In da hood

I just got back from the gym. And I don't mean, "30 minutes on the treadmill, watching TV." I mean personal trainer gym. Personal Trainer at the Gym After Being Gone for One Month. I found myself apologizing to my trainer for being gone for so long, but really, I'm apologizing to myself. What does he care if I've been M.I.A. for a month? He's still getting paid. And I'm the one who's paying...in sweat, just like Debbie Allen in Fame.

The New York Marathon is fast approaching (November 7th, I think), and I'm considering signing up. I figure if I start walking now, I'll cross the finish line by then, and I won't even have to sneak a ride on the subway.

The neighborhood is bustling with people wearing scarves and cardigans lately, as the weather is cooling off a bit. Even Michael Douglas was wearing a puffy coat as he walked is daughter to school the other morning. Seeing them as I walked Hank was really neat. Neat because he lives a few doors down from us, and he's looking great for someone who has been so ill. Neat because it's clear he loves his daughter a whole bunch. Neat because they both looked at Hank as we walked past them, putting us one step closer to my not-so-secret dream of Catherine Zeta Jones petting Hank on our walk one day.

But seeing them also made me feel bad. Bad about myself. Bad that I was really no better than the horde of paparazzi that waits outside his apartment every school day to snap shots of this father-daughter ritual. I knew he'd be out there, and I wanted to see him in person. And you know, he's just a man. He's someone's father and husband, and he gets sick and gets better and goes to work and wears baseball caps, just like my dad. So, I feel like I invaded his privacy by taking that route the other morning, and I doubt I'll do it again. Leave 'em alone. Let the man walk his little girl to school. And let's hope he gets real better real soon.

Week Two of the Estrogenius Festival closed this weekend, and I made lots of new, cool friends. It can be hard to meet people here, if you're not in a class or show, or you don't work in a place with other people. The dog park is a great place to make friends, in case you're looking. (Granted, Hank may say otherwise- he's not so into making new friends at the dog park. He'd rather smell and drool and feel the breeze on his face, than have another dog sniff his privates.) I've met teachers, actors, retired people, and the other day, I met a cool couple who run a program called The Bully Project. Their aim is to end dogfighting in NYC by getting dog owners (mostly kids) to compete their pit bulls in other ways- agility courses, weight pull contests and the like. Teaching the dog owners other ways to love and train their pets. Check out what they do- they're really neat people with big hearts.

Today, I am going to ride the bus. To nowhere. Just around. In my next project, I play a woman who found a stack of money on the bus one time, and rides the bus all day, waiting for it to happen again. So, I'm gonna do some research before rehearsal today. I'm so glad I'm not playing a proctologist. Or a butcher.

Alright! I'm hitting the park with Hank. He is pestering me to publish his blog, by the way. He's got lots of entries stacking up, and just needs to find a catchy title before he launches it. Your suggestions are most welcome.

And if we see Michael Douglas, we will walk the other way. :)