I'm sitting here in my apartment watching ALCS game 3 between the TX Rangers and NY Yankees and with each pitch I feel like I miss NY even more.
One thing that comforts me is that there is a train that runs a few miles away. At times I can hear the horn and it is very reminiscent of the sound of the LIRR running behind my backyard.
On a brighter note; I started classes at the Beverly Hills Playhouse this past week. I've lined up the first 3 scenes I'll be working on and can't wait to really get into it. It also helps that my first scene is from Mean Streets. I'll be playing Johnny Boy, DeNiro's character. I can't wait to unleash the NY nuance all over that class, and I welcome any critique from my teacher. Even if he wants me to change everything about my performance, that'll only give me more to do and to work on. The great thing about this class I'm involved with is that the environment is a very supportive one and the people in the class with me seem very talented and I look forward to working with everyone.
I noticed something in my neighborhood the other day that made me laugh to myself; A woman was calling to her dog and commanding it...in spanish. This led me to wonder if dogs are multi-lingual animals. Do they adapt to their surroundings in respect to the language or dialect they are raised in? Or do they just get fed up with being yelled at, no matter what language, and say to themselves, "I can't take this person's jawing anymore. I better just go inside and keep quiet." Maybe I'll conduct a little verbal experiment on my landlords' chihuahua, Panchito. Results to follow...
