A Walk Down Memory Lane (Or...How Do I Know This Person?)

Before we moved to New York, I did a major purge of lots of my worldly possessions.  The local thrift stores didn't know what hit them.  I brought them kitchen appliances, fringed lamps, shoes that made my feet cry, artwork purchased after enjoying too many glasses of wine...you name it, they got it.

And it felt GOOD.  Not just to get rid of that stuff that was weighing me down, but also to revisit how each of those things ended up in my life to begin with.  Did I choose it, or was it thrust upon me?  How long had I been carting it from place to place?  Did it fit me any longer?

I recently had to transfer contacts from my old phone to my new one, and as I went through the list of names, the feeling is surprisingly similar to when I cleared out my house.  It was a trip down Memory Lane, or in some cases, a trip down Where the Hell am I Road.

Because I'm a giver, I thought it'd be fun to share with you some of the actual entries from my old phone that didn't make the cut.  Here we go!

Nas-  I wrote a lengthy explanation of who this is, but then I realized my mother would have a heart attack when she read it (even though it was REALLY funny.)  All I will say is that Kathy Gambrell knows who this is, and we met him at Hush.

Deadbeats with Dogs-  Exactly as it sounds.  Losers who lived around the corner from me, who let their two dogs run loose in the neighborhood, and didn't seem to care when concerned citizens tried to scoop them up and take them back.  Total losers.

Eddie- This appears to be a New Orleans number, which means two things.  I was probably with my Aunt Carla, and we were likely at a bar.  Aside from that, I have no clue.

North South TV- When I first moved to NYC, I was on a fashion-centered reality TV show.  What, you didn't hear about it?  That was my plan.  I told virtually no one, for good reason.  These folks produced it.

Subfinder- Sweet, sweet Subfinder.  You saved me many a morning when I was too ill to teach school.  I almost had your number memorized, I loved you so dearly.  Alas, my teaching days are on hold, and by the time I come back to it (if ever) there will probably be some sort of mind-reading system that not only finds a substitute teacher for you, but also can tell if you're faking.

Dispatch- This was the number for the cops in my old neighborhood in SC.  I programmed it in my phone after someone left threatening porn on my doorstep, and tried to break in to my laundry room.  (Yes, I said PORN, and yes, it can be threatening, believe me.)  New York is a million times safer than my old neighborhood.

Blue Ribbon Cab- New York friends, back in SC you have to make a phone call for a cab to come pick you up, and then you wait for it.  If you tried to flag one down in SC, the driver would probably just wave back.

There are lots of other names in there, people I fondly remember, but haven't spoken to in years.  I let a lot of them go, relying on Facebook in the event I need to reconnect with them.  Looking at the list of entires, I see how far I've come, how much has changed, and how much I've learned.  My life is awesome, and all these entries played a little part in getting me here now.

Maybe not Nas, or Eddie, but you get the idea.

Viewer Mail

Adoring fans,

You've no idea how meaningful your cards, emails, and mysterious packages have been to me during this busy time.  I'd like to take a few minutes to personally address some of the mail I've received while this blog has been on hiatus, and hope that my personal responses will give you insight into who Monica really is- and in the case of IMWTCHNGU666, put an end to the doorstep poetry you seem so intent on leaving for me.

Let's dig into the mail bag, shall we?

Kippy from Toledo asks, "Although I live in Ohio and have never even heard of you, how do you learn all those lines?"
--Oh, Kippy.  If I had a nickel for every time I've been asked that question...I'd throw those nickels at your head one at a time until you asked a better question.  Next!

Mildred from Hell Hole Swamp asks, "Will you please come help me move?  I live in Hell Hole Swamp."
--Mildred, even though I feel your pain and fully understand how traumatic it must be to live in such a place, I am a professional actor, and do not help people move.  Unless, of course, it is to a fabulous country home with a guest room I might use later.  And only if there is pizza.  Sorry.


ParisMtScout asks, "I understand you've recently completed filming a major role in a new independent feature film.  Which do you prefer, acting in handcrafted films such as GET BETTER, or being in dumb plays?"
--I know this is you, Chris White.  I had a great time working on your film.  Now, please let other people ask some real questions.


Cindy Lou Who from Whoville asks, "If you could play any historical figure, who would it be, and why?"
--Finally, a real question!  Cindy Lou, I am particularly drawn to the stories of those less fortunate than myself- those who endure hardships beyond our wildest imaginations.  Those who battle the forces of evil and strive for goodness in this cruel, cruel, world.  I think the choice here is obvious- I would play Cindy Lou Who from Whoville, who battles the Grinch and saves Christmas.


"Wait.  That's me."
--Next question.


"And I'm four years old.  You're ten times my age."
--You LIE!


"I'm not a real person.  I said 'historical figure.'"
--Is there a breeze in here?


Ann from Cedar Mountain asks, "Why don't you get on one of those TV shows I watch?  Just call them and tell them you'd like to be on there- tell them you were on 'Army Wives.'  And are you eating well?  You need to keep your strength up- you get sick when you do too much, you know that.  And don't forget, Tommy's birthday is coming up."
--MOM, I will call you later.  


Kim K. from NYC asks, "I've got a beautiful wedding dress that I no longer need.  Could you use it in your next project?  And I wore it because I was REALLY in love.  And please come to my purse signing at Daffy's in Herald Square at 4pm."
--Kim, I actually COULD use your dress for an upcoming project.  My husband, playwright Dean Poynor, is writing a play that features wedding dresses very prominently.  Where can I come pick it up?


You can come to where I work.  It's on television.
--But where, exactly?


TV is everywhere.  
--But where do you work, so I can pick up the dress?


I'm on TV.


Looks like we're out of time.  Thank you all for your messages of encouragement- I will do my best to answer each and every one during my time here in Myrtle Beach.  And please, come see A CHRISTMAS STORY at Atlantic Stage, running December 2-18th.

Ooh!  A new message just came in!  Let's see what it says...

Dean from NYC asks, "Honey, where is the lint roller?  And I miss you."
--It's in the pet basket, and I miss you, too. :)