The DARE Program

Not Too Bright

2011-09-20T20:29:00.001-07:00

I'd like to share with you the dumbest thought I've ever had.

This happened years ago, and even after all this time I haven't trumped myself with a dumber thought... that I know of. Feel free to inform me if I've ever said something bonehead-ier than this:

A man rode by me on a recumbent bicycle, and I thought "Oh what a cool bike. He must be paralyzed from the waist up."

The fact that I soon after realized how impossible that is comforts me slightly.

It Boils Down To This

2011-09-15T16:03:00.000-07:00

There are two types of people: those who return the shopping cart to the cart corral, and those who don't.

I know everyone thinks they are complex and unique. I'm not saying we're not. We're very special, each of us a precious jewel in a pile of crap. I am saying the choice that is made in this scenario determines if you contribute to society, or if you expect other people to pick up your slack. Whether you're industrious or lazy. Humble or narcissistic. Which one are you? You don't have to tell me. Just start returning the cart to the corral, precious jewel.

Sarah's Back... Back Again...

2011-09-13T10:58:00.000-07:00

After a significant hiatus, I'm back to blogging full time. I'm sure The Huffington Post is all over this.

I had to take a break for awhile. I started to feel as though I needed to censor the majority of my evil little thoughts for a myriad of reasons.

During my time as an on-air personality for a TV station, I wanted to tread lightly, so's not to create any negative publicity. E! News was holding their breath, just waiting for me to slip up.

I then did a stint of subbing for Pre-K through 12th grade and believe me, I had A LOT to say about those kids (demons). But you know, that wouldn't be "nice" and again, I was trying to be respectful, and continue to get paid for babysitting those... gulp... sweet little angels (read: opposite).

Finally, I felt accountable to my husband, Grant. As an entertainer, he has a relatively high profile. I mean, he has 2182 Facebook friends! The man has arrived. So, between his political aspirations (I know), his impressionable young fans, and creepy middle aged women that want to know more about me (Yes, YOU)... I needed a timeout to figure out how to continue writing here.

It's decided. I'm not changing a GD thing. And it feels really good. See you suckas tomorrow!

My Apologies

2010-07-15T12:14:00.001-07:00

I have to come clean.

I haven't updated this blog in awhile because I wasn't ready to publicly admit something shameful. I've finally resigned myself to my misdeed, and I'm ready to shout it from the mountaintops! Or, inform the three of you that still check this site periodically between Facebook and your work email.

I've moved to Branson, Missouri.

Sigh. I know. WTF, right? Now for damage control.

I moved here because my boyfriend's band got a great gig. I met him on the ship, and amazingly, we still like each other. I figured it was worth pursuing a future with the one person I didn't want to strangle after spending a significant amount of time with. So far, so good.

I know I'm not shocking anyone by saying that Branson is weird. I spend as little time there as possible, only venturing in to see the boy's show once a week. Other than that, I head north to Springfield six days a week to work and perform.

Here's the crazy thing: I moved to BFE to find an improv theater I love performing at, and a steady gig on TV.

I work at a new TV station as an on-air personality. Basically I'm a Midwestern (or southern, depending on your taste) VJ. So far, it's been pretty fun. Here are some examples of some vignettes I've done in the past couple weeks:

Car Vignette

Events Vignette

Silly stuff under the guise of a big girl, corporate job. I wear closed toes shoes at least twice a week now.

On Friday and Saturday nights, I get to perform at The Skinny Improv. I cannot believe this place is here. The performers are truly talented, and so much fun to play with. I did a piece on The Skinny for the TV station. This was my first attempt at a vignette without direction, so cut me some slack! Golly.

The Skinny Improv Vignette

So, this is my new life, in a nutshell. It's not that bad.

Trash

2009-11-27T20:30:00.001-08:00

To my Do-Gooder Friends,

Go to KeepOceansClean.org to save... The Little Mermaid?

The Environmental Defense Fund is dedicated to protecting the environmental rights of all people, including future generations. Either they think eventually we'll mate with fish, or they are desperate to reach us by appealing to our childhood heroines.

Ariel!! No! Don't eat that plastic bag! If only we'd donated ten bucks to that foundation!

Pick a little, talk a little, cheep cheep cheep...

2009-10-05T14:26:00.000-07:00

I kinda want to start a blog where I post transcribed conversations I overhear between women in the bathroom. I don't know what it is, but I think we forget that other people can hear us when we're in there. In fact, Ladies, our words are magnified and echoed to the other chicks in the stalls. The really sad thing is that the conversations revolve around 2 subjects - Men that aren't doing what we want them to do, and Women we hate.

If you're a woman reading this and thinking to yourself, "I don't do that!" yes, you do. I challenge my sex to broaden our horizons and try to talk something else. I know it'll be hard; we've been conditioned over the years that the place we pee is the place we bitch. And how about while you're saying something nice about your guy friend's new girlfriend, you take a seat... it'll help you relax and save me from sitting in your germs later. Oh, what a lovely place the world will be!!

The Truth

2009-09-11T13:25:00.000-07:00

I had the best conversation the other night. I was at a bar (I know, surprise surprise... shut up) with my childhood friend, when we ran into her sister. Her VERY drunk sister. When my friend introduced us, the following was said:

Sister: WHO are you?

Me: Sarah.

Sister: Oh, yeah! I don't like you.

Me: Oh yeah? Awesome.

My friend: No, no. You like Sarah. You don't like (other childhood friend who shall not be named... though it's tempting because she turned out to be an asshole).

Sister: Nope. Don't like you. (hiccup) Never did.

Me: Well, it's nice to meet you for the first time ever.

That's pretty amazing. Now, I gave her alot of leeway in this scenario, because she was so wasted. Any protests on my part would've made her insist harder, and maybe turn violent... I dunno, she had alot of tattoos. I don't mess with chicks with alot of tattoos. Also, I kind of like the thought of people having the courage - albeit liquid courage - to say what they're actually thinking. I also like thinking I'm memorable and powerful enough to be remembered unfavorably for 20 years.

On another note, I discovered the best thing ever: I found a light in a bathroom in a house in Wellesley, MA, under which I look STUNNING. Seriously, this is my spot. I couldn't stop staring at myself in the mirror. I actually kept leaving the party I was at to go into the bathroom to look at myself. So, let's all pick a day when we travel to this bathroom in MA and look at me under the light. You will not be disappointed.

Wow, no wonder that girl hates me.

2009-07-14T12:03:00.000-07:00

I was in Hamilton, Bermuda, the other day, chilling at a coffee shop, using their free WiFi, when this box walked by me:

The owner's kid was parading around, having the time of his life, unaware that what he's doing is totally weird. At what age do we stop letting kids do strange things? I'd put him at 7 years old; do you think if he was thirteen it wouldn't be as endearing? What if I did it today? I think I could pull it off. Somebody get me a refrigerator box.

2009-06-30T13:19:00.000-07:00

Only 2 and a half more weeks and I'm home! What the hell am I going to do with myself? Yikes.

My new unhealthy obsession is the TV show Friday Night Lights. I've watched 3 seasons just this week. It can't be good for the brain to watch 12 straight hours of a TV show, while only taking a break to get food from the buffet or pee. It's worth it. This show is A. Maze. Ing. It actually has a main character in love with his wife, not that cliche bullshit we see in sitcoms all the time. You know, the reluctant husband bound to the ball and chain. Instead, it's an example of a healthy, happy relationship. It's balanced; they fight and have misunderstandings, but the message is always "love your family, they are the most important thing." What a concept. And in this age, where a lot of kids (and adults) learn how to behave by watching TV, let's have more of that please! Let's make it cool again to be held accountable to the people we love.

Fashion Tips

2009-06-21T11:08:00.001-07:00

Dear Men and Boys of my generation,

This is your official warning: if you don't start pulling up your pants, I'm going to start posting pictures of your ass crack on this blog. Nobody wants that. Do us all a solid.

2009-06-12T09:42:00.000-07:00

I've seen a phenomenon a few times in the past year, and it must be addressed. Whenever there's some kind of accident, people rush over to the site and hover, watching the action. WTF? Get out of there! You're not helping anything. It's a part of human nature that I abhor.

Yesterday, I was waiting for some friends just outside the ship when I heard a piercing scream behind me. An old man had fallen off the trolley. Now, he was actually fine, since it was literally a foot from the ground. But her unnecessary, over-dramatic shriek attracted all kinds of attention AND freaked the old guy out. I'm sure he was thinking, "Good Lord, what does this woman see that I don't? This must be really bad!" Sure enough, here come all the people that just have to see what's going on. Give the man some privacy, and find something else to preoccupy your tiny minds with, people!

I came up with a joke recently, and I'm not quite sure how to get it out there. I figure this is a good place to start:

Q: What did the judge say to the 2 fruits in California?
A: Canteloupe!

Thank you, thank you (insert grand, sweeping bow here)

2009-06-01T11:09:00.000-07:00

It's so hot in Bermuda today, I'm sweating from too much sitting around.

I have to laugh, because while writing this, I'm having a conversation over Facebook chat with the guy sitting across from me. Ah, modern flirtation. Gotta keep up.

And... for your viewing pleasure:

I call this: Naked in Public

Also...

2009-05-11T13:32:00.000-07:00

Yet another of my ex-boyfriends is engaged.

I'm like Primer.

Careful, boys: primer is only necessary when the material has void spaces. Sure you want to adhere to that?

What the hell am I talking about? What a weirdo. Hmmm.... no wonder I'm single.

Me Bitching Again

2009-05-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

As the designer of a cruise ship, I think the best placement of closet doors is where they can roll side to side and slam when the ship rocks. Did I mention I put them on wheels to ensure prime sliding? I should be murdered.

I'm in a weird place right now, literally and figuratively. On one hand, I'm really ready to get back to my life on land. On the other hand, I'm not sure what I'm going back to. A shitty economy? I've been so fortunate to be a working actor, I really don't want to go back to uncertainty. I guess I'll just do what I always do. Trust that it's going to work out. So far, so good.

The carpet in my cabin is so busy. Any time I drop something it takes me forever to find it. Everything blends into the pattern! I've just stopped looking for things. If I drop it, it's gone forever, like dropping it in molten lava. I hope the person who inhabits this cabin after me enjoys it all.

Man, I'm surly right now.

Well, since I'm on a roll...

Here's the problem with the auto-flush toilets: people assume it will always flush. Make sure!! Turn around and confirm that it's gone! I'm sick of walking into a stall and being greeted by your pee. This isn't England, for crying out loud! (I have no idea what that means. Some connection to the plague?) People are so gross.

Wait, butt...

2009-04-12T10:28:00.000-07:00

We've discovered a new pastime on the ship: Judging Butts.

It's quite simple: Nic, Jamie and I sit in a high traffic area, and judge the butts of the people that walk by on a scale of 1 to 12. Why 12, you may be wondering? Well, one butt in particular deserved it. Really, you should've seen it. Yowza.

Admit it, you do it too. Maybe not as formally, but when someone walks away from you, you check out their butt. Next time you do it, assign a number to it. It's loads of fun.

False Advertising

2009-04-10T10:02:00.000-07:00

When I was in NOLA this past weekend, I passed a sign that said:

AMBLING PROBLEM? CALL: 800-555-5555*

Upon further investigation, it actually said "Gambling Problem." The "G" was obscured by some shrubbery. I love the thought of having an ambling problem. Until there's a fire.

*fake number

Standards

2009-04-03T12:20:00.000-07:00

I'm going through major dog withdrawal. I need to find a pet store soon and pet a pooch, or I don't know what I'll do. I miss my parents' dog, Max. He's a big dumb lovable yellow lab who wants nothing more that to play and snuggle. I sure could use some of that right now. In the meantime, I may adopt this adorable little monkey:

We really bonded.

What did people do on sea voyages before laptops and portable DVD players? Were people actually reading? The library on the ship is so desolate... which makes it the best place to hide. I just finished David Sedaris's "When You Are Engulfed in Flames," and picked up "Henry and June" by Anais Nin and "The Hours" by Michael Cunningham. Both of these books have been adapted to movies, so they must be good, right? That's my barometer. I'm so inspired to read because I've seen everything the ship plays on its TV channels at least 10 times. You see, they choose a handful of movies and TV shows every few months, and then play the shit out of them. I've seen enough "Ghost Town," "Mad Money," "Grey's Anatomy," and "Miley Cyrus, Live in Concert" to last my next 2 lifetimes. May I please take this opportunity to point out, if I wasn't trapped in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, I would never have seen any of them. But here I am, so I watch them while choking back the vomit.

Speaking of, all the elevators have their own unique smell. If I was blindfolded and led through all 9 elevators, I would be able to tell you which one I was in simply based on the scent. For example, the left elevator in the middle of the ship smells like fish. Did somebody hide one behind the button panel? It's seriously rank, and I don't understand why it hasn't been investigated and rectified. The middle elevator at the front of the ship smells like old lady perfume. Always. I think it's haunted. When I get in it, I say, "hey! Old Lady! Get out of here! Go to the light! The riches of heaven await you!" She's not interested.

Compliance

2009-03-18T23:21:00.000-07:00

I've been asked by several sources to write something new so they don't have to see a half-naked woman hula hooping every time they check this blog. So, here's a new pic:

The room stewards make animals out of towels sometimes. I love coming back to my room when there's a surprise waiting for me. In case you can't tell, that's a monkey. He has packets of creamer for eyes. Brilliant.

Nuthouse

2009-02-15T07:58:00.000-08:00

This past week, I encountered the craziest people on this ship. Apparently they're offering a package for nutjobs, because they're all here.

Take for instance, this person:

Your eyes do not deceive you: this is a grown woman hula hooping her crazy heart out on the pool deck. For hours. Please note the bathing suit and braids. She is really showing off, strutting her stuff all around the pool, making sure everybody sees her. I really can't tell if she's insane or just on vacation.

I found a new special spot for me to hide out and chill. I've been really desperate for some new things to look at, and I found it on deck 7, the Promenade. I sit in a comfy padded deck chair with my Guatemalan coffee and read chicklit between sending emails on my blackberry. I'm so fortunate because I can send and receive emails at no extra cost. Thank God! I’d freak out if I couldn’t send a random thought to someone and get an immediate response. It would be so alienating! Emailing has become my new texting.

I've learned a valuable lesson about alone time. In order to dissuade anyone from intruding it's important to remove any surrounding chairs. I failed to do that yesterday, and I'll never make that mistake again. So, I'm sitting there, my nose buried in a book, and I hear "You look lonely. Mind if I join you?" Gross. So I look up at the dude that has wandered into my zone and said, very sweetly, "I'm not lonely, but you're welcome to sit there." He immediately goes, "Fine, never mind, jeez, whatever," all petulantly as if I had responded with, "no Fuckface. Why don’t you take your stupid line and shove it up your ass?" Thankfully, as he was saying it, he was practically running away so I didn't have to pretend to be all, "hey, no, don't be like that." Really, guy? I wonder what makes a person act like that. But I love ‘em when they’re walking away, so I chased after him and we made out fiercely.

That last part is not true.

Look, I know how I sound. But it can be really exhausting to be a woman; you’re constantly thwarting weird, unwanted advances. Or maybe I just attract the weird ones. That is a real possibility. I guess it would be worse if no one were interested.

The best crazy people are the old ones. Nic and I had a conversation in the ship’s diner with an older Alabaman couple. It started innocently enough with them describing all the cruises they’ve been on and somehow devolved into them saying some downright racist things about Katrina and New Orleans as Nic and I sat slack jawed. What do they care? They’re old. My favorite old person? The guy that belted out “Jesus Christ, this fucking ship!” in response to the fact that the hallway he wanted to walk down was roped off for maintenance.

But really, he had a point.

Retrospective

2009-02-02T11:50:00.000-08:00

I'd like to take this opportunity to share with you some choice pictures from my blackberry. Some of them are a bit grainy. What do you expect? It's a phone! And my calendar. And access to the internet. Plus it stores all my contacts, organizes tasks, is my main alarm clock, and a myriad of other things. Dammit, blackberry! You're magical. Why don't you take better pictures?

These were all taken in 2008. Since it's February of 2009, it seems like a good time to close the book on last year.

This pic was taken in Chicago from the car I was sitting in waiting for the light to change. Please note the creepy guy staring at the poor woman as she tries to ignore him. Ah, the city. We're all one step away from being attacked.

This pic was taken in Bar Harbor, Maine. Natalie and I had the night off together, so we had cocktails at the water's edge. I love champagne, strawberries, and the fact that I'm lucky enough to afford this luxury. As I travel the world, it becomes more apparent how fortunate we are. I don't want to take any happiness for granted.

Relaxing on the grass in the square in Bar Harbor

I'm pretty sure I took this in Maine. I just love foggy days. They're so romantic. Plus I don't feel guilty if I don't really get outside. Sometimes I feel forced to enjoy the day as hard as possible when it's sunny. Overcast days give me a break.

AVP on Hermosa Beach, CA in June. I'll take this sunny day: lots of hot guys in swimsuits knocking a ball around.

Took this in LA. Can you see the guy balancing his kid on his head? It was nuts!

This note was slipped under my friend's apartment door. Feel free to call this douchebag's number and give him a hard time.

Can you tell that's my face in that cutout? It's not Michelle Monaghan's. I know, we are very similar. I don't know what's worse: starring in a stupid movie or marrying an idiot. Here's hoping I avoid both in real life.

From the set of Public Enemies, shot in Chicago in front of The Biograph theater in my 'hood. Alas, Christian Bale wasn't there. They were choreographing the scene in which Dillinger is shot. It was below freezing in May. Michael Mann was screaming at everyone. OK, that last part isn't true. Rumor has it he was a real piece of work, but I don't want to get slapped with a defamation suit.

Boynton Canyon in Sedona, AZ. It has a reputation as a site of a New Age "vortex" - a sort of energy field emanating from inner earth. Not sure if I subscribe to this bit of modern mysticism, but I did realize there that I spend too much time hating people I don't know. That epiphany has served me pretty well since. Beyond that, it's an amazing hike and a nice place to sit and think.

My favorite view from the NCL Spirit. Santo Tomas de Castilla, Guatemala.

After an incredible storm in Chicago. The city was torn apart! This is just one image from my street. Poor guy. Hope he had insurance.

Navy Pier. Taken from Chicago Shakespeare Theater in November '08. I miss you and hate you and love you, Chicago!

Crazy

2009-01-29T12:47:00.000-08:00

You know that weird feeling when it's like you're outside your body looking in? It doesn't happen too often, but it's so jarring when it does. It's in that moment when you become totally self-aware. I wonder why that happens. Then the questions come flooding in. Who am I? What am I doing here? Why are we alive? It's exhausting.

I'm not suggesting that I'm super deep. It just recently happened and I wasn't too impressed with my answers.

Yikes

2009-01-24T13:33:00.000-08:00

Let me set the mood here:

Right now I'm sitting in one of the ship's lounges while a poor man's version of the Academy Award winning song from "Flashdance" is pumping through the speakers. You know it: it's "What a Feeling." Great song, right? Normally.

The original was performed by Irene Cara. This version, is not. This version, is a huge mistake. When it first started I was sure that the painful warbling was due to some karaoke that had just started. Nope. I'm not sure why they insist on choosing the lesser versions of killer songs to play on the ship. I need answers!

I read Women's Health only to confirm the naughty things I indulge in are OK. For instance, in this last issue they reiterated that a glass of red wine per day does indeed help your heart and contains antioxidants and fiber. I'm waiting for the issue when they bump that number up to 3 per day. Keep your fingers crossed! Also, did you know you should eat 1.5 delicious dark Hershey's kisses per day to reduce the signs of heart disease? Get on it.

Vanity

2009-01-18T10:34:00.000-08:00

I've been exercising a lot on the ship. There's really no excuse not to, since there's nothing but time. I haven't really noticed any significant results, because there's also plenty of time to be decadent. So, I guess the good news is I haven't gotten any fatter.

The major challenge of exercising on a ship is trying not to fall over. When the waves are particularly rough, we get tossed around all over the place. Lunges prove to be pretty difficult, and the incline on the treadmill can change instantly. I think a by-product of all this is that I've developed a pretty strong core trying to keep my balance. Ew. Listen to me. Core.

Speaking of decadence, I just have to tell you what my sister did. It happened 2 months ago and still makes me laugh. I was home in Michigan visiting my family. I had almost drifted off to sleep when my phone rang. It was my sis, calling me from down the hall to ask me a question. She didn't feel like getting out of bed. I think it's safe to say that we have arrived as a human race.

Brrr....

2009-01-15T13:54:00.000-08:00

Chicago is experiencing its coldest weather in eight years!! Sounds like I picked the perfect time to get out of Dodge. It's been raining all week in the Gulf of Mexico. Good thing I didn't pay for this cruise. I'd be pissed!!!

We port in New Orleans every week. It's been a real novelty, running around the French Quarter, eating begnets at Cafe Du Monde, drinking absinthe in the middle of the afternoon. What's that, you ask? Absinthe? Yup. It's delicious, and makes me crazy. I can't believe I didn't get hit by a car on my "walk" back to the boat. I took a picture of it because I am a huge nerd and have to document everything. Who knows? Maybe I'll develop amnesia and these pictures will come in handy as I try to put the pieces of my life back together. Or maybe YOU will, and you'll be super grateful to me for taking so many pictures. You're welcome.

My first good friend that I made on the ship left on Sunday. It sucks. This stupid boat can be a real trap since there's no escape unless I decide to take a swan dive. No thanks. And since there's not anything new to see, everyplace is a haven for memories. Gross. So, I guess the trick is to not get close to anyone. What could possibly go wrong with this plan?

You Know You Want Him

2009-01-11T20:06:00.000-08:00

Oh boy, you guys. The best thing in the world has happened on this ship.

Someone taped up the picture below on their cabin door the week of Christmas. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. Cut to me standing outside their door trying to get a snapshot of it through tears of joy.

I call it "Sexy Christmas Horse." Enjoy.

Bullship

2008-12-18T14:03:00.000-08:00

Blogging is going to be a challenge on the ship. I realize I used to take the internet for granted, Here, it's a treat! You're in luck if you can find a decent signal, and when you do, it's expensive! Wait, a second. Am I complaining??? Forgive me. I'll take a slow expensive internet connection over snow ANY DAY.

This experience is full of contradictions. Like, I live in sheer paradise, but I can't help finding things to bitch about. There are some creature comforts I miss.. like food. Especially:

Grilled cheese sandwiches
Chipotle
Microwave popcorn
Box macaroni and cheese

However, I can have steak and lobster, fresh fruit, decadent desserts, sushi, and all kinds of unique meals, for free. What's my problem? Come on, Sarah. Get it together. Chipotle is just tacos. You can actually get real ones in Mexico.

How sweet is this? A married couple approached me last week and handed me a bag. Inside was this adorable little painted bobble head snail (they're all the rage in Guatemala). They saw me laughing at it when we were in port, so they bought it for me. It's my first random gift from "fans." It made me realize that every week, almost 2000 people see our shows on Tuesday night, and the rest of the week, I'm recognizable... and trapped aboard a vessel in the middle of the sea with them. Weird.

I know, I know...

2008-12-04T15:14:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's been awhile since my last post. I've been doing stuff.

The thing that stands out the most is that I'm writing this from a cruise ship. I'll be living on this thing for the next 4 months. The gods of Second City have made it possible to have a job at which I get to do some pretty darn funny shows a couple of hours a week with some truly great folks, and spend the rest of my time snorkeling and drinking out of pineapples. I'm feeling pretty grateful right about now.

Except for the fact that every time the door to the internet room opens, I'm hit with the sounds of a slightly off rendition of the best of Whitney Houston. All at once, I'm drifting on a lonely sea... me too, Whitney. Me too.

Naw, man. This is awesome. Hurray!!!

Fall-se Hopes

2008-10-05T17:31:00.000-07:00

Fall is my favorite season hands down. The crisp smells of leaves and fireplaces make me giddy. In fact, when I was walking outside today I caught myself grinning like an idiot. I even let a little verbal "Oh!" escape my throat, after getting a particularly perfect whiff, before I could stop myself. Thank God I was the only one within earshot.

The sense of smell is so powerful. It's pretty well known that smells have a way of transporting us back to certain memories. I had a rather vivid moment the other day while sitting in Starbucks. I was killing time reading and enjoying a yummy Pumpkin Spice latte, while Rufus Wainwright sang over the speakers. Suddenly, a strange feeling washed over me. I felt exactly as I did 3 years ago when I moved here, when I would go down the street to my then neighborhood Starbucks to get a Pumpkin Spice latte while listening to Rufus Wainwright. At that time I was feeling lonely because I had just moved here, but also excited for what the future held. It really made me realize how much time has passed and how I've grown. It was really cool! I wanted the feeling to last, so I kept staring at a certain spot on the chair in front of me, until it faded about a minute later - the feeling, not the chair.

It made me wonder if we could use our senses to travel through time. I really thought I was on to something until I remembered a little movie called "Somewhere in Time." For those of you who don't know it, please do us all a favor and Netflix* it. SIT is a 1980 time travel romance, and it's just ridiculous in the best way. It was filmed on location at and around the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, MI. This made me feel extra cool as a kid because my family would go there in the summers, so I pretty much felt like I owned the movie.

The plot is basically this: in 1972, Christopher Reeve's character, Richard, is approached by an elderly woman who places a pocket watch in his hand while pleading with him to "come back" to her. Cut to eight years later, Reeve visits the Grand Hotel and is captivated by a photograph of a mysterious, beautiful young woman. Reeve discovers that she is Jane Seymour's character, Elise, a famous early 20th-century stage actress. As the mystery unfolds, he learns that she was the elderly woman who gave him the pocket watch.

Reeve is obsessed! He must go back in time to find her! So, of course, he learns about auto-suggestive time travel from an old college professor of his. To accomplish this feat of self-hypnosis, he must remove all things from sight that are related to the current time. After a few tries, his absolute faith allows him to journey back through time. He drifts off to sleep and awakens in the year 1912. The next 80 minutes are pure love story,

Spoiler alert!! Don't read the italics if you haven't seen the movie and are planning to!

The whole thing is ruined when he pulls a 1979 penny out of his pocket. The reminder thrusts him back into present time! What an idiot! He had one job to do: "remove all things from sight that are related to the current time," the professor couldn't have been more clear. Luckily he dies from a broken heart (or starvation, I never really figured it out) shortly after his return. Now he and Jane Seymour can be together forever, in a place beyond time itself. Gag... and sigh.

So, the real question here is: can I use the scent of my pumpkin spice latte to travel through time? Will I find my own Elise? Or Edwin, since I'm not into chicks? I'll keep trying, and will post my progress here. Can someone please start a fund to help me pay for all those lattes I'm gonna need? Those bitches are expensive!

Of course, let's not forget this is also the season of my birthday. October 10th for anyone who's keeping track. That also probably has something to do with my love for this time of year. Who doesn't love their birthday? A Dummy, that's who.

*with all the product placement in this entry, I better be getting a hefty check from - one more time - Starbucks and Netflix

By the way...

2008-09-10T22:13:00.000-07:00

This is a real store in Ellsworth, ME.

It made me laugh so hard!!! Sigh. So good. I refuse to grow up.

Ketchup... Catsup... Catch Up

2008-09-07T11:24:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, if I haven't fully expressed my love and devotion to the show Law and Order, I apologize. I really dropped the ball there. Look, I realize it's not the most brilliant thing out there, but I feel safe with it. It's formulaic and never lets me down. Also, it allows me to drift into a peaceful nap right around the 40 minute mark. That's my routine, and I love it. So get off my back. Ha! Nobody's on my back, guys. Wouldn't that just be silly? Everything's cool.

I have a point. It's this: Dick Wolf (the creator of Law and Order) apparently lives in Bar Harbor, or thereabouts. I was THIS CLOSE to becoming the next ADA, if only he'd come to see ImprovAcadia! Why doesn't he support the arts? I was right there, and he blew it.

I feel like I was in Maine 5 years ago... but it's actually been only 10 days. Not that I've been doing anything interesting to pass the time, it just seems to go faster here. My life is slipping away!!

I think it's important to keep shaking up your life. I get bored very easily with my surroundings and repetitive activities; my grandmother calls it "itchy feet." Luckily, I have some adventures coming up. More on that later.

Going to a new location to live and perform for a month was perfect. I don't necessarily feel settled in Chicago. I actually haven't found a place that feels like home yet. So, the search goes on. And in the meantime, I'm open to experiencing things like this:

This is the top of Champlain Mountain. I climbed up there, and loved every step. We also went whale watching. "Majestic" is a funny word to me, but here I mean it without irony. These creatures were, well, majestic. I go through my days so sure that everything I do is the most important thing happening in the world. Not even close. Here's a picture of a whale's tail. It doesn't do it justice, but try to imagine 300 people on a boat collectively gasping.

Here's some more choice pics:

This is how I spent August. Climbing mountains, eating lobster, swimming in pristine lakes, and doing super fun shows. I was really fortunate to be playing with truly talented people. It was a real ball buster, doing two shows a night, six days a week. An improv boot camp, if you will. Bring it on!

On a completely different note, I've decided to become more girl-y. Being independent and well-adjusted is getting me nowhere. It's pretty boring, if you want to know the truth. And I think you do. So, from here on out I'm going to be more emotional and needy. This should be a fun social experiment. I can't wait to see how everybody deals with this... and, go! Why haven't you called yet?!

I'm back!

2008-08-30T10:34:00.000-07:00

Hello beautiful Chicago! I'm so happy to see you!

I had a fantastic time in Maine. Check back soon for the full story.

This takes precedence:

You guys. This is not a bit. I completely missed the ball. I'm an athlete!!!

Bye Bye!

2008-07-29T08:58:00.001-07:00

OK, everybody. I'm outta here for awhile. I'm off to perform at ImprovAcadia until the end of August. It's in Bar Harbor, Maine, which is next to Acadia National Park. People who like the outdoors tell me it's supposed to be some beautiful paradise. It looks like this:

I'm taking my bike. I'm pretty stoked. See you in a month.

2008-07-24T21:53:00.001-07:00

The auto-complete function on my Blackberry wants to spell "diet" as "dirt."

It's right. My Blackberry is brilliant.

Past Times

2008-07-22T15:38:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to minor league baseball game in Lansing, MI. The famed Lansing Lugnuts were playing the Grand Rapids Whitecaps. I won't get too into the game details, I'm sure you read all about it on ESPN.com.

Truth be told, it was a fun game, but the real entertainment had nothing to do with baseball. Imagine if you will, special crowd members catching rubber chickens in a trash can launched from a giant slingshot as old ladies in the stands take their final swigs from Fosters Oil Cans, babies dressed to the nines in Lugnuts jerseys, a kickass fireworks display, at which said babies did not cry. They come from strong stock in Lansing!

Equally entertaining? The woman I passed in Belmont Harbor yesterday, kicking herself in the head repeatedly. I'm pretty sure she thought she was stretching, but she was just kicking herself over and over again. In the head. Awesome.

On the romance front, according to my grandmother, if I wait much longer to get married it's likely I'll marry someone that already has kids. I told her we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Hermit the Freak

2008-06-26T20:11:00.000-07:00

The guy that lives in the apartment below me is SO WEIRD!

Every time I walk by his door I hear the oddest sounds: a cat mewing at the top of its little cat lungs, big band music, and what has to be a Dot Matrix printer.

I've lived here for over a year, and I've seen him once... when he was out front walking his cat on a leash. That experience must have been particularly scary, because I haven't seen him since.

Other proof he lives here include the multitude of packages he receives daily and the landlord relaying a complaint of noise when we had THREE people over. That, a party does not make. And they were gone by 9:30pm. What a tool.

I'm not quite sure why he's not living with his mother. I'd slip a note under his door to suggest it, but I don't want him to go into a seizure over the threat of communicating with a human.

Overstock.com

2008-06-22T16:01:00.000-07:00

The following was posted on the Chicago Improv Network today:

Comedic Caucasian Male Actor Needed

Wherever are they going to find one of those in Chicago??? And don't take him away from our community when you find him, poster. We'll be hard pressed to find another one!

Me Weekly

2008-06-18T16:10:00.000-07:00

I visited L.A. last week for the first time in 13 years. After only one week, I'm pretty sure it's all about me. I love a place that feeds that monster. Get ready...

I won't bore you with all the fun stuff I did... suffice it to say, I was devastated to come back to Chicago. I also won't bore you with all the celebrity sightings I had... because there weren't any! Not a one! I'm SO disappointed. Then my friend Paul pointed out that as long as I'm looking for a celebrity, I won't recognize the one that's already in the room, AKA me. That's sweet, but total bullshit. I really want to see for myself how the stars are just like us! And to top it off my friend Erica saw Sarah Jessica Parker on a trip to NYC last week and Jude Law here in Chicago at the Peninsula today.

Why not me??? Grrrr....

Laureate in Rags

2008-05-31T10:44:00.000-07:00

I think I may be the jerk sometimes. The evidence is piling up.

Recently in Bucktown I was scared and grossed out by a homeless man that approached me... until he offered me a sheet of his poetry for one dollar. So I bought it... then I read it... and it was beautiful. Shame on me.

Eau de vie

2008-05-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

Here's a game I like to play on the bus: it's called "Who Smells Like *BLANK*." The answers are wide open. I have found that pee is the most popular smell.

How are so many people wetting themselves? Or, what do I know, maybe its the hot new scent at Bath & Body Works. Piss Body Spray. Congrats B&B! It's a top seller!!

Also, my Women's Health magazine is giving me the creeps about bacteria and bugs. Did you know "we unintentionally eat up to two pounds of bugs annually???" That's way high. I estimated maybe two individual ones per year, not two POUNDS!!! Also, "we transfer 10,000 bacteria from a mouth to a bowl of dip when someone double dips three to six times????" You're not the only one at the party! Make the most of your one dip per chip!

I like to be informed, but I think for info like that, ignorance is bliss!!

So, the question on everyone's mind is: am I a germ freak, or simply one of the good guys, AKA clean and piss-free? Only time will tell...

2008-05-21T20:23:00.000-07:00

Some days I feel like a real bad ass. Today is one of them.

I can't put my finger on why I feel this way, but I'm gonna enjoy the ride.

Tragic

2008-05-11T17:31:00.000-07:00

There's not much on TV this Sunday afternoon...

So I decided to watch "Saving Private Ryan" starting somewhere in the middle. When it got to the scene where Giovanni Ribisi dies, I had to change the channel. It's a heart-wrenching scene and why put myself through that again?

The only other semi-palatable movie on was "The First Wives Club." It was the final scene where the women sing "You Don't Own Me." It's just awful. So, I switched back to "Saving Private Ryan." But that was too much, so I switched back to FWC. Then that was too much, so I switched back to SPR. Guess I'd rather watch a painful death scene than the painful, weak out of "First Wives Club." Ouch.

How's that for timely burns? Ha! Take it, shitty movie from 1996!

I wish....

2008-05-05T21:04:00.000-07:00

I've had some thoughts over the last month that I don't think require long explanations; so I thought I'd list them here. Keep in mind, a lot of these are the things I force myself not to say in the moment. So while they may seem jerky, remember that I nearly exploded keeping them inside. And that, my friends, is what makes a lady. Sigh.

I spend too much time hating people I don't know.

I'd love to pull a gun on someone that's being a jerk without suffering the consequences. I think if that person pooped their pants out of fear, they'd probably get humble and turn into a nicer person.

I'd love to say "I don't care" to the person telling me about their upcoming surgery

I'm so grossed out by the animated bacteria on commercials for cleaning supplies and medicine! It's disgusting! I hate those products for making me feel like that, and so I refuse to buy what they're selling!

What will my celebrity cause be? Darfur is taken, and Noah Wylie has already claimed the polar bears. What's left? I think I'm going to fund research on how to keep puppies as puppies forever.

We get it, pop culture photographers! Enough with the "aw shucks" shot of the quirky actor with his hand behind his head. This image is supposed to say, "I don't know, I'm just me I guess." How can that be when everyone else that's your type is doing it?

I wish I could say "that sucks" to a terrible idea. Especially when the person with said idea insists that it's not when I delicately pooh pooh it.

Any song that has the lyrics, "Life is..." automatically sucks

Stop trying so hard.

When I'm a serial killer in a movie, I'm going to leave the list of names of the people I'm killing tacked to a corkboard above my desk. That way the detectives that discover that list upon forcefully entering my vacated apartment will be sure to apprehend me in the nick of time. They'll know where to go because I've crossed out the names of the people I've already killed sequentially. Let me acknowledge that normally, commenting on this over-used technique in movies would seem hacky to me; we all know that's stupid... if I hadn't just seen it on a CSI rerun. Yikes.

I have more, but they're mostly along the lines of just wishing people would just act the way I want them to. I can't be the only one who feels this way.

I'm officially uncool

2008-04-03T22:13:00.000-07:00

Apparently there's a musical group called "Danity Kane." Danity Kane is an American pop and R&B girl group signed to Bad Boy Records, first established in 2005. They were formed on the second installment of MTV's Making the Band reality television series. All of this happened without my knowledge. What the hell?

When they were mentioned on the radio today I heard "Danny Kaye." For all you heathens, Danny Kaye is one of the world's best known comedians. His most high-profile projects were as the guy that wasn't Bing Crosby in White Christmas, host of the Academy Awards, and finally guest-starring in one single episode as Dr. Burns on The Cosby Show.

At first I cringed when I realized my mistake. It didn't take long to figure out... Danny Kay is long-deceased, so he'd have a hard time giving a shout out to Chicago on The Mix at 4pm. It was at this moment I officially crossed into Grandma-land. I mean, who mistakes a hot girl-band with a dead comedian?

How did this happen? I have subscriptions to Entertainment Weekly and US Weekly! That's two sources of super important information!! Weekly! I just can't keep up. I'm gonna go buy myself some Werther's Originals and start giving my family members a hard time about how they never visit me.

Renovation

2008-03-31T20:30:00.001-07:00

I'm jealous of the woman I saw meeting with her interior designer over coffee on a Monday afternoon. Swatches splayed out all over the table, words like "fabulous," "pearlized accents," and "Mountbatten pink" being tossed around, my pashmina draped delicately over my shoulders... How do I get that life?

Help Them

2008-03-25T16:24:00.000-07:00

I just saw a commercial on Bravo that really touched me.

It was a montage of different shots of wildlife in danger of extinction. This montage was set to Richard Marx's "Right Here Waiting."

I don't think that's what he had in mind when he wrote that song. And I don't think the commercial is supposed to make me laugh.

You Can Do It!

2008-03-12T11:53:00.000-07:00

A word of advice to the ladies:

Be nice to the pretty girl in the room. I know it's hard, and goes against our natural tendencies, but nobody said life was gonna be easy.

When you're mean to her, you expose that soft little jealous underbelly of yours, and it makes YOU even LESS attractive. Now, I know you're assuming she's going to be mean because she's pretty, but did it ever occur that you get what you project? If you're a bitch, she's probably gonna be one right back. She's protecting herself! Get tough, ladies. Chances are she's pretty cool, and hoping you're not going to be mean.

I'm glad we had this talk.

Smoke 'Em Out

2008-03-06T11:14:00.000-08:00

Since Illinois went smoke free in January, I've gotten less used to cigarette smoke. I love it. It's like I'm a kid again, and my parents are protecting me from harmful things. I'm never around it, so when grandpa smokes, it stands out as an odd thing.

I got into a cab today that reeked of smoke. The driver said, "it's OK if you want to smoke in here." "Clearly," I replied, "No thanks. I'll just chew on this lingering secondhand."

Cabbies are becoming more lenient as drunk people pour out of bars, desperate for a cig. Well, Cabbie, I guarantee I'll tip you more for providing a clean environment for me than Drunkie will for letting him bend the rules. In my experience, drunk folks feel entitled to special treatment. I just want to not sneeze from smoke allergies and stink like your stale cigarette after I get out of the cab. In fact, I can refer to my Passenger Bill of Rights and Responsibilities right here on the back of the seat. As a passenger I have the right and responsibility to not smoke while riding in the cab. As a cab driver, you have the responsibility to have some balls and tell your customers no.

That's Cold

2008-02-29T01:56:00.000-08:00

Break-ups are rarely easy. But in this case, it's the best decision.

I'm sorry, Winter. It's over.

I can't take any more of this abusive relationship. Every time I walk outside you slap me in the face; I cringe when you touch me. I have to wear long sleeves, lest the neighbors talk; I hate to leave the house. How am I supposed to live my life with you in my way?

And I'm not gonna get all sentimental come next December like I do every year, when you come crawling back all clean and new and beautiful, bearing Christmas gifts. No present could ever make up for the way you've treated me over the past few months.

You're a real jerk, Winter. Hit the skids.

Famous by Association

2008-02-14T23:12:00.001-08:00

Mercy Date was on TV! Twice! It was on Image Union: First Dates on Valentine's Day and the subsequent Sunday.

The following was on the station's website:

"Love is in the air, as Image Union celebrates Valentine s Day with a look at first dates. Michael Cera finds out that meeting a date's parents can be down right scary, in Darling, Darling. And in Mercy Date, the tables are turned as one woman finds out the truth behind her blind date set-up.
Now celebrating its 30th anniversary, Image Union keeps evolving – and expanding – to present new, innovative work from filmmakers in Chicago and around the globe. This season is shaping up to be one of our best ever, with everything from dark comedy to Oscar-winning animation, and first-time efforts from promising new filmmakers to award-winning shorts with plenty of star power. And Image Union is still the place for documentaries, experimental work, international films and the best local stuff we can find."

"Some of the most vibrant work in the field of independent video and filmmaking."
— Chicago Tribune

... not too shabby!

Also, I'm finally comfortable enough to announce that I've been cast in the Second City Music Improv House Ensemble. It's all singprov all the time. I'm Wayne Brady!

I had my fourth show on Sunday, and it's going great. I'm so impressed with every member of the cast! They're all talented and I haven't caught a whiff of ego. Whew. I think I may be OK at this stuff. Come see it.

Not again!

2008-02-09T21:45:00.000-08:00

When you use the wipers, why does the entire windshield get clean except the spot right in front of your face?

It never fails. Doesn't matter what car you're in, what month it is, if it's raining, snowing, or the tires on the semi in front of you keep splashing up road moisture.

I especially love it when that spot freezes.

Cut to me scrunched over, peering around that stupid spot. It mocks me while I try not to die on the highway because I CAN'T SEE!!

I'll pay 10 million dollars for the car that doesn't have this problem. It'll be a miracle.

The Creepy Edition

2008-02-06T23:43:00.000-08:00

I went to CostCo last week to buy a 98-pack of toilet paper and snack on samples of mashed potatoes in Dixie Cups. On my journey around the Warehouse of Excess, I was horrified to see this:

Caskets creep me out; not because of horror movies, it just seems like a ridiculous thing to put a dead body in. What do you need silk lining and a little pillow for after you're dead? Waste of money. So, I'm officially giving the OK to instead go to the next aisle, buy that jumbo plastic tub of pretzels and deposit my remains into it. Then take the money you were spending on a casket (because Lord knows I'm not paying for it) and throw a kickass party.

This way, everyone can snack on pretzels while they're all reminiscing over how amazing I was. I should be an event planner.

Progress?

2008-01-29T21:23:00.000-08:00

I took a bartending certification test online today; in particular, it was the RESPONSIBLE SERVING COURSE. This is when I remind and/or inform all of you that I have a Masters degree in Theater History and Acting Theory. But that's neither here nor there. Mama gots to supplement her income before Paul Thomas Anderson calls and/or she falls back on teaching.

Before one takes the test, you have the option of flipping through electronic flashcards pertaining to the information contained on the exam. I came across some real gems, but the following had me on the floor:

"Guidelines for checking ID:
In addition to examining height, hairline and chin shape, look for the following:
Lack of beard in young males..."

OK, that all makes sense...

"...Lack of pelvic or breast development..."

Oh. Um, I'll take their word on it. I don't need some dude telling me to get my face out of his pelvis... again.

"... Large barrettes or bows worn in the hair..."

Really? Who wears those except preteen British girls in sailor dresses?

"...Extreme trends favored by younger generation, for example, "punk" look or bizarre haircut..."

Well, that doesn't seem fair. I know plenty of punks with terrible haircuts in their 20s that can and NEED to drink. They're called actors. They're poor and depressed because they're doing free shows that no one sees in Donny's Skybox.

"...Acid washed jeans, denim mini skirts, non matching earrings, earrings only worn in one ear, high top sneakers with colorful or no shoe laces, and wearing multiple layers of clothing."

So, I guess tacky dressers trapped in 1985 aren't allowed to drink. How are people that live in rural communities supposed to tie one on? What else do they have?

I'm now armed with the pertinent information I need to save the youth of Illinois from the perils of underage drinking. Look out, punk kids! That boombox on your shoulder is a dead giveaway! Now pick up that cardboard you're breakdancing on and moonwalk on home!

Oh boy...

2008-01-15T19:52:00.000-08:00

Few things make me happier than watching the 20-something paralegals and CPAs of our fair city attempt to do the cardio hip hop class at my gym. It's priceless. Sexy faces and awkward bodies. Hilarious.

Just to clarify: I'm not in the hip hop class. I'm on the outside of the glass waiting for my cardio kickboxing class to start, so some other cynical chick can judge me. And believe me, there's plenty to judge. You should really see me pretending to kick ass. I believe my own hype!

Resolution

2008-01-10T20:33:00.000-08:00

An illustration of why I can't seem to lose that last 5 pounds:

I glanced over to my nightstand last night, and this is what I saw. Allow me to be your docent:

See the jar of peanut butter? It's sitting next to the spoon I had just been using to scoop the delicious goodness directly into my mouth. That shiny tinfoil is the only evidence of the Christmas chocolate Santa I had dipped into the peanut butter because, apparently pure peanut butter isn't decadent enough.

Please note that this arrangement is resting on a book titled, "The Workout," by Gunnar Peterson, fitness guru to the stars.

I'm using it as a placemat.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-29T22:04:00.000-08:00

Meet the luckiest dog in the world: Maximus.

Max lives with my parents in Michigan. In this picture, he's chomping down on his brand new Christmas present. That humongous thing is a bone. Can you stand it? What a spoiled brat. How will he eat it, you're probably wondering?

Like this:

He's doing it!!!

Cinematic Horror

2007-12-15T18:20:00.000-08:00

When I'm a famous movie star...

I hope I never have to do a scene where I accidentally walk in on a potential love interest coming out of the shower, or something equally staged, to show off his rock hard abs. "But he's my friend, just my friend! Who knew he had rock hard abs? Hmmm.... maybe we should get married! Do you think he can hear my heart pounding through the bathroom door I just quickly slammed shut and am now leaning against?" I don't think I could seriously pull off the requisite surprised, then embarrassed, then thoughtful look that follows such an encounter. Any smart actress that swallows her pride and comes off accessible and believable in that dreck deserves two Oscars.

I also hope I'm never handed a script that relies on the protagonist singing karaoke to show her straight-laced character loosening up. Gag. You know how it goes: she does so reluctantly at first, but then by the end of the song her shirt is open and she's rocking out with a fabulous voice. The song that's been chosen for her by her "crazy" friend that secretly signed her up is probably "I Will Survive" or "Lady Marmalade."

But honestly, I'm not above singing cliche karaoke songs in the flesh. I just wish I'd been the first one in a film to do it. Let's go sing karaoke! Who's with me?

So close!

2007-12-10T12:37:00.000-08:00

Sometimes this business of show really drives me nuts.

Last Wednesday I had two callbacks for commercials, one for ComEd and the other for Donato's Pizza. I walked out feeling like I rocked them both. Sure enough, I got a call from my agents checking my availability for both commercials... both shooting on the same day. Son of a bitch. But I remained optimistic. I mean, out of two I'm going to book one, right? Wrong.

I was released from both. Normally I don't like to broadcast my disappointments, but this was a new one. I guess there's something to be said for getting as far as I did, that side of it doesn't escape me. I mean, of all the people that auditioned I was seriously considered for both. But it's almost more frustrating to be that close and have it taken away.

So, I have decided to boycott pizza and electricity. I encourage you all to do the same.

Post-Thanksgiving

2007-12-04T23:33:00.000-08:00

I try to be grateful for the small things.

I don't wear glasses, so nothing fogs up in my eyes when I step inside on a snowy day. Today I watched a guy get out of the blizzard and onto the bus; his glasses were totally cloudy. What a pain in the ass that must be! The very device that helps him see was out of order!

I equate this annoyance to when my hair gets trapped under the strap of my purse. I get so mad at that purse! How dare it pull my hair! I'll bet he was as irrationally angry at his glasses as I get at my purse.

Or maybe he's not crazy.

Choices

2007-11-21T13:30:00.000-08:00

In legal news, Carmen Electra is suing the NWWL for breach of contract, negligence and unfair business practices, claiming that she was never paid her agreed-upon price for a handful of live event appearances.

For those of you who have lives, NWWL stands for the Naked Womens' Wrestling League.

Personally, I'm shocked and dismayed. If you can't trust the people that trade in naked women wrestling, who can you trust?

In other ridiculous news involving bimbos, Kristy Swanson was recently invited to tour the CIA facilities and have a sit-down with the organization. The visit hopes to smooth over relations between Hollywood and the government agency, as the CIA doesn't appreciate the negative way they are portrayed in movies and television. WHAT????

If I'd known Kristy Swanson had connections to the CIA, I wouldn't have been such a snot to her on the set of "Early Edition." You remember that show, right? No? It filmed in Chicago. OK, how about "Forbidden Secrets?" It aired on USA. Jeez! OK, what about her star-making turn as "Christie Boner" from the hit film "Dude, Where's my Car?" Uh-oh. Well, of course you heard about when Swanson's current boyfriend Lloyd Eisler's wife kicked her ass in Canada? I suppose forging relations with a C-list celebrity with an assault charge is cool with our government, as long as she was booked in a different country.

Wise choice, CIA. If you think Kristy Swanson has any influence in Hollywood, I'm even more concerned about your ability to obtain and analyze information about foreign governments and corporations, and then ADVISE public policymakers based on that information; or whatever it is you actually do.

This entry was created at my own risk. I'm now on a list somewhere.

Oh, Ladies

2007-11-15T00:24:00.000-08:00

My new distraction is watching marathons of the Showtime series "Weeds." As soon as it arrives via Netflix in my mailbox, I hunker down with plenty of gummy bear-ish sustenance and turn off my phone. It's fantastic. I'm addicted. Now, don't get all excited and tighten your shoulders in anticipation, this entry will not be a critique of the show, much as I'm sure you're drooling to hear what I think. It is a comment of something that has bothered me for years: being a super sassy female only works on TV.

Like most normal people, I gleaned a lot of my perceptions on life from watching television. My favorite female characters have always been the strong, willful, funny and spunky types. I decided at a very young age that acting like that suited me the best, and over the years of practice my personality developed into just that, for better or worse. (I have plenty of negative traits, but we'll focus on those at a later date. I'll probably be drunk, and you'll have to tell me I'm crazy and list the reasons why I'm awesome. I won't believe you, but I'll keep passive aggressively asking for compliments. It's gonna be fun)

In "Weeds," Mary Louise Parker joins the ranks of these fearless female characters. Just this past Sunday I watched her fire sassy comments left and right, and every guy ate it up. She pushed them away and they came running back for more. When it hit me, I sat straight up in my bed like a shot, my brain screaming, "Wait a minute! It doesn't work that way! Men don't respond to that positively! They hate it!" Because when you boil it down, she's just being a bitch. A clever bitch, but a bitch nonetheless.

We must save the young girls of today! There's a new generation of bitches being cultivated in front of the TV this very moment! It's too late for me, but save the little ones! While you're doing that, I'll be watching my favorite new show.

Lucky Girl

2007-11-11T18:44:00.000-08:00

I have an amazing mother. She does all the classic things we expect mothers to do: bake treats, proofread papers, sew buttons, etc. But that's just the tip of the iceberg.

It came to my attention recently that something else she does is directly linked to my high self-esteem. In addition to being super supportive and giving feedback on various normal things,
she compliments me for nothing. For example:

Me: "Hey, the sun just came out."

Mother: "Good eye."

This exchanged actually happened last weekend. Now, we all know it doesn't take a Mensa member to see the difference between sun and no sun. But for that moment, I've really done something wonderful. It took me thirty years to actually hear her do that, but since that second of realization, I hear it all the time. And I love it. There's not one conversation we have where she doesn't say "good job." I'm very lucky.

Good job, Mom.

A True Fan

2007-10-29T14:52:00.001-07:00

Seriously, how cool is this?

I had a birthday a couple of weeks ago, and my brother Brian wore this shirt through dinner at Via Carducci and drinks at Easy Bar. I didn't even tell him to do it!

It's nice to see that he's developed into such an intelligent, conscientious young man. As an older sister, I can't help but take total credit for that.

I'd like to point out that his friend Tom recently expressed utter shock and awe (slight exaggeration) that I am older that Brian. I'd like to think it's because of my fresh, rosy-cheeked complexion, but I think it's because I don't own a condo.

Chicken

2007-10-23T20:56:00.000-07:00

Oh boy, do I love mini-sandwiches.

Tonight I feasted on a mini BBQ pork, a mini chicken salad, and a mini chicken pesto. Not only are they delicious, they enable my commitment issues. Oh, the variety! I mean, why be forced to choose one sandwich, when I can have a bunch of minis??? I'm a sandwich slut!

Don't worry, the sandwiches showed me proof of recent STD and salmonella testing.

Maturity

2007-10-18T12:32:00.000-07:00

I have a major problem with authority.

Well, not all authority. I sure do like you, potential boss or director that has googled me. I'm a dream to work with. I'm talking about silly authority, like a vice-principal that gives detention to a student wearing a skirt slightly above the knee. Anyone who went to private school understands what I'm talking about. Clearly I'm still harboring resentment.

As I get older, this trait is becoming more pronounced. I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up in prison, or at least some kind of holding cell until whatever the situation is resolved.

It's physically painful to stop myself from mocking airport security. Every time they question my 5 ounces Oil of Olay lotion* I bite my tongue from exclaiming, "Yes! You've thwarted my evil plan to rub 5 ounces of face cream into the eyes of the pilot as I hijack this plane going to Minneapolis! Not 3 ounces! 3 won't do! It must be 5!!!" Idiots. Nice uniform.

Intellectually, I know they're just doing their job, and I sincerely thank those people in the position of keeping us free and alive. But get your mitts off my stuff; and wipe that self-important look off your face. There's only room for one smirk in this town, and that's mine!

*Yes, ladies. That's the secret to my child-like visage. Don't go selling out Walgreens' supply!

Bomb Shots

2007-09-11T01:55:00.000-07:00

I hadn't been out on the town in awhile, so I decided to make my way back in this past Saturday night. I made some discoveries along the way:

Apparently chest hair is making a comeback. I saw enough tufts of chest hair peeking out of button down shirts to last me through the winter. I'm all set, guys. Thanks.

Bacardi and Diet Coke tastes like gutter water - or what I assume gutter water tastes like. I used to drink that stuff like my life depended on it, and I thought I'd try it again for old time's sake. Gross. But you know I had 4. Low carb, and all. Soak it up while it lasts, Barcardi and Diet! People are eating bread again.

I can't believe this never occurred to me before, but it struck me that one person buying a round of shots for a group of people is pretty ridiculous. Especially when it's 8 people. Especially when O-Bombs cost $7.50 each before tip. Especially when he barely knows me. Oh, I'll take it. I'm no fool.

The cab that took me home had a TV in the backseat. I watched clips of Conan on the way home. I can't believe we need to have TVs in cars. I know it's a way to advertise, but where do we draw the line? I'm kidding. It was awesome. It was the most fun I had all night.

On the career front, I've had the pleasure of participating in some pretty interesting projects. This one takes the cake. Go check it out:

www.torkrevolution.com.

Silliness.

My Ears!

2007-08-16T11:02:00.001-07:00

Hey, Chicago Air & Water Show:

Please be louder.

Milestones

2007-08-15T23:17:00.000-07:00

I've been called "ma'am" twice in the past week.

I guess it's official.

My life is over.

ScentSational

2007-07-25T21:25:00.000-07:00

There's a phenomenon that must be addressed. It occurs every summer in Chicago without fail. It is the arrival of intense aromas, or "smell pockets," as my friend Lyndsay likes to call them. I realize that has a negative connotation; let me qualify.

Sometimes I get lucky! If the wind is blowing in the right direction, whiffs of chocolate from the Blommer Chocolate Company in the West Loop permeate downtown. Yum! On the street where I live are some really beautiful gardens. Yes, you "My Fair Lady" fans, there are lilac trees in that heart of town, and in addition I'm greeted by the smell of freshly cut grass and gardenia whenever I step out my front door; and I'll always welcome a sniff of Starbucks, greasy food at The Taste or a freshly showered dude - not really a city smell, but one I enjoy nonetheless.

Now, for the other side of the coin: let's be honest, most of the time, I'm not so lucky. Especially in the summer: The city heats up, and LOOK OUT! Every other step on major streets I'm hit by a wall of cigarette smoke, overflowing garbage, bum and Cubs fan piss, and every so often, something undefinable. I don't know what it is, but I don't have the urge to investigate. I find myself holding my breath, but I'm grossed out the whole time because that intake of breath was of something horrific. I'm holding a disgusting stench in my lungs, but the alternative is to keep breathing and smell it many times. It's like I'm eating it. I just gagged a little bit thinking about it.

On another topic, I was watching a show on VH1 titled "Celebrity Bad Habits." It's pictures of celebrities committing social gaffes like making funny faces while eating, over-the-top PDAs, and broadcasting their junk to the nation. I am so screwed. I know I'm gonna end up on one of these shows when I'm famous. I'm so unprepared for lurking paparazzi! I have to admit, it's cringe-inducing entertainment. I love it. However, those pundits have got to go. Their snide quips are no good. I would knock that shiznit out of the park. VH1! Hire me to be a jerk! I do it anyways, you may as well pay me for it!

On yet another topic, apparently the many summertime festivals in Chicago include The Chicago Short Comedy Video and Film Festival. My good buddy Adrian and Popcorn Island Productions submitted the short "Mercy Date" to the festival and it was accepted. Remember my post earlier this year? Go back and check it out, lazy bones. It's the one with all the stills. If you don't believe me, go to:

www.witsendshorts.com/festival.html

And... I guess we placed 2nd out of 41 films. Not too shabby. I have no idea what it means, but I like it. If you want to see it, go to:

improvidate.com/improvidate/multiMedia/multiMedia.html

I've never actually seen it, because I can't bear to watch myself, but I've heard some good feedback. I dunno. It was fun to make.

The Cold Shoulder

2007-07-11T23:25:00.000-07:00

Most folks who know me are aware of a pretty significant scar I have on my right shoulder. People don't generally know how to react when they see it. I like to think that they're fascinated by the one part of me that isn't gorgeous, but let's not get delusional.

A complete stranger actually said this to me last Friday:

"Did you get shot or something?"

Wow. So, of course I said yes.*

- I shall now refer to the stranger as "Doo-doo Head." "DDH" for short -
DDH totally believed me. He asked for more details, and I dramatically whispered I couldn't talk about it. DDH then said, "well, we're glad you're alive," to which I replied "so are my parents."

What a DDH.

I'm sure it was his clever way of making conversation, but guess what? The truth is, I really don't want to talk about it. Scars don't generally come from happy, painless experiences, and sorry Mr. Standing Behind Me in an Elevator, it's none of your business. Let's talk about why your girlfriend dumped you instead. See?

I think my second favorite is when they touch it while saying, "what's that?" Especially when we've just met. It doesn't feel good. It hurts. It's invasive. It's like me putting my finger up your butt, and not all gentle-like. It's not appropriate. If you get the urge, punch yourself in the throat.

I guess I'm just amazed that someone could be so insensitive. I guess we can't all be gracious! Poor slobs.

*I wasn't shot. I'm not that cool.

Wow, where have you been?

2007-06-30T23:24:00.000-07:00

OK, confession time:

I sleep-eat. Like sleep-walking, except my motivation to walk is to eat. My first recollection of this pasttime is at my parents' house. Apparently I walked downstairs into the kitchen, located the bulk bag of Hot Tamales, walked it back up to my bed, and devoured the whole thing. My only proof the next day was an empty plastic bag on my nightstand, a horrible taste in my mouth, and a lone tamale stuck to my stomach. Hot. Tamale.

Most recently I walked to my kitchen, poured myself a bowl of Fruity Cheerios and milk, and wolfed it down. It seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, but seriously, why do I need a bowl of cereal at 3am? This anorexia is NOT WORKING OUT! (for anyone who's a concerned family member or can't take a joke, I don't have an eating disorder. I wish I did, but I can't pull it off. That's another joke. This could go on for hours).

I spent the first part of June in Sedona, AZ... AKA the most gorgeous place in the world. My dad and his wife, Bonnie, live there. Here's the Cliffs Notes - lots of hiking - including the Grand Canyon, Boynton Canyon, and Chicken Point - met some super cool people, spent some much needed hangtime with my family, and participated in an impromptu Native American sage ceremony...trust, when you're flying on Patron margaritas, it makes perfect sense.

My dad recently opened a beautiful health club there. Go. Seriously, it's in your best interest. This man is in such amazing shape, he put me to shame. I'm proud to say he and I conquered Chicken Point together. What an exhausting undertaking! The only way I made it was my desire to not let my old man beat me up a mountain!

The most terrifying moment: A fucking SNAKE slithered from branch to branch right next to me on a trail. I was so terrified I stumbled into a cactus. My calf was on fire, and my mind was blown. My dad charged into the brush, determined to capture said snake and preserve my honor. He grabbed it by the neck and wrestled it to the ground, cursing its kin. He emerged victorious with a satisfied grin and the snake's skin hanging round his neck. I surely would have perished, if not for his bravery!!

(editor's note: in the previous passage, "he grabbed it" thru "his neck" is a pure fabrication, but a fun story we came up with up that I promised would make its way into my blog. He did try to find the snake, but I begged him to come back to the trail. It would've been a real bummer if he was fatally poisoned, since I didn't know my way back to his house, and it was hot. Desert-y hot.)

I watch alot of Law & Order. The classic and SVU. Criminal Intent is horrible. If you watch it, stop now. Speaking of SVU, I can't take the word "heinous" seriously. You know - "in the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous" - I can't help but think of Bill and Ted. Thank God for Ice T's Emmy-award winning performance to distract me from the opening.

I wish sarcasm easily translated to print.

I hate getting into mini-van cabs by myself, just to go to rehearsal or the beach. It seems excessive. I feel like I should be going to the airport. I can't justify all the empty space, I want to fill it with suitcases and the cast of "Eight is Enough."

I need one more reference to an 80's movie or TV show and this entry will be complete.

I cannot help getting overly-emotional when I read People Magazine. I cry at kidnappings, cancer, and sudden dramatic deaths. There's paralyzed former marines teaching kids to sail, long-awaited organs suddenly available to desperate kids near death, jilted women, and detailed diet and exercise regimens of formerly overweight "real" people and already sickly skinny celebrities. Those diets are such crap. It's all Diet Coke and Columbian Coke, not a handful of almonds, a teaspoon of cottage cheese and 5 sensible small meals a day. When reading People, I get angry, devastated, and feel superior to stupid people who give stupid quotes like - "he didn't have little visions. He had big visions." - well, duh. If they weren't little, and you were complimenting him, what else could they be? I know I'm I'm ridiculous about it, and can't stop! I wish I read Newsweek with such ardor.

Howard the Duck. There, all done.

Aw, man!

2007-05-29T18:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Numbnut who stole my wallet:

Enjoy your cancelled credit cards and 8 dollars.

Congrats on another failure. Your parents are proud.

Beep!!!

2007-05-23T14:15:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna start carrying around rocks with me so I can hurl them through the rear windows of the cars of asshole drivers.

Today I saw a guy turning left from the center lane on a red light, then flipped off the people who were trying to go straight on their green light. Wouldn't it just blow his mind if a rock came barrelling through his back window?? It would be totally justified.

That settles it. I shall now become the dark angel of jerk drivers. I'm really excited about this.

Daffy

2007-05-22T01:22:00.000-07:00

I have two favorite quotes.

Sidebar before I go on: is it possible to have two favorites in the same category? I questioned that as I typed it, and my answer is: yes. Because I said so. To the sticklers who might focus on that: Shhhhh. Can I be excused? "I don't know, CAN you?" Get a life. Now, I say this to remind myself not to be that person. Man, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a cranky bitch in my old age like everybody else, despite all my efforts to be otherwise.

Now that we've had that talk, my two favorite quotes are as follows:

"Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction."
- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

and

"The person who waits for a roast duck to fly into their mouth must wait for a very long time."
- Chinese proverb

I respond to the first simply because it epitomizes the way I try to love. I like the idea of being on a team with someone. To be in love, but still get your shit done. It's nice to have some validation, even if it's from the dude that wrote "The Little Prince."

I like the second because it reminds me that I gotta work hard and make my own magic. Laziness is so attractive. I love couches and TVs, but sitting there indulging isn't going to make me successful. So, I've preheated and now it's time to cook that duck.

I'm super hungry.

Dental Insurance

2007-05-10T00:20:00.000-07:00

I'm a fan of a certain young lady: she's the star of the Rosewood Dental commercials that air in the Chicagoland area. The script goes like this:

"I was unhappy with the appearance of my teeth. But Rosewood Dental brought my smile back and it didn't hurt a bit."

Now, I see that commercial at least twice a day. I'm not sick of it yet. In fact, my heart skips a beat when it comes on, because then I get to say the words along with her. I'm along for the ride! I give her alot of credit, she did as much as possible with that line. I can just imagine her dissecting the script the night before the shoot. It's a mini-drama... At first she hated how she looked in the mirror. She'd keep her mouth shut during debates and wouldn't smile for pictures. Then Rosewood Dental came along, fixed her jacked up smile AND it didn't hurt! Not one bit! Whew. In her interpretation, that 7 seconds of story has exposition, a dramatic climax, and a denoument. It's a play for people on the go. So nice work, Girl. That's the good news.

The bad news is: I'm positive she got a shitty buyout for an unlimited amount of time. I fear she's being overexposed in a crap commercial and getting 500 bucks for it. I hope I'm wrong. But I'm not.

I appeal to your sense of justice! Let's get this girl some more money! Who's with me? Somebody do something about this before I lose interest!

Classic

2007-04-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

On my walk to the gym today I nearly slipped on a banana on the sidewalk! There it was, all mushy and glistening, begging for me to wipe out on it. I avoided an embarrassing moment, but I'm kind of disappointed, because I missed out on one of the most classic comedic bits.

It reminded me of my favorite joke from my musical-nerd childhood:

- How is a banana peel on the sidewalk like music?

- If you don't C sharp, you'll B flat.

Ha Ha! That slayed me as a kid! Good stuff.

It's 5:00 AM!

2007-04-19T02:26:00.000-07:00

I can't ever sleep. No wonder I'm so exhausted and impatient all the time. Sorry for all the times I've pretended to be listening. It happens alot. Assume I've done it to you at least 4 times, and increase that estimate if I see you often.

The following are things that keep me up at night:

How do celebrities decide to be friends? There are some weird combos out there. I know this because I read US Weekly religiously. Tom Hanks and Bruce Springsteen! Did you know that? They recently vacationed together in The Caribbean. I looked it up, and apparently they've been friends "since youth." Sorry I don't have more info, I lost interest. How about Gweneth Paltrow and Madonna? That's better known. What's the deal? They get together and talk about being married to sexy Brits? The pitfalls of being ex-patriots? How the macrobiotic diet makes them gassy? And c'mon: the ink is still dry on the contractual Katie Holmes-Victoria Beckham "friendship." It's really none of my business, but I just feel like I know them, you know? Like we're bonded forever because I read Rachel McAdams likes gouda. I like gouda! I'm sitting outside Mark-Paul Gosselaar's house right now. He should be due for his morning run in about 8 minutes. I'm gonna follow him and gather sweat drippings for the DNA clone I'm making of him.

I was recently sitting in a car downtown waiting for someone, and to pass the time I started singing The Star Spangled Banner to the tune of Amazing Grace. Ever tried to sing the notes of one song with the lyrics of another? It's super hard. For me, it's easy to remember the tune, but hard to remember the words. You try it. I'm curious to hear which is more challenging for you to remember, the tune or the words. I think it's a good mental challenge, like patting your tummy while rubbing your head. My personal record for that nonsense is 7 seconds.

I don't know what kind of mom I'm gonna be, but I'm gonna try my damnest to not be condescending or pushy. I've recently started seeing these parents that don't seem to know what the hell they're doing, to the detriment of the kid.

I've noticed the skittish parents tend to ask alot of questions. "What do you want? Milk or Sprite? Billy? Billy? Billy! Listen to Mommy... what do you want? Milk? Sprite? Billy!" Where's the line between respecting your child's desires and being a push-over? When did the kids become the ones in charge?

One example includes a soccer mom sitting behind me on the train home to Michigan: she was answering the sweet innocent questions her child was asking like the kid was actually some aero-physicist and why is he wasting her time asking what my DVD player is. I know kids can be annoying, but guess what lady? That's your fucking job now. Do it well. All the while some other hellions tore up and down the aisles, throwing wadded up pieces of paper at people. Seriously? If I did that as a kid - wait - I DIDN'T do that as a kid because I had attentive (and terrifying) parents.

I don't remember being granted the leisure of deciding between drinks at dinner. I drank what they put in front of me. I also respected adults and their space, did my homework and was kind to other kids, all to their credit. Now, I know kids don't come with a manual and it must be terrifying to be a parent. But I really believe if you treat your kids with simple kindness, intelligence and boundaries, they will develop into a pretty cool adult. Bottom line, I hope I don't become one of those parents that talks to their kid like some kind of asshole. How embarrassing.

Speaking of bad parents, how about that kid that shot up Virginia Tech? I've seen the word "bloodbath" used to describe the killings in major publications. Is that appropriate? It seems like a gratuitous word. It sounds like it belongs in the trailer for its inevitable movie, not on CNN.com.

If I was I Virginia resident I would vote for Gov. Tome Kaine next term. He responded to people complaining Virginia Tech should've locked down campus after the first burst of gunfire by warning them against making snap judgements. He said he had "nothing but contempt" for those who might take the tragedy and "make it their political hobby horse to ride." Amen. I like his candor. I also like that he's covering his ass.

There's nothing I hate more than self-righteous people that pontificate on what "should" have happened. It's on par with the football fan that get pissed at the TV and insist they wouldn't have chosen that play when the quarterback gets sacked. Really Coach? What are doing on this couch? Get that pizza off your chest and get to those sidelines, you're late!

I know nothing about football.

The city's waking up and the Cosby show is on. Let's see what Theo's up to.

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime

2007-04-09T13:46:00.000-07:00

There is an enormous wealth of talent in Chicago. Actors, musicians, artists, improvisors, etc... If you're lucky you can make a living at it. One of the things I love about living in a large city is that everywhere you turn is an opportunity to be entertained.

If you don't like paying for your entertainment, I recommend the musicians that camp out at El stops. Some of the most talented people I've ever heard sing and play have been at the Grand and State stop on the red line. One woman had the most gorgeous gospel pipes I have ever heard. Last week 2 guys played and sang an awesome rendition of Sam Cooke's "Wonderful World" - you know it: "don't know much about history... don't know much biology..." These people should be selling tickets for major money instead of accepting dimes, buttons and paper clips in their guitar cases from stupid CTA passengers and having to stop their songs because the rumbling of the approaching train is too loud. Who knew that under their dirty clothes and saggy demeanor hides a raw talent more impressive than those EMI artists could ever hope to have?

Every so often, I'm bowled over by a performance. It doesn't happen frequently, but when it does, it's the most powerful thing to experience. As I'm sure you can tell by that last statement I've had a pretty uneventful life; I'm hoping having a child or pledging a lifelong commitment to a guy will be impressive, but we'll see.

For those who don't mind forking over a few bones for some Friday night entertainment, read on. Most recently, I've discovered The Improvised Shakespeare Company at iO Chicago. They take an audience suggestion for a title of a never-produced Shakespearean play and from that create a 90 minute long-form improvised romp. These guys are so smart! They intimidate me as a performer. I can only pray I'll be that good one day. And, it's hilarious. I can count on both hands the amount of times in my life I've laughed so hard I cried. This show is responsible for at least 3. Any improv group that can work in an impromptu shout-out to He-Man using iambic dialogue is OK with me. Wow, I'm a nerd. I'm a groupie for Shakespearean improv. Check it out if you can: http://www.myspace.com/improvisedshakespeare

Speaking of making a living as an actor, I just shot a national commercial for KFC. Here's hoping they air the hell out of it. Then I can buy those boobs I've always wanted.

Eat it, enemies from my past and present! I'm on TV!

Here's a tip...

2007-03-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Clueless Male Bar Patron,

That female bartender is not in love with you!

Now, I know it's been said a million times, but I'm going to lay it out here, because apparently it hasn't reached the correct channels. Or maybe you've heard it, but can't possibly believe it applies to you. Trust me, sir. It does.

I'm not being mean. Just honest. The following holds true for any venue where drinks are served by chicks. In this case, I am said chick.

We are not on a date. I didn't agree to come here with you because I'm interested in where the evening might take us. I was already here when you walked in the door. Doing my job. Don't be fooled by the candlelight and music. I do this for everybody.

I understand your confusion. I am giving mixed signals. Keep this in mind: I have to smile at you and try to genuinely laugh while I try to think of a neutral response to your gay-ass inappropriate joke. Look closely for the strain around my eyes. See that?

Oh no! For God's sake, did you just wink? Don't do that! Under any circumstances! Your eye doesn't really want to do it. Feel the uncomfortable tug when just one shuts? That's your eye trying to subtly tell you not to be a douchebag. Listen to your body!

Please just let me get my shit done, because other people that aren't annoying me need their martini. Believe it or not, standing here with one hand on my hip is not a flirting stance, I'm poised to escape to the urgent conversation the waitress and I will pretend to have at the end of the bar.

And don't be upset when my shift is over and I don't stay to have a drink with you. We've just spent a minimum of four hours together much to my vexation. That wonderfully huge tip you left doesn't buy my time after I walk out from behind the bar. But it does help me justify this job that helps me maintain while I pursue an alternative career. That's right! This isn't all I do! No, I don't want to talk about it. And no, you can't have it back. Sucka!

Never yours,
Sarah

I'm Famous!

2007-02-24T18:38:00.000-08:00

Finally it's been documented! For anyone who hasn't seen me at the bar (and there aren't many of you left... where ya been?) this is pretty much how it goes. Twirling an empty glass, wistfully contemplating past regrets and hoping one of the buffoons behind me will indulge me in another cocktail. What are they laughing at???

OK, not really. This is from a shoot last Thursday. The Improvidate cast got together with some dudes from Popcorn Island Productions and shot one of our sketches. It was alot of fun, and judging from their level of professionalism, the amount of equipment (so many lights!) and some of the other stills I've seen, it's gonna be pretty great. Hurray for making stuff.

This also answers a special request for more pictures. Here's another of me and Freddie Sulit on a date. I just called him a Minority (is that supposed to be capitalized?) This is awkward!

Look, there's more!

A personal favorite: my buddy Christopher McConnell (AKA B-Unit) eating a Jenga piece. Why not?

That's the lovely Jessica Joy and uncomparable Ben Munro in the background. There are no small parts, just tiny heads.

Mayhaps I'll post it here when it's done. If not, I'm sure you'll catch it at the Chicago Film Festival. Yeah!

James Taylor Makes Poop Jokes

2007-02-20T18:36:00.000-08:00

Recently I was fortunate enough to watch James Taylor do a sound check a few hours before his concert. We were surreptitiously escorted into the ballroom/banquet hall and approximately 20 feet away from the man himself. He played quick versions of his songs from the set that evening while joking with his band as they experimented with new versions. These people were real professionals. One of them would throw out an idea, the others would instantly pick it up on their respective instruments, and it sounded like gold. Amazing.
The crew started to wrap things up so they could scram before the guests arrived, when it happened: Mr. Taylor got the attention of the stage manager, and referring to the seat that had been provided for him said, "Is this my actual stool, or a stool sample?" Ba-zing! Oh, James Taylor... not only did you bring me to tears with your melodies, but you made me spit Cherry Coke with your witticism. Bravo.

Where was I when all this went down? Vancouver, BC (British Columbia... Canada... Get an atlas) I was there last week with Dave & Co. to do some funnies. The highlights include:

1) Real hookers! I saw them on my way to the hotel. They were hanging out on the corners, waiting for the next John to give them Hepatitis, or vice versa. They were all I could have hoped for: butt-skimming skirts, stripper heels and the stench of dashed dreams. The cab driver saw me looking on with my jaw hanging open, so he initiated a very candid conversation about hooking and how it works. I liked him.

2) A real hockey game! The Vancouver Canucks vs. The Chicago Blackhawks. I lost it over the mascot, which, by the way, was a whale. If you figure it out let me know. He was great! I nearly choked to death on my Sizzlin' Smokie - a hotdog infused with cheese. Yum - when he bit the head of one of the fans. Chomp! Apparently this is something they do, but it was new to me! Even better, I was gifted a puppet of said mascot by Dave. That puppet was biting heads all night. Thank you!

3) The OK Go treadmill dance routine. You know what I'm talking about. You saw it on You Tube. We learned a shortened version and recorded it for one of the shows. I thought I was going to die and have a closed-casket wake due to the extensive tread burns on my face. But once I barely mastered the art of walking sideways from treadmill to treadmill it was smooth sailing from there. You will see it posted here as soon as I get my hot little hands on it.

4) The death of Anna Nicole. Now before you get all pissy, here's why - the TV in Canada SUCKS. Worse than England. Anyone who's visited or seen Nat'l Lampoon's European Vacation knows what I'm talking about. They're not all "The Office." Thank goodness she kicked the bucket. I swallowed my hatred for 24 hour news channels and was grateful I had something to watch while getting ready for bed.

5) Oh yeah, the shows! They were fun. It was a great group of folks: Dave, Ross Bryant, Joey Bland and Phil Ward. I had a blast. My favorite was doing a silly lounge act wearing a big blonde wig and lots of sparkles. My blouse (ew) was of the grandma variety... let's just say it had alot of gold on it. Hilarious. I was transporting it from costumes on a hanger as an older woman walking beside me said (without a shred of irony), "what a lovely blouse!" Yeah, it was.

All in all, a great week.

I can't believe you read all of this.

Life Lessons

2007-02-02T23:19:00.000-08:00

I met an interesting character today at the bus stop. I shall call her Old Lady. OL for short.
I was minding my own in the blistering cold when OL broke the cardinal rule of ignoring your fellow man while waiting for public transportation. She sidled up to me, looked me up and down, and said:

OL: What's your name?

Me: (slightly aback) Sarah. What's yours?

OL: Anne Marie Murphy.
From here on she will be known as AMM

AMM: You should be wearing a hat.

Me: I suppose so. Thanks.

AMM: You see that guy over there?
She motions to an unfortunate-looking dude, also waiting for the bus

Me: Yup.

AMM: He's shifty. I have a six-sense about these things. You watch out for rapists.

Me: Good call. I forgot about that.

At this moment the bus pulled up with its signature screech, and we went to our respective seats without so much as a "take care." But I'll never forget this crazy lady that may have saved my chastity from rape at 10:30 in the morning on the deserted intersection of Belmont, Lincoln and Ashland.

I love this city. And miss my car.

Absconding: My Favorite Pastime

2007-01-27T21:23:00.000-08:00

Today I did the unthinkable. Hold onto your seat: I saw two movies for the price of one. Take that Kerasotes Chicago Webster Place 11!! I am a buccaneer! It was exhilarating. Don't get me wrong, I'm no innocent. But I've always had a partner in crime while sneaking into theaters between movies, and this time it was a solo operation.
On the negative side, it was a slight blow to the ego. I mean, seriously, am I that forgettable? C'mon, you bored, minimum-wage-collecting theater employee! You just tore my ticket for "Little Children" two hours ago! Remember my luxurious flowing locks and intoxicating scent as I glided past you? No? Ok, that's cool. I'll be in "The Good Shepherd."
Both movies were fantastic in case you were wondering. Five hours and twenty minutes of fantastic. Thanks Oscar Contenders, I'm all set.
On a final note, I have to touch on a pet peeve of mine: people that cushion an extreme emotion with a wimpy precedent. For example, I'm "kind of enraged." How is that possible? If you're enraged, be enraged. If you're not, then be "mad as a wet hen," or something equally lame. Just own up to your lame convictions.
Next week: girls that end every sentence with a question mark.

Finally!

2007-01-23T17:54:00.000-08:00

I have a blog! And I did it all on my very own. I didn’t nag my friends with questions, I figured it out for myself! Generally, I'm terrified by computers and websites and all that hullabaloo, but who knew? I’m a technical wizard!

Yeah, I’m going to be honest, this whole ordeal took about 3 hours, so I’m gonna cash in my chips. But before I go, I’d like to give a shout-out to the lovely Jessica Joy, who said, “I can't wait to read your blog obsessively and look to see if I'm mentioned. Which, let's face it, is why we read blogs. Stalking!” She's right.

So, thank you to you folks who have provided me hours (perhaps days) of entertainment with your shameless chronicling. I salute you, and humbly join the ranks.