January 27, 2010 | 3:38 pm

Post-Traumatic Makeup Counter Disorder

Posted by Mihal Levy

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What is it with the carts in the mall that want me to try their dead sea products, hair-straightening irons and switch my cell phone provider over to theirs?  How come I can get their attention, but I am not worthy of the new fragrance spritz in the cosmetic section of a department store?  And why is it that I have to wait for almost twenty minutes at the Mac counter to pay for the eyeshadow that I chose myself and found boxed behind the register?  If I could just ring it up myself - i wouldnt need them at all in the first place. 

You would think I have other things to worry about.  Not that I truly do care in the first place…that much.  Why does it get me every time when I am ignored at the makeup counter? (Which is not often, since it is pretty rare that I go to one.)  I guess it could be worse - I could get stopped by the Proactive cart - acne care products endorsed by Jessica Simpson.

Usually when I hear someone speak of Mac, I think of the computers first and not a trendy makeup counter with sales personnel (both male and female) clad in all black with rainbow-hued eyelids.  When I think Mac, I think of rainbow colored iPods, not eyelids.  But i guess it does get to me now and again when I’m not worthy (or so they make me feel) of girly pleasures (not that Macs also known as Apple are un-girly, but I spend more time using my iPhone and MacBook, then the times I do shop for, put on and remove makeup altogether). 

The scary-looking-peacock-eyelid-goth salesgirl finally rang me up as if she were doing me a favor.  I didn’t need the eyeshadow thaaat bad.  I debated putting it back to spite her, but figured the other two I had at home were so old they probably wouldn’t look pretty under a microscope.

I can’t even remember the last time I bought makeup.  What I do remember, however, was that it was a traumatic experience.  I remember running over (not literally) to the mall for some tinted moisturizer.  You slap it on and go…literally (the perfect makeup regimen for me).  No need for all those layers that I read about in fashion and beauty magazines that tell me that for a natural look I need base, powder and all the stuff that goes on before it and after it.  Who has the time or patience?  Not I.  Anyway…back to the trauma of the tinted moisturizer….

I headed straight to the makeup counter with my son…once again helping myself, I headed directly to the boxed product on the shelf, grabbed one and waited at the register to pay.  The next thing I know, I was sitting on a stool by the makeup counter with an impatient son (for good reason), getting a tinted moisturizer color check.  (How she talked me into it, I will never know?  I thought that if I caved, maybe it would send a message to all other makeup counters everywhere to stop ignoring me.  (As you can see from the Mac eyeshadow purchase, it didn’t help.)  So, I sat on the stool and told her it was ok, and that I know that color works for me because I have used it for years.  (I’m not big on makeup…or change.)  Next thing I know she is using a cotton swab that reeks of lavender to remove the makeup I am already wearing, but I wasn’t wearing any.  To make matters worse, I am allergic to lavender.  I stopped her and jumped off the stool hoping that my cheek wouldn’t swell into the size of a bowling ball.  She still went down her list of recommendations for me.  I told her I just needed to pay and probably take a Benadryl or two.  She wasn’t happy, but my son was.  I would have been happier if my cheek didn’t start to swell.  (Two Benadryls later - I was fine.)

Then there was another time that I tried getting a “makeover” at the Mac counter to surprise my husband.  When he took one look at the “new me,” he laughed which was appropriate since I looked like a clown (clowns scare me, but they make him laugh).

I can’t seem to win.  I guess I am not lucky when it comes to makeup counters and it is probably even better that they won’t help me. 

So maybe it’s best that I avoid makeup counters all together in the near future, or at least until they have self-checkout lines like the ones in the grocery store…until then I will just be hanging out at the other Mac store.

January 25, 2010 | 4:01 pm

From Red To Blue To Green - Go Green Expo

Posted by Mihal Levy

After going from the Red Line to the Blue Line and sharing a ride with the ever so eclectic group of people (not my two friends that I had gone with, but the avid subway book enthusiast, the usual tourists, those bordering on homeless or just plain dirty, young iPod-listening teen skateboarders and a few mid-valley families heading down for an adventure - probably never even planning on leaving the subway), I finally made it to the Go Green Expo at the Los Angeles Convention Center this past weekend.

When I got there, I was shocked and intrigued at the even more eclectic group of people waiting in line for press passes, finding out soon after that they were auditioning for America’s Got Talent at the same time the Green Expo was going on upstairs, along with at least three other Expos I noticed right away.  (I wonder if they have Expos on Expos.)  After I got my pass (to the Expo, not America’s Got Talent, although that may have been more exciting with a chance to meet the Hoff), I headed in.

I have to say I was hoping the expo was bigger than it actually was.  But perhaps this was due to the fact that as a whole we were already green or going green and did not need to be reminded from an expo.  Maybe it was because I, along with everyone else I know, already shop at Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s to begin with (as a Vegetarian) and that is where most of the products that were on display were being sold.  Maybe it is just the fact that almost everyone I know shops there because they are Vegetarians to begin with or I just happen to hang out with people that have some sort of dairy, gluten, high fructose corn syrup, processed sugar or nut allergy or aversion.  In any case, I expected a little bit more.  (Just like a woman, right?)

Booths were filled with food, clothing, home-improvement, knick-knack and organization vendors.  I even saw a booth for corrective surgeries.  I wanted to stop and ask how they were eco-friendly.  Was the silicone they used BPA free or was their botox non-toxic?  I really wanted to know, but the vegan chocolate booth was calling. 

They even had an AstroTurf company there to present the possibility of saving water (hope they didn’t read one of my past stories where I refuse to save water due to my long shower obsession).  Apparently, it was excellent quality Astro Turf, as one of the friends that came with me rubbed his face across it and exclaimed, “it’s niiiiice!” 

I passed by the Chai Cola both, although I like Chai and Cola (just not together, reminds me of Laverne from Laverne and Shirley with her favorite mix of milk and Pepsi…almost).  My two partners in crime (and fellow writers) were brave enough to try a sample.  The verdict was “medicinal” by one and “pretty good” by the other.  I am not sure who to believe, though, as “pretty good” was by the same person who thought the AstroTurf was “niiiiiice.”

We headed on to the “Kids Zone,” where I was hoping to find a lot of mommy material.  With less than ten booths, I was a little disappointed that there weren’t more mom and kid-type ideas.  But again was hoping this was due to the fact that things have gone mainstream and did not need an introduction.  There were glass baby bottles (which I used for my son when he was little), hemp clothing, recycled pencils and journals, and the Holistic Moms Network to name a few.

There were also bikini-clad women walking around to spread the message about going green.  I am not sure what their message was exactly, but know that it came through loud and clear by the reaction of the observers.

I spent most of my time at the recycled journals and the Holistic Moms Network booths.  To me, these two stood out.  1) Journals - because I can’t have enough of them for all my writing and 2) Holistic Moms Network because they were very nice (not like the UNholistic moms at the park I usually run into) and we shared many of the same beliefs.

The O’Bon journals stood out for me (www.obon.us).  They are made from sugarcane.  They use the pulp left over after the juices have been extracted to create paper.  (This way I feel good that I can save trees, since I don’t save water.)  They were all unique, I had a hard time choosing and probably drove the guy nuts when I had a hard time choosing.  (And the questions I was asking him probably did not help either.)  I asked if the pages were edible or could be inserted into a cup of coffee to add sweetness.  That was the one drawback - you could write on the sugar cane paper, but couldn’t eat it.

I enjoyed spending time at the Holistic Moms Network (www.holisticmoms.org).  The moms that were there were all great.  I found out more information about Holistic Moms Network and plan on joining.  It was great to meet moms with similar beliefs for a change.  Like potty training, for one: that it can and should be done during or right after the child’s first year, with evidence to prove this.  (My son was potty trained right around the time he was a year and a half, so I just missed the mark.)  I just don’t understand the concept of toddlers running around in dirty diapers with almost adult-sized excrements (sorry for the visual) or saggy-droopy diapers that moms leave on for hours.  (It makes me sad, really.)  I know I would not want to be walking around in one, so I made it a point to keep my son clean as well.  So this was a first, because most moms I talk to looooooove the convenience of diapers.  I always thought they were INconvenient…and smelly (of course after my son was old enough to do more than laying around).  I also like the moms that say they will potty train when “they are ready,” referring to their child, when it really has more to do with them.  Are you waiting for a signal like, “I’m ready mom.  Even though dirty diapers are all I’ve ever known, especially the ones that have been on for hours for your convenience, I am ready to experience a clean bottom.”  Is it the child that is not ready, or you?  But, I digress.  So the Holistic Moms and I bonded instantly over poop, discipline and best alternatives to dairy cheeses.  (Doesn’t that make for lasting friendships?)

Overall, I have to say I enjoyed the Go Green Expo.  But I think it was the great people I met (and went with) that made it worthwhile, rather than any new product that really stood out.  So thank you to the great moms I met, vendors and Chai Cola-sampling friends that joined me.  You made the interesting train ride worthwhile…and the over-priced Convention Center sushi did not hurt either.

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January 22, 2010 | 3:00 pm

Glee Audition Part II: Call Back

Posted by Mihal Levy

The Glee audition saga continues.  Wait, I have to submit a tape first before I actually get the audition.  Can we jump ahead to the Call Back?

If you read my recent story - “Glee Audition,” then read on.  If you haven’t yet, then let me catch you up to speed.

I am auditioning for Glee, blah blah blah, I was in many high school musicals.  (Note- musicals while in high school, not THE High School Musical, but it seems more impressive without this note, so scratch that.)  Even though high school was a while ago, I am still just as talented as I was back then, just slightly older and wiser, maybe even taller.  (OK, I exaggerate a little - I am probably the exact same height I was back then.)

So my saga continues.  The response has been great and overwhelming after my first Glee posting; with responses from my husband, my son (who is three and a half) and a friend or two.  (Hey, Rome was not built in a day - although when I was there it sure looked like it had been.  They couldn’t even rebuild the colliseum?  If it were Los Angeles that would have been a strip mall and later a Westfield mall.  Romans.)

Back to Glee.  I received emails, tweets, facebook messages and weird glances on the street after my story, (but don’t think the latter had to do with my story), by people cheering me on and giving me pointers for my audition and how to get in touch with the producers (who by the way, still have not called).  So, I thank you BOTH for all your great tweets, and emails etc.  (There might’ve been more than two, but I don’t remember exact numbers at this very moment.)

One out of the two that contacted me (they are both sisters, by the way) suggested a link with valuable tips for my audition tape (that I did not know I needed until then).  So, thank you!  The site is www.gleefan.com.  I wanted to make sure my audition video was up to par by Gleek standards, so I checked it out and now I am sharing.

Gleefan.com suggest 10 simple tips for the Glee Audition:
1) If you can’t sing, don’t bother.
Ok, of course I can sing.  Who can’t?  How do you think I get by with my renditions of childrens’ songs for my son.  I am not whistling them.  Especially, “Clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere.  Clean up, Clean up.  Everybody do your share” is sung on a daily basis.  Multiple times a day, in fact.  If practice makes perfect, well then I guess it is safe to say that I am…you guessed it - PERFECT.

2) Put your best food forward.  Get a good amount of sleep the night before and spend a bit of time in front of the mirror.
Ok, this one is a little tricky for me and not quite as simple as the first one.  Is a good night’s sleep a pre-requisite?  I am usually up all hours of the night; writing, singing (slipped that one in), cleaning or ruminating about writing, singing, and cleaning and everything else I should be doing.  ANd if I am not up and get to bed at a decent hour, my son makes sure to keep me from having a full eight hours or twleve that I relaly need, by ensuring that those are the nights he has nightmares, needs water or just wants to sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s bed (where we end up sleeping on the floor, as he sleeps diagonally, allowing us no room.  I take blame for that, though.  I should have bought a king sized mattress for the King in the first place.)  I am also the kind of person who runs past mirrors.  (I wish I was more like one of my facebook friends who loves posting pictures of herself in skanky positions and outfits just to show off her protruding chest area.  If I had that

self-arrogance

self-confidence, I would be on Glee by now or actually Hustler magazine, according to her standards.) 

3) Pick a song that shows off your vocal range/ability.
How do I choose just one?  It ranges from the theme song to Dora The Explorer to O Mio Babbino Caro from my classical training in college (along with my psychology training, TV and Film classes and time spent as a little sister for a Jewish fraternity.)

4) Don’t Auto-Tune your audition tape.
I know that.  They will “clean it up” when it goes on air.  Duh.

5) Be age releveant.  (Age relevant is spelled wrong on their site, I wanted to leave it for authenticity.)
I do not look my age and often I am asked “You’re a mother?”  (But maybe that is because of the way I act and not what I actually look like - I never asked.)  Also, my son says, “Daddy’s a man.  Mommy is a firl lady, because you are a girl really.”  Sp, take it from a three-and-a-half year old - I am a “girl lady.”

6) Rehearse your audition.
What if one needs no rehearsal.  (OK, now I am taking on my Facebook-Hustler-Wannabee friend’s persona (see #2)  I have been rehearsing all my life for this.  Is that good enough, now it is time to perform.

7)  Be confident. 
(See #6)

8) Don’t be trashy.
(Seriously, these are the Gleefan tips.  I am not making them up.)
Glee is definitely not for my Hustler Facebook friend.  Phew, now I am finally glad I am not her.

9) Be informed.
That is why I am waiting for my call from the producers.  Won’t they inform me then?

10) Read the audition requirements VERY carefully.  (Very is capitalized on their site.)
I will - just let me audition and hand over whatever documents/waivers you want me to read and sign.  I’m easy.  (Not in the way you are thinking or the way my Facebook Hustler…yeah yeah, you get the point.)

Guess I will have to make the tape now or just wait for a personal call.  I will wait…just a little bit more and definitely keep you posted. 

I would say wish me luck, but that is not good luck.  Break a leg?  I don’t like the way that sounds.  An old friend from college’s older brother would say - “it is not about luck, it is about skill, so good skill!”
Good skill?  I would like to think that is what it takes to make it.

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January 21, 2010 | 2:00 pm

Graco Strollers; Losing Fingers Not Sleep

Posted by Mihal Levy

I love my Graco stroller, or loved it, rather. 

Although I don’t use my stroller much anymore (ever tried wrangling a three-and-a-half-year-old into a stroller that he says is “for babies”), I was proud to have one that has lasted until now since my son was born (minus the replacement they sent out when the back suddenly fell out of it.  My son wasn’t in it at the time, luckily - they said it was “just a fluke”).  I was proud to say that I am the proud owner of a sturdy, rugged, comfortable, lightweight, good for even long naps (for my son, not me) horse of a stroller, with probably the biggest basket in town to hold groceries, mall shopping, extra baggage and even a spare tire for my car, not the stroller. 

I was happy to say I think I made the best decision in only having one stroller, while my friends’ owned various strollers for various occasions; one for weekends, weekdays, jogs, strolls, shopping, terrain, summer, spring, fall or to match the color of their key chakra that day.  They had twelve, I had ONE and the best one at that.  (They could also afford twelve, but that is another story.)  So, my nifty Graco, I am proud to say, has joined me on my journey through malls, on airplanes, outings, jogs, walks and skipping (they need to come up with a good stroller for skipping).  It even held up under the countless bags of groceries and other things strewn on it in the trunk of my car (even my husband’s guitar amp - ouch).

I was a proud owner until today.

It was announced on Wednesday (I found out today) that Graco strollers are being recalled because of fingertip amputations.  (Oh, nothing major.)  (There are nine more where that came from.)  And only about 1.5 million strollers are probably affected.  (Not a chance that mine is one of them?) The accidents can occur due to an uncovered hinge on the canopy.  The Associated Press reported seven accidents this far.  It was reported that five children had their fingertips severed, while two others received lacerations.

The recall is being made by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission along with Graco.  (They will send out a do-it-yourself repair kit, not a replacement.) The affected strollers include the Graco Passage, Alano, Spree Strollers and Travel Systems, as well.

So, if you are like me and thought that you made the best decision, think again.  My stroller has been recalled.  Should’ve bought a Bugaboo and had my personal assistant (yet to be hired…but one can dream) carry my things, instead of relying on a big Graco basket.  (Barbie and Jennie were right on.  See previous post.)

If you purchased your Graco between October 2004 and February 2008, check below to make sure your stroller is not on the list.

Check yours against the models below.  Good luck. (*Model number is located on the lower inside portion of the rear frame above the rear wheels).:
6303MYC, 6303MYC3, 6320IVY, 6320LAU, 6330CAP, 6330THR, 6330THR3, 6F00QIN3, 6F00RRY3, 6F03GLN3, 6G10CSE3, 7235GGA, 7235GGA2, 7236CDR2, 7237HOL2, 7237HOL3, 7240DNB, 7240DNB2, 7240MKL2, 7240MKL3, 7241DDH2, 7241DHO3, 7255CLP, 7255CLP2, 7255CRA2, 7255CRA3, 7255CSA3, 7255GPK3, 7255GRN, 7255GRN2, 7255JJB3, 7255ORC2, 7255WLO2, 7255WLO3, 7256CLO2, 7256SPM2, 7256SPM3, 7260BAN, 7260BAN2, 7260BAN3, 7260MRA2, 7260MRA3, 7260PKR, 7260PKR2, 7270BIA, 7270BIA2, 7E01JON2, 7E01JON3, 7F00LPE3, 7F00RSH3, 7F01FOR3, 7F02GLM3, 7F04TAY3, 7F07EMA3, 7F08DSW3, 7F08LAN3, 7G00DLS3, 7G00DLS4, 7G01CRL3, 7G04KRA3, 7G05GPR3, 7G06WSR3

*Info taken from associatedcontent.com

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January 20, 2010 | 3:00 pm

Conserve Water?  Who Cares?

Posted by Mihal Levy

It’s been raining in L.A. for the past few days and I’m glad because I can feel less guilty when I say I don’t believe in conserving water.  Don’t get me wrong - I do believe in conserving water as a whole, but I don’t think that I should necessarily be a part of it.

Let me explain.  I can’t cut down my showers.  I mean, isn’t forty-five minutes to half a day in the shower conserving enough?  It could be worse - I could take day-long showers.  Get my point?  No?

The one place I can run away to and call my own is the shower.  No dishes, no laundry to fold, no cleaning (minus the times I clean the shower while I’m in there, might as well).  It is the one place I can milk “me” time because I have to indeed shower every day, unless I move to Italy - I loved it when I was there - the lack of showers not so much, however.  But Italian moms have midday siestas, Tiramisu and Limoncello for escape.  In America - we have showers and sad excuses for coffee like Coffee Bean - which Italians laugh at, by the way.  Good thing I don’t do coffee anyway - if I would, it would be in Italy.  But I’m getting off-topic here.

Showers.  I’ve started taking two a day, morning and night: 1) to help me wake up; and 2) to help me go to sleep.  Sometimes I even need a third one to help me make it through the afternoon (that’s my siesta).

I love the shower, but not baths - I’ve thought about it - something about soaking in a tub makes me feel like a chicken in chicken soup.  Plus, the water gets cool in no time too.  Who has time for that anyway?  Besides, I can’t sit still long enough, and the thought of soaking in dirty bath water doesn’t do it for me (hence my avoidance of public jacuzzis, which equal bubbly warm public baths with strangers, foot fungus and God knows what other fine germs are lurking in there.  Add a little chlorine, and voilà!  It should be fine for some - not me).  So you see, showers are my only answer.  And if I’m lucky, I get to shower with the bathroom door closed and not have to call after my son to make sure he’s okay in the other room.

The shower is where creativity often strikes - there’s something about warm water and over-perfumed Israeli liquid soaps that slough off the top layer of skin or turn it into sandpaper (much like Israeli blue toilet paper - if you’ve ever tried it, you know what I’m talking about, and if you haven’t, I’ll spare you the details).

Most of my writing ideas come to me in the shower (a fine place for that since I haven’t found a way to waterproof my laptop).  I did discover bath markers - they work well as shower markers.  My son was ecstatic when he thought I bought them for him, but soon after realized they were mommy’s (okay, but I do share, though).  When I shower, it looks like a bunch of illiterate graffiti artists have attacked my bathroom with dripping signs in bright red, blue, orange and green.  When my shower is over, I rush to jot my ideas on paper.  By the time I return with a pen and notepad in hand, the idea ridden walls turn into a blob.  Most of the ideas have disintegrated or run so much that I can hardly read them anyway.  So if my blogs often don’t make sense, blame it on my markers, not me.

Not only do I spend my time writing, thinking and washing of course (I’ll spare you those details), I also spend my time relaxing in the shower.  Yes, relaxing and stealing just five more minutes of alone time before I jump back into the rat race.  You see?  Why would I ever want to shorten my showers?  How could I?  I just try to make up for it in other ways.  Not drinking water, for one.

So I hope you will forgive me for not doing my part, but trust that I have no other choice.  And if that is one of the few places creativity strikes, how can I avoid it?  Too bad it doesn’t strike when I’m doing the dishes or laundry, because then I’d spend more time doing those things rather than showering…but you never know.  I’ll keep you posted.

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January 19, 2010 | 3:30 pm

Mom’s Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’

Posted by Mihal Levy

I was in the bookstore the other day and overheard two moms talking while their less-than-one-year-old girls slept in their cushy Bugaboos.  (Okay, I overheard the beginning of their conversation, but made it a point to stick around, of course pretending to give a care about the new issue of Real Simple I was holding.  Sometimes organizing tips just have to take a backseat to juicy gossip.)

The mothers appeared to be in their forties.  One mom clearly had her lips and eyes done, apparently not long after giving birth, it seems.  They were both well-dressed, well-manicured and well…just all around well for new mothers.  I started to imagine how these two met.  Wives of CEO’s Club, temple sisterhood, or friends since childhood, even planning their births at the same time, apparently…and the gender of their child (or did they meet at a mothers of one-year-old girls group?)  Nonetheless, they looked as though they had it together, until…

The first mom, a blonde who resembled Jennie Garth (but no, was not her), picked up a book and handed it to the second mom, who was basically a Barbie doll with red hair (do they make those?). The book Jennie handed Barbie was a trashy romance novel with a photo of Fabio embracing a woman with a tattered red dress, drenched and soaking wet from the waves crashing over them at the beach, the sun setting in the background; they stare at each other as if in pain or moments before their death.  (Not sure what the title was, but must have been something like “Into the Sunset”  or “Waves of Forever.”)  What struck me first was their choice of novels.  I expected something a little more profound, perhaps.  (I guess I am just always shocked when women are attracted to “those” books.)  But what struck me even more was the conversation they were having.  I glued my nose to my magazine and tried to flip the pages rhythmically, so they would not catch on that I was more interested in their conversation than learning how to organize my home.  (Shame on me…bad mom!)

Jennie started,  “You should read this one.  I loved this one.  I love any of these romance novels, they are filled with so much sex.  And we all know that is something I haven’t had in almost years.”  (Well, we didn’t ALL know, until you said it out loud at Barnes and Noble.  And I think it is quite obvious that was more like a year ago from the looks of that little one in the Bugaboo….I wanted to chime in, but didn’t.)

Barbie chimed in, “Tell me about it.  But do you HATE your husband?  Because I do.  I would much rather get lost in a romance book then even think about sex with him, let alone doing it.”  Then they both laughed.
Was this some kind of joke?  I wasn’t laughing.

Jennie continued, “It doesn’t turn out the way you hoped it would.  My husband is just so boring.  Thank God for those vampire films too.  Now those are men!”
I couldn’t help myself at this point and really wanted to butt in and say “No, those are boys.”  But, I felt this was my cue to grab my how-to-organize-your-home magazine, a cup of tea and begin to blog.

This was not the first time I heard moms talk about sexless marriages.  The other time was when I heard about Twilight Moms, who used the films to spice up their sex lives.  There was also another time that a good friend of mine took me to her weekly creative friends circle, where moms sat around, painted, sipped wine and bad-mouthed their husbands.  I lasted all of ten minutes at the creative circle; I painted, drank wine, but did not have any juicy gossip on how sad my life was or what a horrible husband I have, so I left.

I have even known couples who are married and have separate bedrooms and even separate homes in separate states.  I don’t think there is anything wrong with that at all, but why be married in the first place?  Is it the money that is so appealing to these women?  From first glance, it did not seem that money was an issue for Jennie and Barbie.  But they did prove that money can’t buy love, even though it can buy new lips.  They had the bags removed from their eyes, but Coach bags added to their Bugaboos.  Not sure I would have made the same decision, I’m just sayin’.

For me, the answer seems quite simple; if it is broken, get a new one.  If you don’t like it, then leave.  Why are these women staying in these marriages?  And why are they bad-mouthing their husbands in public?  And why, why would they ever give up on love or sex?  For expensive Bugaboos and facelifts?  Is it worth the sacrifice?  I would rather have my eyes sag and my lips shrivel than my love life.  Is it just me?

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January 18, 2010 | 3:30 pm

In Between

Posted by Mihal Levy

I am starting to believe it is the in-betweens that count.  It is in-between when moms get it all done. 

The in-betweens are what it is all about.  Those moment, hours, days or years where you are waiting for that “magical” thing to happen or just waiting in general.  It may even be the few minutes you grab while sitting in the car outside of grandma’s house stealing a few more moments for yourself before you pick up your son.  Or the drive back from Disneyland (which never happened) in a tow truck with your son that he enjoyed more than actually wanting to go to Disneyland.

If you are married, it is the in-between moments from adventure to adventure that make the ride worthwhile, like waiting for my car that has been in the shop for days.  Now I have to carpool and spend more time with my husband while we wait and run errands together.  Usually we are both off in their own cars, but the in-between time has actually been great and made me realize just how rushed we usually are.

If you are single, embrace the in-between time from date to date or relationship to relationship, no matter how uncomfortable or lonely you may feel.  Enjoy the time because before you know it, you will be on another bad date or good date and back to the in-between again, reflecting or ruminating on what just happened.

Even while waiting for a call from the producers of Glee for an audition (see previous post), though chances are slim…okay, not just slim, but anorexic; the mere fact that it could happen (when donkeys fly) is exciting and it is the anticipatory feeling in the in-between that should make it all more exciting.

It is also the in-betweens that we take for granted.  Sometimes the in-betweens are not so clear cut or pretty; transitions, changes etc.  The in-between can be filled with anticipation, anxiety, even pain or sadness, but remember, it is just in-between.

Enjoy the in-between no matter where you are headed, because you won’t even know until you get there.  Enjoy the in-between - I know I am while I wait for my audition call from Glee (okay, I slipped it in again).

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January 13, 2010 | 2:35 pm

Glee Audition

Posted by Mihal Levy

Dear Mr. Brennan, Mr. Falchuk and Mr. Murphy (or anyone who knows them or is related to someone who knows them who can introduce me to them),

I was going to write about auditioning for Glee before I even heard about the open call for auditions for next season.  So you can imagine how excited I was to hear that you will actually be holding auditions.  I have a great idea that I wanted to run by you (not that your ideas are not great, please don’t get me wrong).  Here is my idea: How about hiring me for a role on Glee, or at least an audition?  (You didn’t see that one coming, did you?)

Ok, I know what you are thinking: why me?  Well, let me tell you.  (First, let me think about it for a bit.)  I guess being a fan of the show doesn’t cut it.  (I even drudged up an old headshot of mine for your review - doesn’t everyone who lives in L.A. have one on file?  It’s not thaaaaat old, by the way.)  So, here are the top ten reasons I came up with why I should be on Glee.

1)  I met many members of the cast on a few occasions and we got along.  (That’s a plus, right?) 
2)  I have a background in musical theater - off-Broadway, of course…way off, in fact.  Let’s just say more to the west…way west - California.  Which is where I performed in high school.  (My high school drama teacher is a Facebook friend, so she can confirm the fact.  I am sure she remembers me…vaguely.  High school was a while ago…but not too long ago.)
3)  I can sing.  (Ask my three-year-old son.)  You should hear me in the car.
4)  I have been told that I look like I could be Lea Michele’s younger sister, even though I am older (hint-new character).  This is probably because I am a member of the tribe.  We all look alike, don’t we? 
5)  I studied music and sang throughout college as well (but got my degree in psychology.  Maybe I shouldn’t mention that last part…so, scratch that.)
6)  Please change the open call age limit from 26 years old and add just a few years.  I know you probably hear it all the time, but I don’t look my age…or better yet, even act my age.  (Just a side note - Stockard Channing was 32 when she played Rizzo in Grease.)
7)  I have a sense of humor, or don’t (depending on what you are looking for.)
8)  I work well with children and animals…and adults and producers and actors and directors and…you get the point. 
9)  I don’t require special perks on my rider.
10) And if I am a little off-key, there is always Auto-Tune.

And I know the drill, “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”  So I won’t be calling you (because that would just be stalking at this point), but I will wait for your call or email or text message or IM or Facebook request or Twitter direct message…

By the way, I even have my audition mashup ready to go: Bette Midler’s “The Rose” and Depeche Mode’s “Blasphemous Rumors.”

Yours Truly,

Jew Mama, a.k.a. Mihal Levy

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