lornagrl:::

Jobby Wine and Liquor - Burned

A few nights ago I noticed that there was a big fire off of Church Avenue in Kensington but I didn't stop to look. I guess I've been a little self absorbed lately.  But this morning I noticed that Jobby Wine and Liquor had burned down.  At first I noticed the door was open and bottles of whiskey and vodka were laying around and I thought "cool, free alcohol" but alas, there were fire inspectors checking out the place.

I didn't shop here too much, but I always called this place "The alcoholic's liquor store" because it seemed that only alcoholics shopped there.  Walking into the place was like stepping into an episode of Hoarders.  There were cardboard boxes everywhere, and stacks and stacks of liquor. It has been here for decades.  I heard that someone was shot and killed their during a robbery which is why there was the bullet proof glass. 

 

Test Post

Just testing the iPhone app. I tried to upload a photo from my phone but it took way too long.

My Poems (Rejected by The New Yorker)

In my creative writing class, we had to do a unit project on poetry.  I am not really into poetry but I have to admit I really enjoyed it.   I got so confident I decided to submit to them The New Yorker.  (They were rejected of course). But lucky, lucky you.  You get to read them here. 

Broken – by Lorna Keuning

Don’t you remember?
You are not supposed to be here
You, were given a stay of execution
Why are you so special?
Others were not as fortunate as you

Don’t you forget?
You were bald and burned
You are now chopped and scarred
Like humpty dumpty you fell off the wall
and were put back together again

Why are you here?
You walk through these corridors
that smell of stale milk, you hated school
what are you trying to prove?
what curdled dreams are you trying to resurrect?

You shouldn’t be here
The fleet of doctors, nurses and surgeons all thought so
Don’t you remember their feigned enthusiasm?
as they strapped you to the chair, and filled you full of poison
and strapped you to a table and cooked you till your skin cracked
and you had to beware of germs
and the cat scratch
and the smell of hand-sanitizer still brings terror

Yes, the dim smile with the lie behind their eyes
They knew the truth you see, they’ve seen others just like you
with the files growing thicker as the patient gets thinner.
Nobody dares tell you the truth.

But you are still here
you sometimes look up with shock
it hits you hardest in board meetings
while dim-witted suits talk nonsense.
You breathe clean air with no pain
what makes you so special?
Dee, Karen, Lori, Emily

Are all dead.
but you, you lazy sack are alive.
broken and bruised maybe
but alive.
now what?

=======================

(This one was originally a blog post from 2003)

The Winds of Isabel – by Lorna Keuning

So what do you do when a tropical storm is heading your way?
After a hectic day at the office, you take the subway home
but get out at the stop before yours to meet J*** at the local pub.
He is late.
The lines of communications have been twisted.
You thought 6pm at one pub he was at another..
thank God for cell phones.

The wind is picking up as you find a parking space in front of your house
plastic garbage cans bounce down your street
you light candles and drag the futon mattress into the living room
open the seven foot windows wide and let the breeze flow over you.

The breeze becomes so intoxicating, you decide to go to the beach.

So you give up your parking space and drive
collect flash-light, take off shoes and run
through the wind beaten sand and straight to the surf
laughing, and jumping up and down.
Only a few others are as crazy as the two of you
you can see their shadows in the distance.
You run into the surf and feel the pull of the ocean
and know that just a few steps further in
the force will pull you out to sea.

Water is hard to see in the dark
only white caps are visible
so you shine the flashlight.
You look down and see that J*** has not taken off his shoes.
When you get home you get sand all over the apartment....

 

Police Line Don't Cross

I got an iPhone, and I am really liking Instagram

Old Headshot

Something made me dig out this old headshot photo.  It was the last professional headshot I had taken.  I've had a consistent headshot of myself since I was sixteen (when I began acting).  I haven't really had one taken since. 

About two years ago I had a photographer friend snap a picture of me that I used for a go-see I landed with a top casting director.  My type is completely different now, and my post-chemo hair is very wavy.  Today, actor's headshots are in color.  I've been thinking of having another one taken. 

Tribute

This memorial has been in front of a building on my block for about a week now. I don't know who it's for, or what happened, and nobody else seems to know.

Gone with the Wind

I had a horrible, terrible week that was capped by one of the worst Fridays I have ever had.  I had a list of small errands to run this week that I did not get to because I was too flattened by my day to day existence.  And by small errands, I mean tasks that should only taken me about five, ten minutes TOPS and I couldn't even muster the energy to do them.  One of my tasks was picking up my medication from the pharmacy.  The pharmacist called me twice, and by the second call I could tell she was getting a little tired of my false promises to come by. 

So I was at the "crash and burn" mode on Friday night, and really did not have the energy to do much else than watch television.  TCM is doing an Oscar celebration in honor of the Oscars next week, and last night they screened Gone with the Wind.  I watched it all the way through.  It brought back a memory that is really going to date me.

When I was little girl, about seven or eight years old I think, we were one of the first families to get Home Box Office, what is now known as HBO.  I'm not sure why we had this honor.  My father is no longer with us, so I cannot ask him but I do remember him telling me that we were a test family of some sort.  Not sure why we were so special but that is the story I've been told so I am working on the assumption that it is true.

I grew up in a small town called Sag Harbor, New York on the east end of Long Island.  It was a fairly small town.  I'm guessing it was summer, because it was warm and I was definately not at school that day.  It may have been a Saturday, I can't be sure.  At any rate I had come home from a day of playing with a friend, (I think it was Agatha) and when I came home I saw that basically everyone we knew was in the TV room watching television.  It was standing room only.  And what was playing on the television?  You guessed it - Gone with the Wind. 

I had never heard of the movie before, or had seen it.  I think it may have been one of the first times it had aired on television, because I seem to remember seeing the Home Box Office TV Guide, that had all of the listings.  It was a thin little guide, more like a brochure really.  About 10x7 I would say and maybe ten pages.  At any rate it boasted that this was the first time Gone with the Wind was shown on television.  (update: it was the first time it aired on television, June 1976)

The scene that was playing when I stepped into the TV room was the one where Scarlett shoots and kills the Yankee soldier invading her home.  I remember one of my mother's friends exclaiming "ugh right in the face". When the soldier was shot.

I suppose this most have been a big deal because Gone with the Wind was quite a popular film in it's day, and this of course was long before VCRs and DVD players.  We couldn't just watch things on demand. So I'm sure this group of people had probably heard of this film, but had never had the opportunity to see it. It must have been an event.

My other memories of Home Box Office, were it was the first time I noticed something being repeated on television.  The idea of showing a movie over and over again was new to me.  There were no television series, or talk shows that I recall.  Just movies, a handful of them that played over and over again and I think it was not 24 hours, but I can't be sure.  Some other films I remember being played on Home Box Office: Rocky, Audrey Rose, Jack and the Beanstalk... that's all I can think of right now.

Have you ever hit a point in your life, or a point in your day when you just say to yourself:  self, this is not working out anymore?  Well a few days ago, I hit one of those points. It came on pretty suddenly.  I don't know what triggered it. All of my failures and "I don't want to be this" angst washed over me like a tidal wave.  It was so overwhelming that I had to stop what I was doing and sit on the floor for a bit, until it passed.

Because I don't have the freedom to act on making any changes.  Weather they are real or imaginary, I have shackles.  I am shackled by debt, by responsibility, by a life that I have created for myself that is hard to extract myself from.  I sometimes wonder if I'm not shackled by my own comfort?  I remember feeling this way back in 2007, and it took a stage III cancer diagnosis to shake myself out of it. Yes, there is nothing like a conference with death to help you put things in perspective.

I would like to tell you that I dramatically changed my life and am now living happily ever after, but that would not be quite honest would it?  Sure, I made changes.  I got out of a dead end job, moved out of an apartment and neighborhood I hated.  I bought nice furniture, went back to school. While all of these things were positive changes most of this is just filler.  I realized today, that I have lost myself.  I have allowed myself to be buried under all this filler and what's worse, I haven't been very true to myself. This has got to change.

It is now 2012.  In June, I will hit my five year anniversary of a stage III cancer diagnosis.  I looked death in the face, and I've pulled through it.  I know how lucky I am.  I've known of people who were diagnosed with cancer and have died in those five years, and I know of one woman who had a similar diagnosis that I had, and she has died as well.  Yes, I am very lucky.  I am very grateful.  I should not waste the life I have now. 

Only Two

I made a decision a few weeks ago and today I took action on it.  I've noticed something this past year since I started school.  People don't go to school for an education anymore.  They go to school to get a degree so they can get a job.  Well that is not why I am going to school, I have a job.  I am going so I can get an education.  So I can learn all I can about subjects that interest me, not some future employer.  That often means taking classes in a random order, with no real direction, but what is wrong with this really?  These past few semesters, I have been trying to squeeze as many credits as I can and skate through them and for what?  It's not a race.  And consequently I am not getting the full benefit of my classes.  There are books, and articles I am not reading, and knowledge I am not absorbing because I am just trying to get the grade. It is very difficult to go to school while working full time and then some, and while Brooklyn College is inexpensive compared to most colleges (It's called the poor man's Harvard) it is still costing me thousands of dollars.  I want to get the most for my buck. 

So this coming semester, I am only taking two classes.  This means I am going to be a very old lady by the time I get my degree but it doesn't matter.  What matters is I want to learn as much as I can.

The first class I selected is an British History Class and I can't begin to tell you how excited I am about it.  I've been a British history buff my whole life and I have always wanted to take a class.  There are not too many history classes available durning the hours when I can go to class so this is very fortunate.

The next class I am taking is a creative writing class.  This is also a class that is not usually offered on evening and weekends so when I saw it on the schedule I nearly flipped.  This may also mean more blog posts.  I know I've been real bad about posting.  I've been too busy reading and learning about cognitive and abnormal psychology.  But I'm hoping this class will rev-up my writing juices again.  (Not too much writing in psychology for some reason).

The Poe Toaster a No-show for the third year in a row.

It's considered official, the Poe Toaster is NEVERMORE.  Poe freaks and fans waited all night on the night of January 18/19 to wait for a mysterious stranger, who leaves three roses and half bottle of cognac on the author's grave.  A tradition that started in 1940 seems to have officially come to an end when the stranger did not show up for the third year in a row.   One speculation is whomever the Poe Toaster was they may have seen fit to end the tradition on what would have been the writer's 200th birthday.  At any rate Happy Birthday Edgar.  You would be 203 years old!!

The good news is The Edgar Allen Poe Cottage is now reopened after a year of renovations.  This is the home he lived in with his wife Virginia and his mother-in-law.  It is also the home he was living in when he died under mysterious circumstances while on a trip to Baltimore (his wife had died of TB just a few years before).

So let's never forget that Edgar Allan Poe was a New Yorker when he died.