqs of Trump vodka. But later, as the EIC suddenly realized, "HEY! This chic can write!" I was brought in as a contributor and given the chance to interview my good friend and mentor, Bobbito Garcia (turntable master with an extensive sneaker sense and even greater heart.) Pics from that interview will come in time. OK, here's a little sneak peek right up above.

As the writing assignments continued to come in, both from Rap-Up, Bombin' and then other publications like Latino University Magazine, I kept up my pen game on print. But, in the between time I started a blog on both SiTv.com and HuffingtonPost.com where I told the stories behind my interactions with stars like Zoe Saldana, Matthew Fox and The Dieting Mavens of Madison Avenue (ok so they aren't celebrities, but they are trying to look like them!), and my thoughts on Latinos in entertainment in general. And while I'm on the topic of Latinos in entertainment...

I might as well wrap this intro up with a story about where I've been spending the majority of my time since September '07 (while still toying with all the above.) That story would revolve around a comedy troupe called Room 28. What started as an adventurous evening at a house party within the confines of an apartment whose owner I hardly knew, would magically transform into a friendship and partnership with a group of multi-talented individuals that I may cherish for the rest of my life (unless of course one of them turns around and writes a tell-all book about moi!) On a random Sunday, I was invited to sit in on a day shoot for some sketch comedy skits. What I never would have imagined is how that one experience would be enough to convince me that with them is where I belonged. Furthermore, it would be the catalyst to boost my creativity, my management skills and my love life. It would be with them, spending endless weekend hours, that I would get a better glimpse at what I want from life, and how to make it work even if I have to spend the other 40 hours of my week making that thing people find necessary to survive (strange substance called money.) But what doesn't pay me, ignites my passion (creative passion! this isn't a bio for Nora Roberts!). And what's life without passion?

Keep reading,

Lauren