Popsickle
I'm so glad it's Friday.  It's a stupid thing to say, but it's the truth.  I need sleep. I need fun times. 

I worked out yesterday.  I put my hair in pigtails and did 22 minutes on the eliptical.  A third of what I used to do.  Whatever.  I'm building up to it, okay?  This gym is 10 times nicer than the place I belonged to in Buffalo.  I love it.  Towel service!  Yeah!   More than 4 cardio machines!  Awesome!
My life is a thrill.

So, what do you do when you have a tiny bit of contact with a person, mild interaction, not even close to being friends yet, but you want to be, and then you have a painfully awkward exchange in which he visibly recoils at your offered hand (for shaking)?  Do you write a run-on sentence about it?  Because I did.  Do you make the decision to never have any contact with this person again?  Because I should have.  I may have misread the signals he was putting out, but it was rather ugly moment. 

I think I've just described my first interactions with everyone I've ever liked or respected.  I think the cure is to stop liking people.  That actually worked in the "big secret crush-no more" campaign.  I found a way to stop liking him as a boyfriend replacement, and I was able to relax around him enough to start liking him again as a guy.  So I could look across the table at him and participate in the conversation, not flutter my lashes and cackle at everything he said.  We're making some real progress, here.  God, what a moronic thing to talk about.

 
I can't wait until Kerry is the president.  His speech last night was amazing.  Whenever he said something perfect I would point at the tv and say, "Yes!  HE gets it!"  to no one in particular.  I'm registered to vote here in the city.  I can move the doohickey with my fingers, no absentee crap that won't even be counted.  This is important to me. 
I can make anything trivial.  Try me.

Hey!   I know those guys!

So, yeah.  I'm socially retarded.  I went to a show last night and I introduced myself to one of the guys after.  That kind of thing makes me hate myself a whole lot.  It takes courage, sure, so I should be proud of myself.  I'm too embarassed of the way I look, sound and act to enjoy any social interaction.  Whatever.  It was a fun night.   Also, Steve Burns will be there next month.  Yes, that Steve Burns. Sshhhh.

I joined a gym yesterday.  Yay, me.

Some things that are true:

1. I need way too much positive reinforcement.
2. It's hard to know the difference between "going after the thing you want" and "being a presumptuous asshole".
3. There's no "r" in "petty".  Think about it.
4. Some people can be pricks.
5. Other people can be really, really awesome.
6. Enough unsolicited life coaching can make you believe you might be mentally impaired.
7.  Coffee makes my stomach sad.
8.  Mashed potatoes wants to be dinner every night.  It can't be.
9.  I don't call my parents enough.
10. I get deja vu way more than normal people.
11.  I almost made a deja vu joke here, but I restrained myself.

Why do I agonize over everything?

s-e-x-x-y
It's got to be close to 30 degrees in here.  No shit.  I like it colder but this is stupid.

I had my first improv show last night!  Oh, wait, no. 
I'm a dick.
It was good, everybody was great.  I got all swept up in "we did it!" which was fun.  I didn't do much.  Two fun, little scenes.  I still feel like I'm being a dick.  I don't know why.  I'm not being not-nice.  Whatevs.  Over it.

I thought taking a nyquil gelcap at 1:30 in the morning would help me sleep.  It kicked in around 2:30, and kept kicking in until I tossed myself out of couch at 7:30am, right around when I'm supposed to leave for work.  Yeeesh.  I'm kind of woosy.

What did I have for lunch?  Why, sesame tuna steak.  Ephing amazing, thanks for asking.  In related news, I've really got to stop eating out of the vending machine.  I'll have a lovely healthy meal, and then I'll get panicky and I'll eat a big kat.    Dangerous.

I did the show on Saturday, and they kind of unofficially, indirectly asked me to join their group.  I pretty much turned it down, without giving them a good reason.  It's just not where I want to make a home for myself.  Maybe I'll realize one day that that was the wrong thing to do.  Whatever.  I'm not big on open-ended Saturday night commitments anyway.  I hope they're not pissed off at me, because I want to keep dropping in.  It's hard to get excited about joining a group when a lot of the members spent a night over beers complaining to me about how bad/boring/low energy their shows are.  I don't want to be the new baby sister that will fix mommy and daddy's marriage.  (Too honest?)

So, I don't really know what to say about this clown workshop I took this weekend.  It wasn't what it sounds like at all.  I expected a movement class, I got drama therapy.  People cried.  I did get an understanding of what a difference it makes to be true in performance.  I took a lot away from it, not necessarily what I wanted, but definitely something I needed.  I walked out feeling really vulnerable and in touch with my feelings, but after a few hours I started to feel really kind of mad.  I don't know why yet.   I'm also really sore, which is weird because it wasn't a movement class.   

I'm on the biggest learning curve of my life.  I feel like I'm aging and maturing.  It's happening so fast I can see it.  It's like I'm hitting puberty again, but with less crying.  It's kind of cool.

Goodnight, Moon
Oh my, what a wonderful thing a nap can be.  I was never a napper until recently.    What was I thinking all this time, sleeping at night?

I went out last night with Tracey and people from my second city class.  We continued to keep it real, well into the evening.  I brought Tracey because she's friends with my instructor, who also showed up later.  I think he was really happy to see her.  That's nice.  I like him.  I got a lot out of his class, I wish I was still learning from him.   Of all the instructors I've had, I think his theories about what improv could and should be are closest to my own.  I want to lean into that.  I want to crawl into the lap of that and take a nap.

I really want to rent Hellboy.  Random?  Yesh.

Also, if you didn't like Anchorman: cool.  I don't care.  But don't try to talk me out of something I enjoyed.  Hear me, comedy snobs?  Those laughs I laughed, I can't take back.   I guess I just don't know enough about comedy theory to ruin a funny movie for myself. 

I can't get this song out of my head.  What the frick?

bent the hose to stop the sprinkler
hosing off  the sidewalk
what does it say? 
your fucking sunny day.
 
It's so simple, and so stupid
yet so steady
are you ready?
are you ready?
are you ready?
I am not.

I heart tiny horse.
 
I'm an idiot, but I'm learning to not let it bother me so much.  Like last night, I met a couple of people at the bar after my last pit class.  They were cool.  The one girl and I decided to stop over at the mosh and watch for a few minutes.   We were standing up against the wall and a guy that I think is fun to watch did something on stage.  For no reason at all, other than perhaps to make conversation I said, "I have a total crush on him."  Now, I don't, but I still said it.  Refer to the first sentence of this paragragh.   She just kind of looked surprised and said, "you do?"  Then I realized this isn't something grownups really still talk about.  Then I realized they both intern together.  Well, whatever.  It doesn't matter, but I still find a way everyday to make myself look like more and more of a jackass, and now I'm doing it in front of brand new people.

I bought new jeans yesterday because I have some shows coming up and  I'm not really from the "cocktail dress and pearls" school of improv.  (although I totally would be, if I were in a group that was into it.  I'm just saying, I love tradition.)  I'm a size smaller than I was.  Not that you can tell by looking at me, but if you're going to buy me any clothes, they should be one size smaller than a number I'm not going to tell you.

Tonight, my other class has rescheduled our "post-last class get-together".  We've had like, 11 emails exchanged over the past week about time and place and manner.  It's so hilarious.  We've completely sucked the life out of the casual drink.   It'll be fun times, as long as I can find the place. 

This Saturday I'm sitting in with an ensemble at Gotham.  Wannago?

Mocking the Cosmos
I didn't come in to work yesterday.   Monday night I snuck out of my class early because of my back, and went home and crawled into bed and slept for a few hours.  I woke up at 1 am and couldn't get out of bed.  My back was completely effed.  I finally threw myself out of bed, in horrible awkward pain, to stretch out on the floor a little.  I waited until Tracey went to bed before I tried to get up off of the floor.  I couldn't.  It took me from 2am to 3 am to prop myself up on a chair.  I pretended I was on reality tv, looking at the "time elapsed" from the moment I started, being edited to look like a drama queen with some kind of "baby elephant walk"- type comedy music underneath.  Horrible.  I was awake all night.  It was sincerely the worst pain I've ever been in, trying to force myself up, breathing into my lower back muscles, alternating between crying jags and quiet introspection.  I'm proud of myself that I kept at it.   I probably would have been better off on the floor, but what the hell do I look like?  An orthopedic surgeon?  I don't know what's best, I just knew that 1. it was going to take a long time to get to my feet and 2. eventually I was going to have to pee.
I felt better yesterday, I was pretty comfortable after a few hours of sleep. 
Right now I'm at work and I don't know.  It's hurty. 

I hate being home all day.  I watched some short films on IFC, that made me happy.  Otherwise, it's boring and hot.   

We've got it all set up for you
 
Saturday we walked around a street fair in Chelsea and I spent about 60 dollars on nothing.  We (=I) crapped out early and we headed home, got some junk food and watched Welcome to the Dollhouse.  
 
Sunday we walked around Astoria park and Tracey took pictures of our friend John, and he spilled his guts about his recent breakup.  Even though my back got all friggy and it rained on us, it was still great just to be around people I love.  (by the way, John is hot and amazing and in search of a new ladyfriend.  hook it up!)
 
Then Erin and I went to see my second city teacher in his show at the pit, which was awesome.  (I need new adjectives.)   My brother and a few girls from my class went as well.  It was an odd mix of people who ended up really getting along.  I never thought I'd see my brother turn to one of my friends and say, "Blog that!" 
So! Wrong!
 
Maybe Erin  will tell you about the sushi place.  I don't think I can talk about it.  ::shiver::
 
My back is still out of place.  It took me much longer than it should have to get out of bed.  I have a class tonight, too, so I'm worried about that.  I feel like the more I move around the better I feel.  I'll be fine soon. 
 
I miss Todd.  I don't even want to think about it sometimes.
This is a shitty entry.  Sorry.  It'll be better tomorrow.
 

I signed up for another short workshop next weekend, because I can't stop taking classes.  Part of the problem is that people I adore keep teaching classes in areas I need to work on, and apparently my cash is burning a hole in the pocky.  I hope it's making a difference.  There's no real way to quantify it.
 
I finally got to talk to the bf at 1:30 in the morning, on the train on my way home from getting a drink with a girl from my class.  I think we talked for about ten minutes, more than we have since I was home.
 
[for this piece I will be playing myself, and I'm also playing todd, by affecting a stoned, meathead voice.] 

Him: when I'm lying dead onstage for the last scene of the play, I have a lot of time to think and, like,  I like you.
Me: What makes you say that?
Him: I don't know, you're just (pause) different from other people.
Me:  Like, how?
Him:  I don't know.
Me: Well, ok.   Thanks, honey.
 
I know that doesn't techinically qualify as a compliment, but i'll take what I can get.  It's sweet.  It's all in the intention.

I'm friends with a girl who wrote a book. June's awesome. Buy her book.

I could make you happy, you know, if you weren't already. I could do a lot of things. and I do.

I'm a romantic. It's a dorky thing to say about myself, but I am. It's my patent excuse for why I'm like this. Last night, instead of ducking into a rite aid for ten minutes to wait for the sky to clear up, I ran home in a downpour, because that is what romantic idiots do. We choose the irrational. We spend all day thinking about boys who will never like us, instead of appreciating one who actually seems to think we're cute.

I think after tonight I'm going to swear off being around people that crush my heart. Stop being so adorable, okay?

Whatever. I need pudding.

I did not go out last night. I was supposed to take another class, but instead I went home for a nice nap/laundry/bs with tracey night. I wanted to feel like a human being today. I do.

I stole some pens . . . and some plans. Space plans.

A guy from my second city class asked me to sit in with his troupe on Friday, because they "need a girl". I'm thinking probably no. They're doing structured improv, and they plan on "getting a hotel room Thursday night, staying up all night drinking and working on the show." There are so many reasons I'm not going to do that. Mainly: it's been a few years since I've been 18. It was really sweet of him to ask, but yeah . . . "no". It's hard to say, but you have to sometimes. I'm not in the mood to burn out this week.

No Elephant Larry this Saturday. Now I make other plans. Fancy plans, with pants to match.

I did the student jam last night. I have never seen a group of actors so unwilling to perform. It was a great idea, and everyone was really nice, I even hanged out with a couple of nice girls afterwards. But wow, weird energy, no enthusiasm. I don't mean to be pissy, but I get fired up when people drag their feet to the stage. Whatever. I'm snotty.

You're on your honor, because I'm a goner, and you haven't even begun.

Don't mind me.

This is my week in funny:
Sunday-played with malarky,
Monday- pit class
Tuesday- second city student jam
Wednesday- taking the other section of the same pit class (preparing for the student show)
Thursday- last second city class.

That's insane. Would't it be kind of hilarious if I were terrible at this? [cue nervous laughter]
I'm tired and unshowered.

{Right around here, pretend I wrote something articulate and witty regarding being insecure about my appearance, doubtful of my abilities, heartsick over my relationship, and uncertain about my future.}
I mean, am I right? :)

I put in the Magnolia soundtrack last night, because I haven't been moody, heartsicky and crushy enough lately. I'm a goner.

Now that I've met you, would you object to
never seeing each other again?
because I can't afford to
climb aboard you
no one's got that much ego to spend.

So don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when just one act of kindness would be
deathly.

Did you know, you can sustain a long distance relationship on just one six-minute phone call every other day? Because you can't.

I don't know how I'm doing any of this.

I saw Anchorman and Spiderman. Both were hilarious. I wanted to see Farenheit 9/11man, but I couldn't rustle anyone up to come with me. Mabes I'll go by myself sometime.

I went to a birthday party on Friday. It was at the harbor, which was lovely, though the waiter was surly. Then I came home and got sick. I didn't drink a lot, but I ate a lot of cake. The beer we were drinking might have been a little off. I was brushing my teeth and the contents of my stomach walked right out of my body. It was effortless and gross.

I played with the group my brother coaches last night, because they were short a few hands. Some of the scenes I was in were kind of muddy which was my fault. I was holding back from making strong choices because they're a tight team and i didn't want to impose. I did actually say some unintentionally funny things, and I played a dead priest with a broken neck so, all is well I suppose.

Lately I've been starting way too many conversations with "If this were an episode of Law and Order . . .", usually to describe a person or location.

I ate a big red candle.

Not that it matters.

I had such good time in class last night. Just awesome. I won't bore you with it, but it was fun. My teacher is great. I wish I had learned from him from the beginning. During "moment of truth" I had to reveal my "secret crush", which ended up being one of like "four guys" I'm actually "actively crushing" on right now, but they didn't need to "know that". Plus, I think my teacher could possibly think it's a friend of his (I gave first name only), which it could possibly be, but it's not. It's a ucb harold team guy. Tell him all about it, I'm sure he'll be thrilled.[/srcsm] Not that any of it matters. Part of what made me happy was being in a room with no mirrors. It's like god and Kevin heard my prayers! It made a huge difference. And yes, in case you wondered, having to reveal absolute truths about yourself to relative strangers is not scary at all, it's actually kind of liberating. Not that I'd want to make a habit out of it. Other than on . . .you know. . . this website. Ahem. (Oh wait, I guess I did decide to bore you with it.)

Tracey showed me the pictures she took of me the other night. I wanted to cry, puke and jump out the window simultaneously. I am not what you would call a "pretty girl". I'm aware, and I am courageous about it, and boy am I ever beautiful on the inside, but godfuck-that is so not how I pictured myself in my head. Just: ew. I'm sure it's better than I think it is. Or whatever. It doesn't actually matter.

Tonight: a party!! I am looking forward to it, very very much. I'm wearing a cute top. Also, I need to see some shows soon. I'm at the very beginnings of going nuts. Is it wrong to get excited about shows? I hope not. I'm the only one I know who gets like this.

Keep the last monday is July open. My little class has a little graduation show. Aw. It's the cutest, you guys.

So I says to Madge I says

Not a whole lot going on in Sariebeartown. Just updating the old friendster page. Checking the email again. The usual. God, this job is boring.

I'm having lunch with adam and amy at 1. Come on, clock! Move it!

I tweaked my amazon wishlist a bit, since my b-day is right around the corner. (The big one! I'm going to be eighteen!) I want an ipod or a cd burner, but I do not have the cojones to ask for either. I don't know how an ipod works anyway. I'll just buy one for myself someday.

I'm going to do the Second City student jam next Tuesday, so I've got that going for me. I'm going to audition for the revue showcase class/workshop thing, if they have auditions in the fall. I actually want to do that really bad. I am already apprehensive, since I totally shit the bed for the auxillary company auditions a few years ago because I put way too much pressure on myself. I want things.

I kind of wish we could be like we were when we were six. We could just meet people, get in the sandbox, and be best friends for a day.

How bad do I want butterscotch pudding right now? Real damn bad.
How good does this mango after-sun lotion smell? Good enough to cover the stench of charred flesh.
How fun was the mosh last night, considering I didn't go? Probably the funnest ever.

Look at that. Time for lunch!

Your Drrrrawn Buttah, Sire

I had a great and busy weekend that ended in too many uncontrollable tears. I'm usually pretty good at bottling it up and then letting it go when I'm alone, but I couldn't quite get a moment to myself all weekend. I'm sure the customs people are used to it by now. I get up there, hand her my id, she looks and me and tells me to go ahead. We both pretend it's not happening. Whatevs, right?

I will share with you the highlights:

On the fourth, my mom sat at dinner with my friend Tim. She found him "lovely", he found her "charming". I am going to choose the perfect moment to spring it on her that he was at that moment both really stoned and very gay.

My cousin's daughter told me, "I am going to live to be a dentist!"

We had beatles singalongs while it rained. It was really less queer than it sounds.

I bought Vernon God Little at LaGuardia Friday night. I finished it in two delayed flights. It was good. I can only put books in two catagories: good or couldn't stick with it. That's about as far as a conversation with me about a book will go. That and maybe, "he sure talked about panties a lot."
I got some good suggestions from a few friends as well, so I'm back on the non reading wagon, or off the reading wagon, whichever. I don't know. Stop looking at me.

45 seconds after picking me up from the airport my dad was on me about auditioning. It took my brother five years to book a national commercial. My dad wants me on his tv screen after two months.

Oh, and I swam, and I turned bright lobster pink. Sounds delicious, yes?

Cassini's upcoming flybys of saturns moons.

I want to check back in October when it flies by Titan. I'll forget.

BOUNCE.

I am very happy. I'm going home tonight. All the way home. I'm going to eat food like it's my job and get driven around like a princess and do all the things I love in this world. I'm going to pick up some cds that I've been crying for, and something to read for the sake of pete. I'm going to sleep in a different bed. A bed with someone else in it! (I hope!)

When I come back it will be post-holiday July, and all the shows I want to see will be up. Joyful noise.

I had a really nice time last night. I had dinner with a group of people for my friend Leigh's birthday. All lovely new people at a lovely little bar in Hell's Kitchen. I like meeting new people and bonding over the course of ten minutes and ending the evening with hugs and exchanged numbers. Ok, well, we didn't exchange numbers, but it was still a successful evening. Leigh's birthday was truly happy, for me. And for her, too, I would assume. (Look at me, all snarky.) I like nice people who are nice. and pomegranate juice.


[draws a circle in the air]
This is the universe.
[points to center]
This is you.

Can't you tell that I'd rather be alone?

I'm really in a much better mood than I seem.

I should have gone to see How to Kick People last night. The Mosh was fine. Whatever. People had a great time, but I was being a big bitch about the whole thing. It got really blue, which is cool in moderation and it was funny, but it's not my thing. And of course, lately it's all about the random vaguely foreign skankily clad hot chicks who show up. I am none of those adjectives, so I end up feeling pretty defeated before I even set foot on stage. Plus, I was snubby to someone I like, which is more proof that I am socially retarded. I did my best and then I took off after my group's second set, went home and re-evaluated my life choices in front of the computer until 2:30 in the morning. I requested 4 new york people I sort of know to become my friendster, because that's like a non-gesture friendly gesture.
Also, I watched the show before the mosh, which, while a great show that I highly recommend, was like the fourth time I've seen it. I'm turning into creepyfan. The nice thing is, I've gotten to know one of the wives of someone in the show who is super nice and cool, and she invited me to go for drinks after, but instead I stayed for the jam. I should have gone.

Tonight, even though I am tired and sad, I'm going to go have drinks for my new friend's birthday. It is just sweet and awesome that she invited me. We did a jam together at Gotham last week and the week before and had ever so much fun. Splendiferous.

Then tomorrow, home to Buffalo. I really, really need it. I can't believe I haven't been home in two months. We're going to try to have a party, but I think it's too late to invite people. Whatevs. I'm going to hang out in the pool until I turn the color of hate.