Sina Eiden

I’ve been daydreaming about my imaginary housekeeper for most of the day.  Her name is Rosarita and she takes very good care of us. Each morning she let’s herself in and fixes us a most wonderful breakfast. “Goodbye, Miss Sina.  Goodbye, Mr. Drew.” she says and waves to us from the front door. Rosarita then begins laundering our clothes and embarks on her daily clean-up. Since she comes every day, there’s not too much to clean, but even if there is you’ll never hear her complain.

If we’re home for lunch, she makes us the tastiest paninis.  But dinner is where Rosarita continues to outdo herself.  She always prepares a grand meal and then takes off her apron and says her goodbyes.

Our son loves spending time with her.  When he asks if he can help, she teaches him Spanish and the proper way to fold a t-shirt.  She’s a multi-tasker and we love her like family.  And she adores us. Ahhhh, I long for you, Rosarita.

I tried to take a nap today, mid clean-up, and thoughts of Rosarita surfaced.  She’s been a fixture in our conversation for years.  Any time there’s a sink-full of dirty dishes I’ll tell Drew, “Rosarita, will get to them.” The donation boxes will start overflowing in our entryway and Drew will ponder, “When is Rosarita supposed to take that to Goodwill?”

If left to my own devices, I will generally clean once a week and be able to keep everything looking reasonably great.  I do a load of laundry daily and spot clean the bathroom here and there.  When someone is coming over, a more thorough cleaning/organizing is performed.  It’s worked for years.

But now the game has changed.  With Drew home full-time and Ronin off for the summer, we’ve been getting behind in the daily “chores”.  And by “we” I mean ME.

Instead of being able to casually fold clothes while I peacefully watch my “stories” during the day, I now have to out maneuver Batman chasing the “bad guy”.  The bad guy likes to run through the apartment stealing things.  (things which usually remain left out)

Instead of keeping the sink somewhat empty and hand washing the dishes after I eat breakfast and lunch alone, I am now enjoying  three meals a day with two others.  And none of the people involved likes to do dishes.

And with an additional adult at home, NOT out in the work-force wearing suits daily, there is DEFINITELY more laundry to do.  Moreso, because this adult recently joined a gym. (and got me to)  Christ, there’s so much laundry.

Rosarita can handle these kinds of changes in the climate of housekeeping. I cannot.  The last thing I want to do when Drew & Ronin are playing Scooby Doo is spend 5 hours (like I did two weeks ago) cleaning the friggin bathroom.  It’s ridiculous.

Either we’re going to adopt some fun “family chores” to do daily or Miss Sina is going to make everyone’s life miserable.  And by everyone, I mean Mr. Drew.

Next Monday, Ali is going to find out that one of the remaining bachelors has a girlfriend!  I’m as giddy as a schoolgirl!!!!

If you have NO IDEA what I’m talking about then you clearly do not share my guilty, GUILTY pleasure watching The Bachelorette.

Now, I know what you’re thinking:  Seriously?  You actually watch that “Reality” show crap?

My answer:  YES, SERIOUSLY!!!

I’ve watched my share of Reality Shows over the past few years.  There are those I’m not ashamed of:  American Idol, Survivor, Dancing With The Stars, The Apprentice (the first season), Amazing Race, Project Runway, The Bachelor (this one is on the fence, embarrassment-wise) …hold on…

Sorry, I had to turn off Young & the Restless.  It was so distracting, I couldn’t remember the names of the crap I’ve watched over the years.  Where were we?  On to the shows that no one except my husband knows I watched:  The Girls Next Door, Paradise Hotel, My Super Sweet 16, Love Cruise, Temptation Island.  My god, the list does go on. (Just to let you know how aware I am, those items in bold required me showering after watching.  They were completely lurid and disgusting… yet I watched them all the same.)

Now don’t get me wrong, I DO know where to draw the line.  I have never had any interest in For the Love of Ray J, The Hills (god I hate that I even typed that one), Cribs, Celebrity Rehab, America’s Next Top Model, or Hell’s Kitchen.

I’ve never watched Cops or Big Brother and I have absolutely no interest tuning in to America’s Got Talent or So, You Think You Can Dance.  I’m not saying these are “bad” shows.  They just haven’t touched me.  But, The Bachelorette has.

Maybe it’s because I know Ali.  Not personally, of course.  She was on the last installment of The Bachelor and me and millions others watched as she rolled away in her limo, crying “I think I made the wrong decision.”  Ali had left The Bachelor of her own accord, when she was allegedly given the ultimatum from work:  ‘Leave the show or you won’t have a job waiting for you when you get back.’  Or something of the sort.

Honestly, when I found out that Ali was going to be the next Bachelorette, I was more than a bit disappointed.  Anyone but her, I thought.  How about Gia?  Gia would have made a LOVELY Bachelorette!  In fact, I remember saying to myself “you couldn’t pay me to watch that show”.  Turns out, you didn’t have to.

All ABC had to do was show the promos for this season and I was in.  ALL IN!  There’s a crazy guy who gets a tattoo.  There’s the “entertainment wrestler” that the rest of the guys HATE.  And then there is what I have been on the edge of my seat waiting for all along:  the guy who has a girlfriend back home!

One word…YUM!!!

Before we judge me any more than we already have, let me tell you I’m no fool.  I realize that these shows are productions and with that undoubtedly comes light scripting, if not full on suggestions from the producers to make things juicy.  And I’ve got to tell you, I LOVE IT!  I love it all!!!!

Wow, I’m so heady from the prospect of next week’s show… I definitely need some grounding.  I think I’ll just return to my episode of Y&R and settle back into “real life”.  Have you watched Y&R?  By golly, it’s the BEST daytime drama on the air and I’ve seen my share of daytime drama, let me tell you…

I fancy myself a “studier of the self”.  I work towards conscious development, if not a little bit of enlightenment here and there.  So imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon the Holy Grail at my very young age.

Let me give you a little background.  You see, I have always felt that if I had just one thing, I would indeed have the perfect life.  I know you’re asking…is it love? Nope…got that and then some.  Money?  Well, I am welcoming more and more of it into my life and I FINALLY feel deserving of it, but no that’s not it either.

What you ask?  What is it the key to the perfect life?  Wonder no more…it is the Chi Flat Iron.

For decades I have walked out of countless salons.  Good, no, GREAT salons.  And the one thought has always plagued me was, ‘too bad I can’t duplicate this at home’.  What was their secret?  Why could virtually EVERY stylist that I had ever had blow dry and style my hair in a way that I NEVER could?  Why, dear God, why????

Ever on the path to enlightenment I recently took my first post-child trip, sans family, to Denver.  It was lovely, if you’re wondering.  I met up with my BEST friend from childhood and had an amazing time.  Tracy, said friend, always has a great gadget for the hair. Years ago, when I went back to Pennsylvania for her wedding, I discovered the glories of the big-barrel curling iron.  At the time, it was QUITE a find.  For me, it wasn’t about the curl, but rather the sheen.

Back to present time.  We’re in the bathroom of the Hilton Garden Inn getting ready to go out, much like we did when we were 13.  Make-up and toiletries everywhere.  Talking and applying, Tracy whips out her Chi.  What a thing of beauty!

I had NEVER used a flat iron before.  My hair is already straight, I just didn’t see the point.  The point, my friends, is that you can wake up with the nattiest looking head of hair on the planet and with nary one pass of the flat iron through those natty locks, you suddenly have a shining beacon of stunning-ness.

Ok, I may be overdoing it, but I don’t think so.  After ALL OF THESE YEARS, all the longing, all the cursing my own styling skills and revering those of my stylist…it happened.  I used that flat iron and I had salon hair.

Some of you naysayers are probably thinking, “Well, of course.   You were on vacation.  You were having a great time.  Everything seems better when you’re away from home.”   Not so.

I followed my intuition and ordered a Chi online when I got home.  It arrived quickly, but I didn’t open the box.  I waited.  I was scared.  All that power, in such a tiny device.  I didn’t know if I was ready for it.  Little did I know, I was.

I had my hair cut and styled on Friday.  I used the flat iron today and My God, my hair looked like I just stepped out of a salon.  And I didn’t even blow dry it properly.

Since using the Chi, my Chi, the air smells sweeter.  I’m noticing more vibrancy in colors.  And the laugh of a child now brings tears to my eyes.

I would like to thank Tracy, once again, for introducing me to yet another life altering gadget.  But even more-so, I wish to thank the makers of the Chi for helping me reach a life goal.

It’s all smooth styling from here.

If you’re coughing up a lung & holding onto the rails for dear life, you SHOULD NOT be on the treadmill!  I don’t understand why people continue to “run” on these things when they’re bodies are revolting.  In front of everyone.

This lady next to me is hacking and sweating like crazy.  She’s got her towel on the rail in front of her but uses her HAND to wipe the sweat off of her face, etc.   WTF???  I peeked over and saw that she was gunning for 30 minutes of “running”. Trust me, she was done at 13!  Ick.

And why does NO ONE smile at the f’ing Y?  Granted mine is composed of mostly older folks.  And when I say older, I’m guessing the median age there is 65 -70. I’m not kidding.

There are some definite plusses.  Most of them adhere to the “no more than 30 minutes” rule for each machine.  Heck, they’re usually off before then.  But they do have stamina…they’re slow, but definitely steady.

Some of the older gentlemen wear proper pants, belts and button down shirts with their sneakers.  I think it shows that they care.

And for me, who hasn’t REALLY worked out regularly since BEFORE I became pregnant, I can work out at my own pace and still feel superior to the 86 year old two machines down, who’s going MUCH slower.  Win/Win!

Come to think of it…I bet their pilates classes will REALLY raise my self-esteem. Thank god for my local Y.

Well, I’m starting to see what’s keeping me from blogging more frequently.

A)  I’m a bit self conscious about sharing my stories, feelings, hatred…  Yes, I’m an actor.  But at my core I’m VERY shy.

B)  Whenever I actually HAVE something to write, I can’t remember how the hell to log on to my website.

With regards to point A, I’m going to work on just getting over it and writing anyway.    And as for point B, I’ve just bookmarked my login page, so that should help me in a month or so, when I decide to write something.

I’ve also discovered that I have a very difficult time tolerating when things are going well.  Really difficult.  Truth is, “good” = boring in my mind. Evidently.  And so the minute things are going smoothly with no problems on the horizon, I feel the distinct need to make mischief and cause some real drama.

My acting coach suggested I “Compass” this and figure out what I need to do to tolerate the good.  Sounds like a great idea…but I haven’t done it yet. Is there anything to that?  Does it mean something or have I simply been too busy.

I mean, I have been busy.  I finally assembled the dreamy, new color printer that has been sitting in my living room for the past month.  It’s been lazing around like a friend who has worn out their welcome,  (I don’t personally have any friends like that) so while everyone was gone, I put it together.  The actual set up was pretty quick.  I’d say it took less than 30 minutes.  Now, the time it took to get all the goddamn dust underneath and behind the desk cleaned up… that was about an hour and a half of my life that I won’t get back.  There’s still crap lying all around the room.  I just have not been able to pick through all the paperwork and sort/organize everything.  But that new printer is a DREAM!!!!

I’m wondering if my writing comes across as pesimistic.  I really don’t see myself as a pessimist.  I’m one of the more positive people I know.  In person.  I genuinely expect the best in my life.  And I can tell you at the end of every day, I give thanks for this glorious life I have.  Do I want more? Yep.  But I know that it’s all in the works.

Which brings me back to what I was talking about before…tolerating the good. That’s what I don’t get.  I expect the best for me, my family, etc.  I’m READY to have what I want.  And now, everything is unfurling perfectly in front of me and it kind of freaks me out?  Does that make sense to anyone?

Maybe it doesn’t need to make sense.  What if  none of this matters and it’s all a game and we get to make up the rules?  In which case, I don’t need to wreak havoc and create drama.  Create.  That’s another thing the aforementioned “acting coach goddess” suggested.   I think she’s onto something.

This is turning out to be a very exciting month.  My SAG membership is paid in full.  Wahoo!!!  And I had a great audition for a national yesterday.  But more importantly, I’m learning so much about myself.  And by learning, I mean reminding. Reminding myself of how very much I hate people.  They are stupid, insensitive, and unfair.  To name a few qualities.  There are more, but they’re not kind.  That’s another one…unkind.

That reminds me of an unkind story I have.  I was carrying my son to an appointment.  He was 3.  We’re a few steps from the office door and I twist my ankle on a damn crack in the concrete.  I not only go down to the ground, but actually DROP my son.  Yes, HE hit the ground, too.  I was mortified.  So, he’s crying and I’m on the ground with him and I turn & there is this guy just standing there.  He’s about 10 feet away and he looks at us and turns.  He doesn’t offer “hey, are you okay?”  He just turns and walks away.  Now I have always had a keen dislike for people, but this solidified it.  People are fucking awful.

Of course, there are exceptions…

Wow, that felt good to share.

(can’t believe I haven’t updated since the New Year)

A lot going on.  Had  fun at my audition for Pottery Barn today.  Just shot new headshots (yes, more) last week and I’m looking forward to posting those as they roll in.

2009 has been a wild ride.  Highs and lows galore.  Thank you to everyone in my life…you’re love, support and friendship has kept me going.

I’m anticipating wonderful adventures for all in 2010.  Fasten your seatbelts!

If you haven’t seen Drew in Zombie Town, you don’t know what you’re missing. Really.

Closing weekend is sold out, but they’ve just added a Thursday Night show, on November 5th.

Free-ish jello shots (if that’s a selling point).

Well, folks, it’s up.   My episode of Trauma aired last night…woo hoo…and it’s now on Hulu.

My scene starts about 7 1/2 minutes into the show.  Check it out.