Hooray! So glad you’re here! Make yourself comfortable, have a cuppa coffee, take a seat. Oh, you thought the cliché was New Yorkers are rude? Aw, fuck that! Oops. I mean, HI! My name is Mary Lane! Here’s the scoop–
New York Cliché began in May 2008, four days before I moved to New York City to pursue a life in the theatre. An aspiring actress moving to the city of dreams, can it get any more cliché than that? My career just beginning and at the mercy of casting directors, I wanted a creative outlet I could control. So I started writing about the funny “New York” things that happened to me. I never thought the reality of this city would be just as crazy as they make it look on TV, but it is! That’s what this blog is all about. My posts bring vivid color (ranging the spectrum from gold to shit brown) to what life in the Big Apple is all about. Feel free to live vicariously.
Why call myself New York Cliché? Because I love poking fun at myself (and life in general). And what’s the fun of a joke if you can’t share it? I love to make people laugh. It’s one of the things I like best about myself and at the same time a total weakness. I’m a big ham, a total goof, but sometimes I try too hard to ramp it up from giggle to guffaw. Well I’m an actor, whaddaya expect? Let’s call it part of my charm. Everything you’ll read here has a humorous edge, especially if I’m talking about heart break or oral surgery.
1. I’m a struggling artist: actor, singer, blogger, visual art hobbyist, and occasional pirate. That said, my bills usually get paid by survival jobs that involve not murdering models, or pretending I love cars, or ushering James Franco, or wearing a bra in pubic, or brushing off biker guys.
2. My first home in Manhattan was a tiny apartment by Lincoln Center I shared with my 2 best friends from childhood. A year or so ago I got priced out of the Upper West Side and moved to a less tiny, 5th floor walk-up in Hamilton Heights (think North Harlem). I share it with 2 roommates, lovely ladies I met performing summer theatre, and our obstreperous kitty cat Pip.
3. I’m single and fabulous (exclamation point): one of the 600,000 more single women than single men in NYC (and trying not to cry myself to sleep over that statistic). It’s not for lack of trying. I’ve met men at Goodwill, on the street, on Central Park benches, in grocery checkout lines, on stage, online, and in Times Square. I’ve met men who I hated in elementary school, who had girlfriends, and one whom I borderline stalked in Strawberry Fields. Then there was the one time I did fall in love, but he was more into Mary Jane than Mary Lane.
Oh, Mr. Right, you’re illusive
as f*ck, but I’m still not giving up on you.
There you have the top three reasons. There are dozens of others- I spend too much money at Starbucks, slow moving tourists make me livid, I own too many clothes, my favorite television show will always be Sex and the City, etc, etc.
All photos by John Michael Decker