Six foot five in f me heels

I have no idea why I’m not a spy. I think I would make an awesome spy. I really love trench coats and fedoras, so I’m halfway there, right?

Granted, I didn’t want to become a spy or a detective until I started reading “Nancy Drew” in the 4th or 5th grade to drown out the ditherings of yet another teacher who would rather I not be in their class. The 90s were not good times for artsy kids with ADHD. Somewhere around that time I first read “Harriet the Spy”, and decided that even though the car and boyfriend choices were not as killer as a spy vs detective work, the work itself seemed to be more rewarding.

This is honestly what through my mind. “I could have a super neat car, and nifty boyfriend, but I’d never get the *tough* cases. If I’m a spy, I’d basically be a loner, but could affect real change.” This was all based on two girls that  worked on the majority of their cases only long enough each day to be home by dinner, and their biggest tool in analysis was either a random, misunderstood beatnik, or magnifying glass. Based on that, I think I still came to the right conclusion.

It’s the people you don’t see very often that make the world go around. It’s a very odd place to be, an actor married to a cop. My life’s work is based upon the desire to be seen forming and creating characters, making people laugh, building plots, telling stories. My husband’s life is very much the opposite. He is rarely, if ever noticed. His job is almost entirely based on the fact that he blends in and then swoops in to solve a problem as it arises. Most of my husband’s job is done behind the scenes, yet you know it’s been done, because the problem has gone away. It kind of sounds like my husband is in the mob when I say that, doesn’t it? Although, after eight years of wedded bliss, shaving my legs is akin to making him an offer he can’t refuse. I hope no one ends up tied to cinder blocks because of it.

I guess that’s why I’m not a spy. You can’t exactly have everyone knowing you’re a spy, can you? I can’t go around quoting Harriet (the aforementioned spy) or Marlowe (Christopher, and spy for her majesty.), and expect people to not notice me. (the fact that I am a near 6′ tall woman who loves F-me heels may also not be helping) I think I am simply not meant to be quiet. Like most actors, I do not have that strength of character. I blog. I write. I take pictures of my food and my follies and tweet them out. I instagram. I go to CrossFit with other actors, and attempt to recite Sorkin whilst doing kettlebell swings. (That is NOT easy, mind you.) I am not a fame whore (notice, no reality television) but I have some strange and overwhelming need to not only act, but connect with likeminded people.

Sometimes, though, that’s a real bitch. Be careful what you wish for, right? But sometimes, it’s just plain old awesome.

I was asked to speak at a conference for PFLAG FOP members. PFLAG, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the acronym is “Parents and friends of lesbians and gays”, and FOP is “Fraternal Order of Police”. The thing is, as much as I adore writing and acting, I hate public speaking. Here I am, given the opportunity to embrace two communities I love and support, who too often go entirely unnoticed, and I am quaking in my stilettos terrified. Ironic, right? I can’t exactly just go up on stage and do a slideshow of my instagrammed pictures of cucumber salads, can I? I want the friends and fam of the gay officers and the gay officers themselves to feel like I honored both their uniqueness and their sacrifice. I don’t think I can do that with an interpretive dance to Ke$ha. (however much the gays may enjoy that!) They deserve better. They deserve interpretive dance AND at LEAST my karaoke rendition to “Who Runs the World”.

I am effing terrified. If I didn’t know so many gay men go commando, I’d be picturing them all in their underwear. Picturing their nudity, however, may be too distracting.

Can’t I just bake for them?

Since yesterday was the last step in preK registration for the Captain, I made a very special breakfast. It.was.awesome.

Make these. Now.