RIP

My dear sweet Aunt Terry Benon passed away. She is one of the last links I have to my father's family. One of thirteen Bronx-born Migliaccio kids - the original Dead End Kids - that called Leo Gorsey and Huntz Hall friends. One of my father's favorite sisters - ok - they all were...

My heart is so broken.

And then there were two...

Much love,

Candi

Eventually...

...is a word that gives great comfort to those of us in denial. I will use it in a sentence to define further: Eventually certain things are gonna happen.

I believe we move towards any eventuality with either distinct apprehension or excited expectation. (Yup, that's me, Ms. Black and White, with a splash of Ms. Extreme thrown in for good measure.) But that pretty much is the way my life seems to go. It's been one heck of a ride. And I like it!

Oh. I forgot to mention. Another thing about eventually, is that it usually catches up and occurs, hence the term - eventually. And like a boy scout, you best be prepared. And with any expectation, eventuality or expectation; whatever adjectives or attitudes you bring, the outcome is always defined by what you bring to the table.

The old adage goes, there are only two certainties in life - death and taxes. And I hate to split hairs (not really) but I think there are other semi-certain inevitabilities. One certainty for me: A child grows up and moves on, leaving you with what you wished for. You and your life

Yikes.

The Next Phase in Candi Milo's Life was much ballyhooed in the press (ok, in my house) last year. I was absolutely certain I would do certain things once my daughter graduated. You know, that graduation... it was happening in about eight years and in no way in the next few months? We weren't there yet. We couldn't be there yet. How could she be eighteen when I'm only seventeen?!?!? The whole graduation was still referred to, in my mind as: eventually, when my daughter graduates I will...

Knowing that when they called her name it was going to be my turn with 'eventually', I anxiously watched from the viewing stands as she and the Senior Choir sang, Michael Jackson's I'll Be There (No dance, but I did wave my iPhone with my Zippo lighter app blazing!). In an effort to further keep my eventually at bay rather than ponder, "now what, big mouth?, I marveled at how fitting it was that she should sing a song from my childhood to end hers. There were speeches upon speeches, but it was a glorious day in sunny California. We all listened politely, really dying to hear our graduate's names called, and I daydreamed about how fast it went. And how my Bambi always seemed to bring positivity and light into any situation.I mean...

Yesterday she had a pacifier and needed a hat to go with every dress. Eventually she would enter kindergarten.

Yesterday she started a brand new school when we moved out to what we liked to refer to as our country estate. Eventually she would go to the junior high being built.

Yesterday she started that newly completed junior high as I dropped her off in the carpool line, with the other parents frantically waving for their kids to come back and get the lunches they left on the front seat. Eventually she would enter high school.

Yesterday she was Freshman class president, on the Volleyball team, and in her first play. Eventually she would drive.

Yesterday I was the DMV offering the driving evaluator a cool $20 to flunk her so I didn't have agita until I heard the car pull into the garage. Eventually she would do college applications.

Yesterday we were filling out applications, supplemental applications, scheduling auditions, picking material for those auditions, and waiting to hear the news. Eventually she would find the perfect school.

Yesterday she found the perfect school. Eventually (in about 8 years!!!!!) she will graduate.

Yesterday my beautiful, sweet, talented, crazy Bambi graduated. In 8 weeks she will attend college.

8 weeks!!! That's it. In eight weeks - I will be free to do as I please and ponder my own eventualities. Yup, dreaming of and making plans for the life I had put on hold, in order to raise my child - who hopefully will need very little psycho-therapy because of it... hee hee hee

I am taking the steps. They are baby steps - but there is forward motion. And I will bring all the positivity and light and joy and hope I own into my new stage. I may have to shake some of it out of mothballs, but believe me, I still got it. I will eagerly listen to my intuition and trust my instincts and they will take me exactly where I need to be. (Ready, Stan?)

As far as I go...

Yesterday I sang professionally at an agent's showcase - first time in 10 years. It went really well. Eventually I will...

Don't bug me just yet about that... I'll get to it... eventually. Right now I am sipping away at a large glass of "I will gladly pay you on Tuesday for a hamburger today"...

Trust me, you'll know when I know.

Until then, you know you love me...

I Just Haven't Met You Yet...

I haven't met you yet Stanley, but it's not for lack of thinking really hard about trying, or for lack of the sudden spate of people I just found out we know in common. (Say what? Is that even a sentence? Don't judge me, I'm just smitten... Name one girl who isn't hot for a guy in a tux. Dare you.) But alas, here I sit making funny voices and even a funny short movie, alone. Sans Tucci.

Tonight I am going to the dress rehearsal for this musical theater workshop I'm taking. It's tough on the ego but so much better than actually having to swallow Rust-o-leum to get the kinks out. And the looseness helps my funny bone. It helps me edit my funny bone. It makes hitting that DELETE key easier. hee hee hee...

See, I am putting the pieces together on the teeny tiny musical "Stalking Stanley" and one of the things I like to do is build my bits around songs and lyrics that get to the heart of the subject matter. In this case, love - and why I am so horribly bad at finding it. And since this matter involves the heart - they all seem to be songs about some sort of love; lost, found, reborn, forbidden and in the case below (Michael Buble's I Haven't Met You Yet.) seemingly pre-determined. I think I'd like to open with this tune - it really seems to fit my personality, my luck, my je ne sais quoi...

I'd like everyone reading this to learn the lyrics so you can sing along when you come see me. The group sing may help to quell my nerves. Don't worry, there are plenty of numbers I'll do solo, including one set to the tune of Eye Of The Tiger - where the lyrics will be from the letters my fans send from Russia requesting photos and autographs. I shall read/sing verbatim, in complete and utter Russian/English dictionary syntax.

"I am for having of the pleasure of you making of my acquaintance."

Yup. I am HUGE in the Ukraine...

What that has to do with love, you will have to find out...(me, too...meeeee, too...)

Wouldn't it be kind of dreamy to get a kiss from Mr. Tuccissimo on stage? Perfect ending. Very Sex In The City - which I can assure you is a given should that happen...

Until such time Stanley, I write away...

Until such time class, you have your homework. Please have Mr. Buble memorized and ready to be performed en masse:

Haven't Met You Yet

I'm not surprised, not everything lasts.

I've broken my heart so many times, I stopped keeping track.

Talk myself in, I talk myself out.

I get all worked up, then I let myself down.

I tried so very hard not to lose it. I came up with a million excuses.

I thought, I thought of every possibility.

And I know someday that it'll all turn out. You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out.
And I promise you, kid, that I give so much more than I get. I just haven't met you yet.

I might have to wait, I'll never give up.

I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck.

Wherever you are, whenever it's right.

You'll come out of nowhere and into my life.

And I know that we can be so amazing.

And, baby, your love is gonna change me.

And now I can see every possibility.

And somehow I know that it'll all turn out.

You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out.
And I promise you, kid, I give so much more than I get.

I just haven't met you yet.

They say all's fair, In love and war.

But I won't need to fight it.

We'll get it right and we'll be united.

(Michael Jackson dance break)

And I know that we can be so amazing.

And being in your life is gonna change me.

And now I can see every single possibility.

And someday I know it'll all turn out.

And I'll work to work it out.
Promise you, kid, I'll give more than I get.

Than I get, than I get, than I get.

Oh, you know it'll all turn out.

And you'll make me work so we can work to work it out
And I promise you kid to give so much more than I get.

Yeah, I just haven't met you yet.

I just haven't met you yet.

Oh, promise you, kid.

To give so much more than I get.

I said love, love, love, love.

Love, love, love, love (I just haven't met you yet)
Love, love, love, love.

Love, love. I just haven't met you yet...

Even though you haven't met me yet...You know you love me... Candi

I Want To Go To The Tony Awards

I'm just saying.

I'm shooting a short film all day on Saturday - but I could probably get there on Sunday afternoon. Early flight.

I could crash it - but I really don't want to...I mean...I'm not sure of the type of people who crash The Tony's...you follow me?

I imagine there's a lot of spray tan, Chanel No. 5, possibly some fabulous wigs, and a lot of Botox...and that's just the guys...

I have a dress. It' a simple number. Black. Velvet.

I have shoes and a bag. And I can get a cab to the theater from JFK.

I don't have a show recording that Monday morning - and graduation isn't until Wednesday, so I could stay overnight in Manhattan.

I have everything!

Except a date.

Oh.

Or an invitation.

Guess I'll be watching it from the comfort of my home...but I'm wearing my dress and shoes and bag...

It might be better. More fun this way. Because...if I see anyone cute in the audience I can freeze on their face and squint my eyes, and pretend that's me standing next to them. Congratulating them on their win. Or accepting my award.

Hey! Never say never!

Or delusional fantasy.

You know you love me - Candi

Post Harlem

The photo to the right is of me at The Palm restaurant in the Theater District in New York after seeing 'Hair' with friends from American Idol. (I know. I have no idea why I make that face in photos lately. Maybe I'm nervous that I might look a little too appealing to Stanley and have to queer it somehow before I actually have to think of something clever to say on a first date... Hee hee hee)

We met up with even more friends outside the Hirschfeld after hugging new friends backstage who performed in the show. Then we all walked up the Avenue to have late snacks and cocktails - me skipping alongside in my sexy Dolce & Gabana pumps. So fabulous and yet so... ow ow ow my feeeeet.

We were all gabbing and having a ball in the bar, crowing and cooing about the incredible talent and hard work in the "Hair' cast. Eating wings and bad bar food...with absolute relish! No slouch cooing going on with my friends - the likes of a successful NY writer/film-maker, a brilliant Broadway actress, one of the stars of 'Hair', in my opinion the hottest musical director and musical arranger and vocal coach from Idol, the hottest vocal coach in Los Angeles AND the hottest vocal coach in New York at our table doing the cooing. Oh, and of course there was me - the chick who does boys - voices that is, and who also just wanted to wrap the 'Hair' star in my arms and take her back home as my own.

"Look what followed me home! Can I keep her, pleeeeeeaaaassseeee?!"

In my five days in the city I saw a ton of amazing talent. From a rock band in Union Square on Sunday evening, to my friend Maile and her friends French Stewart and Laurie Metcalf - who were beyond hysterical, BEYOND hysterical in "Voice Lessons" on Theater Row that same night. To street dancers in Chelsea and then Debbie Gravitte who tore up Feinstein's Monday evening in a benefit performance for the Actor's Fund. To a fine Reggae band in Harlem I heard outside my restaurant on FDB on Tuesday morning having Cokes and dogs with my friend Geneva, who was showing me around, to finally the entire cast of "Hair."

I was feeling so good about possibly relocating there. Is it going to be Chelsea or the West Village or is it Harlem? Manhattan's a place filled with creative and talented people and I was going to be among them!!! Yay!!!!

And then Wednesday morning happened. Martha Stewart to be precise. Martha Freaking Stewart and her bridal show.

I wasn't sure I heard it right. I mean, I only caught it from the reflection of the TV in the hotel bathroom mirror. But I thought I heard Martha announce that coming up next was a woman who was a master crafter. I was confused. Master crafter, as in you had to be a journeyman crafter first? I'd have to wait until after the commercials - none of which I was on - so yeah, an eternity in actress years... Then this woman came on, looking cute, but nervous and a little like she lost a bet and had to do this segment.

This woman was going to show us all how to make the pipe cleaner rings that Martha and all the guests were wearing (all couples about to be married...so yeah...a lot of little Martha wanna bes with their very confused and embarrassed men clapping and shrieking for a chance to win something likely incredibly insignificant for their upcoming wedding.) My first thought was, since when do first graders get married, cause those are the only people I can think of who would wear crap like this. My second thought was...what did I just hear Martha ask her?!

Martha: Now, you're completely self-taught at pipe cleaner twisting, correct?

I would have sent the Master Crafter a case of Scotch, which she looked like she badly needed, if she had only answered: No, I had to go to fucking pipe cleaner college to learn this!!!!!!!

Instead she said: I am completely self-taught. I am self-taught at all my crafting. And I use only the finest of pipe cleaners, that I get from martha-stewart-dot-com. I wish I were joking. Can you get any more delusional? Completely bereft of any sense of what true talent and craft is? And then....THEN...we were treated to the craft of pipe cleaner ring making. And Martha couldn't do it. It was a shame really. Think how she could have kept herself so occupied and maybe put on a wedding or two while in prison. I know. Mean. But funny.

Crafting is not something to be mastered. That's like mastering bouncing. Although I will say that the bouncer at the Mercer seemed very talented and very crafty.

"Look what followed me home! Can I keep him, pleeeeeeaaaassseeee?!" No Candi! No more bouncers!

Talent is what was on stage at the Hirschfeld. Talent was in the streets. Talent was in a small theater on Theater Row. Talent is in our hospitals. In our classrooms. On our battlefields. Talent is in the home - where every parent is a star - whether making a bed, dinner or those stupid pipe cleaner rings for their kids to play wedding with.

Craft is what actors practice to make a living entertaining us with their personal illumination of the human condition. Craft is a singer reaching for a note and bringing us up there with her. Talent is the likes of Judy and Bette and Liza and Lena. Craft is Meryl and Marlee and Denzel and De Niro. Talent and craft go hand in hand. And neither should be confused with anything that is used to ream out a pipe.

You know you love me - Candi