win, lose, or draw on me

seriously... i want a burger. am i anemic? what's happening? did you guys ever play the anemia game*? you took a piece of gold whatever (ring or something), and you'd run it across someone's face. supposedly, if you're anemic, it'd leave a green/gray streak. it still works on me. aaR, cross me palm with a piece-a gollllllll!

where should i get a ham-b? i'm snagging a pal for lunch/dinns and going.

*relatives to the the anemia game: Am I O Positive?-Taste This; SHINGLES!; and Skiplets: the travel version.

HARPO(ist) Studios

i watch oprah every morning. every single morning, pretty much. i have mixed emotions about this, but i think oprah is more good than evil; anyway, it's a nice part of my morning routine.

refusing to think i am one of the masses, i am watching it with narrative amazement. today is one of those various-theme shows, a mixed bag of loose ties, video, and guests. just now, there is a classical harp player on, and oprah casually mentioned that she listens to track one of this dude's cd every day. the song is a base-line of harp accompanied by three women and a soulful male lead who sings "The Lord is my Shep" (Psalm 23, I think?) over the plunking. this guy has no idea that his life is going to explode in the next day by the cult of oprahs who will now flood barnes and nob and amazon for their new addiction to harpin'.

but what about me? i've also been convinced i need a non-teflon stock pan (addressed), that a burger sounds delicious even though it is 9:54am and i don't really eat red meat (eaten), and that i should start watching grey's anatomy because mcdreamy is mcdreamy (true).

see, but i KNOW i'm being duped. right? right?
oh god, please tell me i'm not one of these women. i need to reee-lax! where's my harp cd?

coffship

man, i'll be honest. last week was a stressful week. a productive, awesome one, but also one of severe highs and a real pressure-cooker, due to ricochet and challenge me to face some unmentionable, unforeseen molehills. it got to me a little, and i suppose that's okay. i'm over it. i feel like i may have hit a strange wall, though, on saturday night or sunday morning, when all i wanted to do was something girly-forever21-horrendous, like shop! or cry!, or shopcry!, and de-stress. i called instead to make an appointment for a massage, and when they were booked, i felt like all my muscles immediately revolted and became twice as tight, a self flip-off.

so, i simply decompressed with a friend over coffee. it was nice, because this friend is great and coffee is great, and my coffee came with a little tugboat on it. tugboat, just plugging along, doing it's best.

what's a meta for?
har de har HARF.

nightdriving + c-spo lament

weekend of shows.

friday i was in grand rapids, mich, with bizco. it was a long day, starting very early, but mostly a fun one. the client was one who supplies gas stations with cigars and snoballs or something. truly, i still have no idea. three hours to get there; deanna and i were tucked in a little jump-seat behind the 5 boys in the back. it was cozy and almost nice, though there certainly was potential to be awf. once there, something in me got psyched about staying in our historic pretty king-sized bed-sy hotel, because it seemed luxurious and silent, but only half of us were game to stay. then, two members found an early call for the next day got even earlier, so we hit the van and went for broke back to chi-town. by the time i got home, after medium-stress + solid success after my first scripted gig with them (the two others had been improv), and lots and lots of bits, i was exhausted.

man, you guys, by the way, pat mckenna is funny.

csz was a welcome treat, a double shift of playing for me saturday night, which is always so fun. here's some fun pics of recent shows - a warm-up dance jam, and a pic from the sound booth when i was ms. voice at a buyout. neat to see the theatre you work at from different perspectives, metaphorically and literally. i'm starting to lament that place being torn down soon, even though i know there will be a better fit for us elsewhere. what can i say? i'm nostalgic. anyway, solid night of shows, the 8pm being knock-it-out-of-the-park solid. there's nothing more fun or easy than hanging out with that family of improvisers and friends. awesome.

in knotts

of course, when celebs get sick, it's silly to lament like you would for someone you knew, but it is strangely affecting sometimes. heard the sad news on saturday night about don knotts. just saw andy griffith on the today show a minute ago, talking with lauer. he cried and it was very moving. they were best fris. don knotts, you sound like a real stand-up guy. you're a favorite.

the week. of weeks.

this week has been huge.
this post is pretty much for anyone who doesn't live here - my friends and fam from home, college, highsch, and life.

on tuesday night, i was hired by Second City.
it's what i originally came here for, 6 years ago.
it's amazing.

in the meanwhile, i've come to adore my life here. the people i know, the places i work and play. i'm scrambling to compromise both worlds this week, as i've started on a new beginning.

i'm determined to stay true to what i want to do here in chicago, where i can go, what i'm capable of. it's a be-careful-what-you-wish-for situation, because now that ride begins.

awesome.

from the badass file

my friend tracy is a newly recruited rooko on the southern maine rebels.
it's a women's semi-pro football team.
nope - not flag, not powder puff.
she's a wide receiver.
badass!

sk8 or die

i just cried, briefly, at the italian ice dancers.

they hated each other yesterday, they weren't even speaking. i thought the woman was a mean putan. then they skated a near-perfect program to prince of persia, and toppled into tears at the end of their program from relief and forgiveness. they kissed and cried and it was pretts.

O L
Y M
P I
C S!

also, did you know that the holding tank for scores is actually called the "kiss and cry"? that makes me laugh. i also like that a place you drop someone off to take the buses here are called the "kiss and ride".

sounds like my wedding night!
(that's for you, prouty.)

did you know...

that

OldWomen
GetHornierWithAge?

i just found out - i got video proof in my junk folder.
...man, turning 90 never sounded so good.

p.s., also, author 50YearsYoung still LovestoGetNailed, and oh - by the way, young jennifer jansen? she needssomeoneforsex.

why isn't someone helping these women?!
man, do i hafta do everything?

the other shoe

i have a problem, i think. growin' up is hard to do, so i'm exploring some vulnerabilities that aren't just under the surface, that maybe one wouldn't expect of me.

i am consistently haunted, waiting for the other shoe to drop. weird, because if you know me, you hopefully think i am a pretty hopeful person - and, well, to be honest, i am. so why am i always secretly waiting for something bad to happen?

this weekend, for instance. man, what a great weekend. nothing insane to note, just a lot of fun friend hangtime, personal mini-conquests, health is good (!), and great, great shows. 5 of them. in a row.

weird.
that's weird, right?
i mean, the odds are against you, if you're a gambler.

maybe it's just that it's average weird, and that's made me think of bigger things, sort of out-loud, to myself. and that i believe in life-balance to some degree - that things get better, and things get worse, and things eventually get better again. that's the good of life, and why i consider myself an optimist instead of the opposite. i typically trust things will get better than worse. i like living that way.

but i know one of the moments that has shaped my life for the foreseeable forever, and i pray that it's stupid, but it's led to hidden dramatic loads of superstition.

picture it: i'm sophia, from golden girls. no, no, for real, this is big, so... picture it: days before christmas, 1993, i was driving in my nissan sentra by riverside hospital, where i was born, where i candystriped for years, where my grandma had heart surgery, where my grandpa had grown very ill and passed. i looked over at the hospital, on my right, and consciously mused to myself. no one has died this year, i thought. that's amazing. since my italian side of the family was so huge, i grew used to going to funerals about once a year, typically between october and december. though a sad gathering, it gave you a reason to reunion and appreciate your family and what you had left. i drove away from the hospital and looked back in my rear view mirror.

two days later, my dad - one of the best - died.
i went there after midnight on that 2nd day, rushed there to my family and saw him, in an extremely unglorious fashion that has been tattooed in my - and my loved ones - collective brain.

now, you can argue some things: i knew, i felt it coming. i had a vision. i cursed myself. circle of life, hakuna matata, any of these, any of these - and at points, i thought all of those (well, not really hakuna - get real, it means no worries!). then, through my pugeot stages and months of playing tough-guy-i'm-okay, i thought none of them. i slowly slipped into feeling numb for a while, as you're apt to do at 17 anyway. but then, i became neurotically ocd, fearfully knocking on wood at first, and coincidingly holding several faded attempts at disgruntled asides with an outdated version of td's god.

the above comment alone could spurn endless conversation on what i believe, if i believe it, and why i've always thought it's important to believe in SOMETHING, even if the something is simply something good in yourself. there is no feeling more isolating than thinking nothing good exists, so i hope that you believe that something does, for your own sake. oprah says remember your spirit! and she's right about everything! (barf)

that's a big story. and, a personal one, but it's important, see, because it's played a HUGE part in shaping who i am. it has made me insanely appreciative of each day, and each person i ever encounter. you know how i'm really happy when i see you? i really feel that happy to see you. life is a celebration. it deserves no less in my book. i never want to regret not being that happy to know someone each and every day. or, greet the day with that, as much as i can without being a caricature. you betta recognize.

the bad part? when it comes to times when most is looking up, is it inherent, humanly, to think something will soon be looking down? even in times like these, where things are just nice? i believe there's got to be a better way to frame that thought - you know, dress it up, slap some lipstick on it; like life comes in waves and tides, and moons wax and wane. that's much better than thinking we're doomed when things are consistent, or (heaven forbid!) doomed when they should rule.

it's complicated, this ride.
i like rides, though.
i think.
don't drop that shooooooooooooo ooo oooooooooo e!

iii'm aa-a-aaa morning person! (bang)*

this morning i had a tech with SC for our away show in grand rapids, MI next week. it's my first scripted gig with them, and the tech was helpful and nice. i was the only one in the cast who hadn't yet done a scripted show for them (i've done two improv shows), so it was slightly jarring because of the pacing, tops and bottoms, and scrambling running orders. seeing something a million times before you do it doesn't mean it's all the way locked in, though it certainly helps. it felt more like an "event" than improv gigs can tend to, though, who are we kidding? it's all gravy, as they say. who says that? scripts are fun, though. the client saw the show and laughed a lot, which was very encouraging. neat.

(*sidebar: for anyone who has seen this blackout, shad sings and i'm the gun-fire-er, and holy god, that thing is loud!)

lots of shows this weekend: did sound last night at csz, even though i still had a coldski. tonight i have iO with merman at 8pm, and tomorrow i have both the 8 and 10 csz show. tomorrow morning, too, some of us are on a csz4charity gig at ronald mcdonald house. charity via improv?: one of the best things out there. such a neat way to give back.

what's your weekend like?

holy sh*t, you guys - PENGUINS!

it is like, 4 am, and i am hooked on march of the peng-wos.

THEY RULE SO MUCH!

can you pay mah bills

can you pay my bills
can you pay my telephone bills
can you pay my automo'bills
then maybe we can chill

for the past day or so as i've been sick, i've been doing positive things like learning a bunch of lines for shows, and dreading-but-handling the paperwork of some medical debt. man, that debt stuff is frustrating. medical debt, for those of you who haven't had it, is a beast. i have had health insurance as i've gone through all this noise, too, but it didn't stop 14 grand being extraneously charged to what was uncovered. it's just unbelievable stuff, unbelievable money.

this year is the year, i say, to get rid of a critical amount of it. it's frustrating to think i could have a downpayment on a condo, but... i'm mostly just glad i'm okay, and dealing with it day by day, and that's important enough. it is. it has to be. so, i'm down 4 grand in 2006, leaving 10, which is awesome since before i was just keeping my head above water.

but still, yech. remember savings? remember grasshopper and the ant? aesop's? no? well, well, well.

anyone else ever faced debt problems? bills, splurges, college loans, any of it? you can post anono, if you want- i just could use some inspiration. as someone who has never had debt before - i am just trying to keep my eye on the prize, so i can climb out and stand where i stood, not so long ago.

massacre aftermath

after all my pro-v-day talk, cancelled a dateski last night because i was too sick to leave the apt. got to talk to some pals and fam, though, which was really nice and made me happs.

talked to one (unnamed) friend who had "hit a new valentine's low" while standing behind a romancing couple at the jewel, holding his own cookies and six pack. they were buying all the fixings for strawberry shortcake, including whipped cream, and this infuriated my pal. "you just know they're going to be licking champagne off each other's nips," he said... and he's right.

so, to those guys. i'll go opposite and say it's a new valentine's high. you could run chicago's lights off the energy that could've been harnessed from bangin' last night.

happy vtines, you guuuuuyyyyys

all my love to family, friends, and readers out there. i can't give you a handmade card on a doily, but hopefully these will do. consider this the carnation sent to you in homeroom, the one valentine out of the 24-box that hinted at the giver actually like-liking you. all that. valentine's day is great - remember, today's about loving everyone (or massacres, depending - let's go glass half-full).

if you want to fill my proverbial shoebox (comments section), say hi today.

tons of love, dudes.

ballgags: now made of yarn!

...

.....

.......

why?

the turino cold, 2006

not feeling too well...
because i caught OLYMPIC FEVER!

curling was on tonight, and so is pairs skating right now. i actually am very sick -my voice is completely gone; staying home with tea & theraflu watching this with a night in is just what the doctor ordered. (seriously, my doctor actually ordered this - no shows tonight, go home, watch the olympics.) i just caught the zhangs from china. she missed her triple toe loop and fell to the ice, but they both got up and skated the long program. way to go! olympics rule!

p.s., high-fives to the real-life olympians i saw at bally's today: bishop, sosenko, and a volunteer named trish who recognized me from the SC show at gilda's club last friday. sometimes this big city don't seem too big. man, that place is insane. i dare more people to join.

win, win, or draw

just got back from a long day -9 hours - of remotes with csz. man, csportz is one of my favorite places in the world, and today was no exception. we went out to a church in yorkville, about an hour away. historically, church remotes are very good and easy. they are well organized, the people are nice, and they want a squeaky-clean show - so the environment really breeds bits since you're pressure to be on ultimate best behavior. i was the field judge, which is essentially a secondary ref (for those of you who have seen the show) in situations with enormous rooms, and i run around and get suggestions and do color commentary on things. it's fun. it was nice today, because i had lost my voice pretty badly last night at a sold-out show at home for a kid's bar mitzvah. my throat is husker-du, so i just used a handheld mic and ran about.

this particular church had bought two shows, so we had a nice little break in-between to eat a boxed lunch and hang. deanna suggested we continue the squeaky-clean theme and play pictionary with the white-board provided in the room, and we were game. the crew (hanson, deanna, rizzutto, mcevoy, bland, mccullough, and self) jumped in. things got stupid fast as we were all in goofy moods to begin with from hitting a performance wall, and one highlight came when hanson stood up to draw. she firmly asserted that she "hate(s) playing games", but wanted to participate. the picture to the right? well, it's britney spears. it is a picture of a shattered leg, usa/britain, and the vlasic stork tapping his beak on a jar of picks. when she revealed what it was supposed to be, 4 of us truly fell out of our seats laughing, which never seems to happen in real life.

man, it's just not a bad way to spend a sundo.
p.s., the picture to the left is erin mcevoy's gary coleman. i dare you to understand it.

LNLS

congrats to my friends at iO's Late Night Late Show, who just celebrated their one year anniversay on saturday. it was a well-oiled machine that night, and the cast? quite lovable. keep it up, everyone!

blinded by the light

so, i have this standing gym date with amy and tara - each saturday morning, we meet and workout (which is a feat after friday night shows/drinking), then hang together if possible. it's fun, and a real nice break for non-improv friendship time on the weekends. this time around post-gym, amy wanted company at their new almost-closed-on gut-rehab condo to wait for a guy to show up and measure for blinds, so i went with and kept her company as the blinds guy came from home depot.

the condo is beauts. amy and tara are both lawyers, so - though they're currently rolling in debt from recent schooling, they'll soon change to be rolling in it. the place has 3 bedrooms, and washer/dryer, beautiful floors, a balcony, a bay window, walk in closets, a back deck, allllll that.

there's not much i'm prouder of than the friendships with many ex-es i've cultivated over the years. amy was a great friend of mine before, but as all breakups go, there must often be some healthy down time for you to get your bearings, to come back to the table as healthier, wiser folk. it's awesome, and they're awesome people. still, in anyone's book, i can see how it might be weird to go to a new condo that you could've shared with someone, pick out blinds together, and play house a little bit.

the difference now is that we were playing house, not living it. and though for a long time we couldn't figure out why it didn't work, now, it works the right way. still, maybe i should've stuck with the lawyer (and being lesbo) - if only for the condo.

yoing!
galileo's head was on the block...

a tiny little division of defran

got a valentine from my mom today. hey, everyone, i really like valentines - them, and the day. my mom is the kind of person that goes to buy a card and won't purchase it unless every word is true, which i think is adorable. because of this, her valentine cards always hit home; they're not the sort of cards that say "hope you're well!", but the kind that are funny, intimate, touching, or heartbreaking.

i love mail. i also love cards, and like writing 'em when i remember to. as a side note, i hate blue mountain cards. any of you out there that know what those are should hate them too, because they're awful. usually, they're a picture in watercolor of two seagulls and a mountain, clipping along with shitty script superimposed over them. a friend from college and i have a bit where we used to write fake blue mountains for fun, after seeing a few of the ultimate worsts. one i remember was "sisters are like friends. friends like coffee. you like coffee. you're a sister". this was hardly an exaggeration.

it's this cyclical nonsense that keeps maxine from hallmark out of work.

oh baby, just you shut your mouth

it's late, wednesday night.

after 2 long, long days, we certainly found our groove. today's shows went well - two three(ish) hour shows for about 350 people a piece. they were well received. we relaxed a little as we learned our "what not to do" sketches for employees were hitting hard with the team leaders. after a little less pressure we felt pleased, and as things were easier we got through it with flying colors.

these corporate shows are hilarious to me - oddly, these are some of the shows that one receives the most thanks and outright gratitude on, possibly because you are breaking up a monotonous day with (a version of) fun. people are really nice about that. sometimes after i wish they could see "real" shows - i always speculate how fun improv would be with crowds as eager as the world-weary conference-goer.

back from vegas now. flight was long, but nice; uneventful. we all got to sit in the same row. after days crammed with lots of work and lots of bits, we each passed out hardcore, one by one. monday i stayed up late talking with amanda, and last night cesar, joey, and i treated ourselves to a nice dinner out. we psyched ourselves up to see carrot top after learning he was in the adjoining hotel, and knew we wanted it no matter the cost, if only for gags we'd do at the prop-comic's expense afterward. we then found out he was dark on tuesdays and nearly cried, but then filled the evening with fun strolling about, learning about craps, and fun talks. at a few points on this trip, i had the sensation of giggles like you get at a slumber party, often at the most inappropriate times. but, that's the beauty of being slap-happy, i think.
the perks are many. make-believe is fun. so are wigs and uniforms.
also, what if i always looked like this? who am i? am i goth? am i a call girl? am i that shy pierced chick from reckless records? who knows.

oh, oh, oh, oh-ohhhhh,
little china girrrrrl!

Get the Edge

day 2, tuesday daytime.
today on-site, i had just the experience i was hoping for. amidst corporate trainings and uneventful techs, we heard raucous cheering in the next ballroom. we asked what was going on next door, and were informed that the other entertainment for the gig was none other than tony robbins. i ran to the next room, showed my ID, and snuck backstage to watch the magic. it was everything i could've hoped - he was enigmatic, cheesy, and a spectacle... kind of the show we'd hoped to catch a few minutes of while in vegas.

in the 4 minutes i saw, people from the corporate office did a baptist revival-like call and response bit with him, all conjuring imagery for me of requiem for a dream. after all, what are you in the business of?, he asks. PEOPLE!, the crowd screams, and tony looks pleased. yes, people. it's all about people. following further prompting and emotional appeals, several of the people in the first rows are... crying. crying! i run and get the boys. my mouth is on the ground. everything that seems like a bit to me - the lip bite, the semi-sincerity... i mean, they really buy this shit.

we go back to our holding tank for our show to start very shortly. joey begins to do maybe one of the funniest bits ever of a corporate trainer gone wrong, feverishly scribbling on an easel notepad. several hot one-liners come out of this bit, and joey swaggers about mugging as the trainer. hey, after all, what are we in the business of?, he asks. PEOPLE!, we scream. oh, wait. you are? i thought this was for a restaurant. i should be in ballroom C.

anyone wanna hack?

eric lindberg, monday - day 1.
whoever thinks that wigging up in "biblical hair plus beard" isn't funny is nuts.

we did not use this on the gig (barring backstage bits).

the Boston Market Players

in vegas with lindberg, bland, and cesar.

things are really busy. we've had cancelled flights, long techs, taxing shows. still, we're in vegas, and that's something. i have yet to step outside the hotel, though, and i hate that. people talk about that all the time, but i tend to be particularly overzealous on the road, trying to see what i can and do something of substance.

feeling lucky in life re: comedy as a livelihood (no matter how pointless) and getting to travel so much doing so - but, it's all the same when what you see is conference room air-walls and table rounds. a room is a room is a room, no matter which town you sit within. so, i'm getting out tonight, out of the world of stale air and casino floors. there's mountains here. and desert. and spectacle. i hope i see it.

more later.

the prettiest girl in daley plaza!

thursday i went downtown to the daley center, a virtual hotbed of filing activity. i had to go downtown to meet a lawyer and get a check notarized. some of you know about my medical strugs, and this was related. this was all good things - one of my medical bills from a bum charge was reduced from 12 grand to 4, and i was to pay it in one lump sum. ga-goo!

it's scary to hand over a 4000 dollar check, especially when you're getting nothing back but um, satisfaction? - and of recent memory, this is probably the biggest check i've ever written. my friend gallen text messaged me during the process and dared me to write the check, hand it over, and say "BOING!" as i left. that made me laugh, and i have turned down no dare in recent history, so i did it if only for myself.

the experience overall was a nice one, because of a few things. to enter the gov't buildo, you have to scan your bag. a cop runs the machine, and as i was about to walk through, he said, "whoa, whoa - what beautiful eyes". i didn't hear him at first, so he said it again, and i think i nearly blushed. making me blush is hard, america, so i'll chalk it up to the fact that this guy was in uniform. he handed me my bag and i thanked him, then he asked if i had electronics in there. i said an iPod. he checked, then he whispered, "i just wanted a reason to talk to you longer". at that point, i maced him (with my mace shaped like an iPod!).

i went to a room inside the building where i think primarily people are either evicted or getting sued for something, and i'm neither. everyone behind the counter was over it. over it, to say the least. i walked up to the counter and gave this woman my check, and she droned on about what i needed to do, and i just smiled at her. "long day, huh?", i asked. she paused, then it was as if another person started talking. "i'm sorry to be so short with you, sweetheart," she said, "but i do this all day, and people sure are mad in here." i nodded, understood, and filled out my paper.

while doing so, a man walked up to me. middle aged, in a suit, carrying a briefcase. "you know what you're doing, there?", he asked. "i'll give you free legal advice."
"i think so," i said. "hard to say, but i think this stuff is nearly overwith."
he paused and looked at me. "heavens," he said, "who on earth would want to sue you?" he then smiled, and walked away whistling, twirling a cane. then an iris closed in and we faded to black. fin.

y'all, the lesson is it just takes a little sunshine! that's all!
i was wearing a polar fleece, for christ's sake.

the wave of the future

splicing is always funny.
if you like marty mcfly and ennis del mar, you should probably watch this.

dude, where's my walker?

one of my nicey roommates, who just turned 23 not long ago, just got on his first chicago longform improv team at the playground. after a meet and greet, he came home. i cheerily asked how it went. he got through the generals, then said one dude is really old. he's like, 30.

34, i mean, 34 - he stammered, as if it would make this better.

i shot him the meanest look ever.
your 3 other roommates are all 29 and 30, friend, i say.
yeah, but you don't act old, he said.

oh my god.
34 is young! good god, why did this conversation happen?
2 or 3 years from now, he'll look back on this and laugh. man, if i wasn't so tired from eating dinner at 3:30, i'd go in the next room and punch him in the neck. ah well- my teeth are out for the night, so why bother?

[name withheld to protect the guilty.]

bus chronicles, II: sorry, charlie

cutting back on driving in the city. it's been nice in some ways - and this may sound hard to believe, but riding the bus is one of my favorite things. yeah, i hate when you're on the urine bus, or the overfilled bus, but otherwise? it's an ideal place to people watch, eavesdrop, and stare into nothingness.

from here on out, whenever i hear something notable waiting for or on it, i'm just going to chronicle it, here. i'll count this entry as number one. this is now number two. please note that the editor of ALAM does not agree with any of the below stated.

broadway (#36), northbound. sweatsuited woman with strong cicero accent (kind of wisconson-y) stands outside waiting for bus with bearded male friend of same genre. i turn down iPod.

girl: "yeah, so, this bitch's mom fed her some tuna and it made her go crazy. i mean, just crazy retarded. find out the tuna had mercury in it so she got mercury all in her brain."

guy: "from tuna? in a can?"

girl: "yeah. of course, yeah. you can see that if you're eatin' somethin' that comes like that everyday, you're gonna act fuckin' retarded."

guy laughs.
guy: "so, she's acting weird now, huh?"

girl: "no, no, i mean, she's actually retarded. her ma was like, i thought i was giving her brain food! i was like, no, you stupid fuck! now she's as crazy as a shithouse rat."

the guy was merely the alley-oop player, and our friend kept driving them home. as someone who hates casual use of "retarded", i have to applaud her for actually meaning it. there is nothing more insane than this convo. is there? going crazy from tuna salad? at least "as crazy as a shithouse rat"?

well, maybe you've misled us, starkist.

drink of choice

as i was hanging at bar louie monday night, i glanced across the counter and saw this. though i've seen it a million times before, i laughed out loud.

it's called KNOB CREEK!
KNOB CREEK, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?
i love it.

maybe YOU'RE from knob creek!

overjoyed, over looove, overwhelmed

this week, i have found myself in a heightened state of being both overjoyed and happy about work, projects, friendships and lovin', and then found myself overwhelmed by all the work, projects, friendships and lovin'.

some knob i hated myself for liking high school who may read this (good god, i hope he doesn't, but if you do, i'm not talking about you) used to write music that was above average for a high school kid. he wrote this song, if memory serves, called "can't slow down". i don't remember anything but the melody and those words, but i have thought it a bunch for the past few days and laughed that THAT was the song in my head.

i've gotten to a neat point in my career, after years of the badly-slotted shows, long hours and ridiculous politics - to here, the blessed place - where we are becoming showered with the fruit of that labor, maybe almost drowning it all. there's so much to do. SO MUCH! there's so many shows. there's so many projects. they're all worthwhile. and moreover, in life - there's so many people. there's so many wonderful old and new friends that you don't see enough of. they're certainly worthwhile.

how do you make time for it all?
i guess i'm just talking out loud, trying to figure that out right now.

one thing i believe in is throwing yourself completely into the things you choose to be in. whether it's relationships or activity, i'm in! sometimes, though, that takes serious energy. and with work, that means a free night, day, or thought is a rarity. i'd just like to be able to keep going and going without running out. hmm... how to not run out?

since i don't want things to slow, i have to find a way - a better way, of making the projects and work and friends continue to be the fuel. yes, being busy can be exhausting, but it's also the dream - so maybe being busy is also perpetual motion, a hybrid running off it's own electricity. or solar energy, but because we know the sun is due to come up again, and bring some new with it. that's all i've got.

all i'm saying? maybe the knob had a point with that song.

area 52

hold up, y'all. a few friends of mine threw a team together at iO last night, and MAN,
it
was
fun.

retelling improv bits is equivalently boring to me as the you-had-to-be-there story, so i'll be quick: at one point, amongst other gems, we all found a way to walk on to a scene and organically get all the elements of the beginning of "Push It" into a scene between two chatting people at a restaurant [the shaker sound, saying "Ooh baby, baby" repeatedly to nursing baby, "Salt and Pepper's here" from waiter, clanking of dishes] and keep it running. it was maybe one of my top ten favorite moments of improv to be in.

thanks to the new rag-tag crew - bland, prouty, rizzutto, moffitt, kosinski, and waltien - for all the fun.