Brave, Not the Movie.

 

{brave writing.}

 

I am, in the words of Chucky Finster, a "scaredy-cat."  I'm god darn afraid of everything.  I don't like social interactions with people I don't know, I hate rats and centipedes, I hate being the first person to show up somewhere, I'm afraid of being vulnerable and putting myself out there... so, basically, rejection.  

But, then I think of all the times I was brave and how HUGE the pay off was.  All the times my life actually changed for the better because I did something WAY out of my comfort zone and just went for it.  Even when I was rejected!  And I have been.  But, I wonder why I'm so afraid to try something new when it always works out.  Maybe not the way I wanted it to... but it still works out.  

I applied to college and I moved away, even though I was terrified.  I was so dependent on my parents and friends.  I learned to live alone and meet people and grow a little bit.  I moved home and out again, repeatedly, but for four years I've lived alone and I have grown up tremendously.  

I took an improv class to come out of my shell.  And well, look where it has lead me.  To heroin.  Just kidding.  I never, ever thought I'd be doing it for a living.  And now I am.  I'm writing, I'm performing, I'm teaching five days a week and sometimes more.  It is my job.  
 
I applied for a full-time job and I spent four awesome years learning a lot of different ropes and skill sets.  (And I applied for a few that I did not get and learned from the experience.)  

I've wrote a play, even though the idea seemed ridiculous and huge.  How was I ever going to write a whole play?  How would I ever manage my time and get it done and have it be good enough to show to people?  But, with the help of Jeremy, I did it.  And it was awesome and still one of the coolest things I've ever done.  

I joined Awkward Compliment when I didn't think I needed to and didn't really want to... and I have six of the best friends in the world because of it.  

I've accepted invitations for dates and even asked out a few guys of my own, and that's some scary shit.  But, when you put yourself out there more often, it gets easier and easier and it's not so bad.  Even when people are horrible and even when people say no, it's fun to be in a scary situation.  (And I've had a whole lot of fun because of it and got to know some really awesome guys.)  (And I've had a whole lot of, "Oh god, why did I do that?" too.)

Being brave is terrifying and fun and exhilarating.  We should do it more often!

The City Squirrel's Guide to Fall Fun

This fall has been awesome.  And you know what?  I haven't done shit.  Seriously.  I have done nothing different than I did over the summer.  But for whatever reason, I am really loving this fall.  

I live in the city, so it's hard for me to get out and do fall activities.  And let's be honest, I don't necessarily care to.  I haven't been apple picking since I was a kid, I've never picked a pumpkin and everything else seems just kind a "meh" to me.  But, there are ways to still experience fall and enjoy the hell out of it without even daring to step into nature. 

1. Drink Shipyard Pumpkinhead... and a lot of it.  If you're feeling crazy, add a shot of vanilla vodka to it.  You'll be happy you did.  It tastes like pumpkin pie!  You'll also get very drunk, so be careful.  But regardless, take every opportunity you can to go drink this stuff!  It's only available for a limited amount of time!  So live it up while you can. 

2. Invest in a throw blanket and a pumpkin scented candle.  Light the candle and only use your throw blanket.  You'll be so cozy and kind of cold but also kind of warm.  Fall at its best. 

3. Marathon a TV show (while using throw blanket and pumpkin candle.)  Whether it's one you need to catch up on since fall shows are back ("Parks and Rec"), or something that's not on anymore ("Freaks and Geeks.")  It's a good time of year to just stay in on a Sunday and take in some good ol' TV. Other suggestions: "Dinosaurs" and "Bobby's World."

4. FOOTBALL!!!!!!!!  (Just kidding.) 

5. Boots.  Buy some.  Wear them with everything.  Use them to justify wearing dresses with no tights.  Bare legs are totally fine with boots.  

6. Make more homemade food.  Or, watch your friends make homemade food.  It's a nice time of year to gather inside and make family-style meals. 

7. Grab a warm coffee or tea and go for a walk.  Get up, get up, get busy, do it.  I like to walk the waterfront, or through the parks in Boston because they're close to me and I can see at least a little bit of foliage.  Oh, well, I guess you do have to step into nature a little bit. 

8. Watch a Halloween-y movie.  Suspenseful ones are preferred over scary ones, in my opinion. 

9. Listen to records and do nothing.  There's nothing better than a cool breeze, a rainy day, scratchy records and not feeling guilty about not doing a god damn thing.  Maybe you can even light that god damn candle again (I mean, you have to wear it down while it's still in season, right?)

10. Kissing.  It's really fun in the fall. Much cozier.

I've Been Up To Things.

Here's what I've been doing: 

Production: We've been in production for our next mainstage show - the third one this year!  It's been a little bit stressful.  We rehearse all day and most of us teach or do other shows most nights so there have been so many days I've felt significantly unprepared.  I hate feeling unprepared.  It's just been a non-stop few weeks.  My brain doesn't shut off.  I'm in a total "creation" mode that I can't break out of.  That's not always a good thing.  There have been many sleepless nights.  But we're finally winding down and we have got some really great stuff ready for the opening in a few weeks. 

I got a manicure and pedicure with Mary today.  It was long and relaxing and great.  My toenails are kelly green.  It looks like I have plants growing out of my feet! 

I've been wearing leopard print shoes a lot.  And I think they're finally done giving me blisters! Good little shoes. 

I watched "A League of Their Own" and "Sleepless in Seattle" the other day.  Accidentally had a Tom Hanks, Bill Pullman and Rosie O'Donnell marathon.  

I watched the first season of the show "Wilfred" and man!  I couldn't stop "barking" about it... as Trevor liked to put it. 

I'm getting very excited for fall.  I even pulled out my leather jacket to wear for tonight. I just can't wait for layers and a chilly breeze and sleeping in late on Sundays and not feeling like I should be outside doing something. 

I've been randomly drinking a lot.  Too much.  August was a month of celebrations.  Trevor's birthday, Mary's birthday, Evan's last night, Kelly's birthday, a student grad show, Thursday... and I've been doing a lot of stupid things and not remembering them.  I know that they're really NOT that bad (I'm safe, no ankle sprains) but there's really nothing worse than waking up with a guilt hangover and an actual hangover.  My body feels weak and malnourished and dehydrated and my brain feels dumb.  I'm using September as an excuse to get back into gear and stop acting like a god damn 21 year old. 

That's all.

Get Outta Town

My friend Janine recently got a tattoo on her ear that didn't heal exactly the way she wanted it to. So, last night we drove to Newport to get it fixed by a tattoo artist that she's been to before and really loved.  It was a nice little road trip! 

We were a bit early for her appointment so we walked around Newport a little bit.  There was a sign that said, "To Waterfront" and I thought how nice and romantic it would be to walk along the waterfront at dusk.  Well, we couldn't find the waterfront.  That sign lied.  But then we saw a really old house that was a restaurant, The White Horse Tavern, and we thought we'd get dinner.  

It was the teensiest bit fancy.  And there was no electricity in the dining room other than candelight.  But, we all know how much I love to pretend I live in a different time period.  It was perfect!  And like $30 a plate. But, whatever, YOLO, right?  We went all out.  Wine, bread (with awesome homemade honey butter), steak and we shared dessert.  Everything was so awesome and we were so full.

Which, of course, helps when you're getting a tattoo.  Luckily, I wasn't, so I just sat in the lobby, uncomfortably stuffed, and read Maxim.  Janine got her tattoo fixed and nearly puked.  It's on her ear, so it was very painful and also very loud, I imagine.  I could hear it all the way from the lobby! Imagine that noise right next to your ear. 

We got lost so many times on the way home, so it took a long time to get home.  But we had fun music and good conversation (mostly about Harry Potter) and it was fun.  A really great Wednesday night.  I feel like I don't do much anymore because I work so much on prime "going out" nights. And I've been in rehearsal so much, and when I'm not in rehearsal - I'm writing or thinking about how I should be writing (but watching Dawson's Creek and old episodes of SNL instead.)  But it was nice to get away for a bit and to hang out with my old married best friend!

Displaced Hip Girl

 

(this really has nothing to do with this post. but the birds are flying off my dress!)

 

I very rarely take the train unless I really have to.  For one, I hate public transportation.  People are the worst and I'm incredibly impatient and every trip seemingly takes forever.  I will always prefer walking, a cab (although pricey) or getting a ride if someone is being extra nice.  For two, I actually rarely go anywhere else but my neighborhood and the surrounding neighborhoods.  What's the point?  I don't shop so much anymore, I barely go out drinking and if I do, there is only one bar I go to and it's down the street.  Long story short (is it, thought?), I very rarely take the train unless I really have to. 

The other day, however, I did have to.  I went to Allston, where all the hip kids live.  As soon as I walked off the train, I just thought, "I don't belong here."  Though, technically, you would think that I would.  I wear big glasses, I have tattoos, bangs... I was even wearing a plaid shirt.  But, I just didn't feel okay there.  

I had to wait an hour for my tattoo appointment, so I went to a coffee shop to get a drink.  I forgot my headphones and my notebook.  I always have a notebook on hand... because if I don't write down sketch ideas, then they'll be gone forever... but I was forced to brainstorm ideas on an ENVELOPE.  If I didn't feel out of place before, well I certainly did then.  

I overheard conversations (as eavesdropping is one of my favorite things to do) and heard one girl talking about a bar she went to that had a cool name and who she was with, and all of her friends had awesome nicknames.  Like "Jazz" or "Binney."  I mean, I guess those are awesome nicknames.  My friends are named normal names like "Ryan" "Kelly" or "Wack."  She had a half-sleeve tattoo that didn't match her pink shorts, black tank top and long blonde hair... but did match her deep voice from smoking too many cigarettes and long night of PBR drinking.

I knew everyone hated me.  No, they did.  I know for a fact because when I texted Casey about feeling out of place and everyone hating me he said, "Don't worry, it's fine! But yes, everyone hates you."  I knew everyone could tell that I just found the plaid shirt I was wearing at the bottom of my shirt drawer and that I wear my glasses because I actually have bad eyesight and that my tattoos are actually just colored pencil drawings taped to my skin!

Eventually, I got my tattoo, I pretended that I don't still listen to Backstreet Boys and I got the hell out of there.  I returned to the North End where I belong... with the oldest Italian grandmothers, men sitting on lawn chairs in the middle of the street and people falling over on street corners after their visit to the local methadone clinic.  Ah, yes... right where I belong.

One Happy Idiot.

Yesterday, I was hanging out with a good friend of mine and he called me, of all people, tenacious and persistent.  Those are traits I never thought could be matched with myself.  I hate following up or putting people out or being annoying.  But I am a constant, hopeful dreamer... and when I really want something, then I really want something and I will not give up. 

I really wanted to do improv.  But, just simply doing it wasn't enough for me.  I could go through the training center and be done with it.  But I wanted more and more.  And eventually, I got it to the "end goal" of being on the mainstage.  I mean, I worked for a lot of years.  And I had a great time along the way.  So it never felt like I was working too hard or busting my ass.  But, looking back, I kinda did.

Truthfully, I might be too hopeful.  I always think things will work out well.  And even when they don't, I never, ever feel bad about, or regret,  thinking positively.  I refuse to think "this is it, it'll never be better" and move on.  There's no fun in that.  I like to dream, and believe, that everything will be and can get better, as long as I don't give up on it.  I spend a lot of time envisioning what I want and then actively trying to get there. 

Maybe I'm a total idiot.  But, some of the greatest days of my life have happened because I was an idiot who didn't stop holding on to impossible thoughts and hopes.  I don't give up.  I won't give up.  And I'm happy being a dummy.

How To Deal with Bad Days

Lately I've been feeling pretty glum.  There's not one thing that's bringing me down, it's more like everything.  I've been weirdly sick, it's so fucking hot and improv is improv and god damnit, things!  Stupid things!  Today I woke up at 6:30 in the morning, unable to sleep any more because of the heat and I got sick again (I tell you, if I could survive without my back and stomach, I would kill them) and I just started crying from the stress of it all.  

So, naturally, I spent the day trying to beat it.  Here's my tried and true list of how to de-stress and feel better.  Disclaimer: They do not work for everybody.  Nor did these all work for me today.  But, well, mind over matter. 

1. Shower. Cold. Hot. Alternate. Cover your ears and stand directly under the shower head and let it hit the top of your head.  Sing! 

2. Read a book on the waterfront.  Preferably underneath a tree.  And, uh, try not to freak out when you get sap on you and think it's bird shit.  My book of choice today was "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire."  I'm re-reading the whole series because that's just the kind of thing I do every now and then because I'm a nerdy bird. 

3. Window shop.  Or regular shop.  I don't have the money, nor do I need another dress.  But, that feeling of something new is always a nice, fleeting feeling. 

4. Go for a walk.  I tried this today, but it was WAY TOO HOT.  I got from the Waterfront to Faneuil Hall and back to the North End.  

5. Do yoga.  Still way too hot, but managed to do a good twenty minutes (then followed it quickly with #1.) 

6. Clean.  When I'm stressed, nothing helps more than getting my life in order in some way.  I swept and Swiffered and gathered up all sorts of trash to take out and did the dishes and I felt accomplished... which is also a nice, fleeting feeling.

7. Listen to music that makes you think of happy memories.  I listened to Motown Remixed while I walked around.  Then Otis Redding while I napped. 

8. Write.  I wrote this blog post!  And some other stuff!  While drinking coffee! 

9. Treat yourself.  I painted my nails and bought a giant iced coffee. My hands are prettier and I feel less tired, what a treat! (My eyes, on the other hand, do not look less tired.)

10. Remember that sometimes it's just totally okay to wallow and be stressed.  We're not perfect and we can't be upbeat and happy every single day.  Sometimes life is a son of a bitch and has us treading water all day... but tomorrow might be better.  And hopefully less sweaty.

Deep tissues.

OK, just want to throw out that I'm really proud of this blog title. REALLY. PROUD.

See... last week, I decided to treat myself for my birthday. I thought, "Hey Patty, it's me, Patty. I think your 25th year was a pretty good year. You worked hard and did a lot of things. You deserve a nice treat for your 26th birthday!" So, I booked a 60 minute deep tissue massage at a nice spa in my neighborhood. Of course, my first mistake was booking it for 10am on the morning of my birthday and didn't think I might be out drinking the night before. Which naturally I was. Why wouldn't I be? It was the opening night party for our new show and everyone in the company was together - why wouldn't we go out drinking?

I showed up and was ushered into the spa and shown around. Who the F was I to deserve such a fancy place? They had unlimited tea. And water. And a "zen lounge" and fancy lockers and towels and bathrobes and Core Fusion classes. There was even some sort of room where you could hang out on heated surfaces in a robe and just sit and be hot. I mean... can you imagine? No responsibilities but sitting there and being hot? Amazing.

Naturally, I was confused by everything. So instead of putting my stuff in a locker and putting a robe on and waiting in the Zen Lounge for my masseuse {don't worry, I want to punch myself in the dick for that last sentence, too}... I kept my clothes on, my bag on my shoulder and read tweets anxiously while waiting. My masseuse came to get me and asked, "Are you not going to put a robe on?" and I said, "I'm confused. I'm dumb. I'm sorry." So she showed me around... again. This time, I was less nervous and listened more carefully and put a robe on and felt really awkward and uncomfortable. I decided then and there that next time, I'd go to some shitty place in Chinatown with a sign I couldn't understand and pay $50 for someone to walk on my back.

When I eventually got to my room, I realized how awesome this was going to be. Very rarely do I get to lie down on my stomach, covered by way too many sheets with my face stuffed in a weird pillow with a FACE HOLE! What a life!  My masseuse {dick punch} was shocked that for my first spa experience I'd be getting a deep tissue massage. She thought my birthday massage should have been like a calm, relaxing one. Calm? Relaxing? I don't do things like that. I told her that I was always in pain. She asked, "Where?" I emphatically said, "EVERYWHERE." Which is true. I injured my back doing yoga. I have weak joints, bad ankles, high arches that throw my whole body off and there are tiny monsters that live in my calves. Oh, also I choose to disregard taking care of all of this by wearing inappropriate footwear and continuing to work out even though it leaves me disabled every single time.

The massage itself was awesome. It hurt, of course, but it was awesome pain. And she told me I had as many knots and problems in my back as I thought I did. She even said that my injury was pretty serious and I shouldn't do any activity where I have to lift my arms over my head. So there goes my part-time acrobat career! She also said I had more knots in my legs than she had ever seen. She said, "It's almost like you spend your entire day in a squat." So, I've got that going for me!

After I was done, my masseuse {still gross} told me to hang out in the Hot Room {it has a real name that I don't know} or go to the sauna. I did not feel as though those were things I could do comfortably. What if someone tried to talk to me? I'm getting nervous just thinking about it. I ran out of there, got a coffee and sat on a bench on the waterfront with the neighborhood crackheads. Much more my style.

I spent the rest of the day sore and tender. Then I spent the entire night on my feet performing. Then drinking. Then the whole next day performing. So, basically, all the benefits of the massage were pretty much cancelled out.

Moral of this story? Get a massage on your day off. Or like, the beginning of your weekend {which happens to be the beginning of my work week.} Also, get a massage! They're awesome and worth every penny. Also, don't wear heels all the time, it ruins your body. Also, I'm still going to wear heels. Also, still proud of this post title.

The 5 Stages of Quitting Your Job

 

{this was the kind of professionalism that went on at my work.}

I’m leaving my job at the end of the week and since giving my notice, I have felt a whirlwind of emotions. I mean, honestly. It has been nuts. I've laughed, cried, squealed with glee, had panic attacks, nightmares, etc. For some perspective, I got this job out of college. Like, days after graduation. I had no idea what I was doing or what my goals were in life. And now, four years later, I'm leaving a place that has treated me well and there is no bad blood whatsoever. Here is the range of emotions I felt:

When I came to the decision, I felt excited! Yes! This was right! I had to do it, I had no choice, it was time to go and pursue my LIFE! 

Then… I gave my notice. And I felt sad. Like a DUMB idiot. I felt guilty for ditching my boss, who is wonderful and works really hard and could use the help. As I walked around and told everyone, I felt terrible and I regretted it. There were so many people I loved! Why was I leaving? What was I doing? This was stupid. I left the building and cried more in the sunshine.

Finally, relief came. Oh man! Sweet, sweet relief. I wouldn’t have to wake up and go to a day job and sit at a desk all day? I wouldn’t have to be everyone’s bitch? I wouldn’t have to greet another guest, coordinate any more travel or deal with people’s dumb questions? I would be able to sleep a little better. I’d be able to get more stuff done during the day. I could see movies during the day and maybe, just maybe, not have bags under my eyes.

Slowly, but surely, anxiety washed over. How was I going to make money? Who was going to take my place? How do I get everything together to train them? What if we don’t find the right person, or they don’t get hired in time and I can’t train them? What was I going to do about health insurance? HOW WAS I GOING TO BUY ALL THOSE WEDGES I WANT?!?!

Finally, I’ve settled on excitement. Or, nervcitement. I’m nervous to leave behind something stable and that treated me so well and that I actually enjoyed (for the most part)… but I’m also excited to tackle something new. The thought of having a little bit of time to myself and being my own boss is an incredibly exciting thought. I have my whole life to work a full-time day job… so, things are good.

Friday at 12pm is the first day of the REST OF MY LIFE!!!

{falls into canyon.... dies.}

Things Are HAPPENING!

A lot is happening in my world today. A LOT! A lot of good things. Ghood things. Great things.

But, all I have to say is... hi. 

I said hi to Casey!

then he said:

then I said: 

and he said: 

I'm glad I can still do bits with people who live 99+ miles away (according to the Find My Friends app.) I like bits. Bits are fun!

A Change Is Gonna Come

image.

This week, I was sitting on the porch, letting my franks bask in the sun when I said, “Is it just me, or does it feel like January and February didn’t happen?” 

I was GROSS this winter. God awful. I’m aware that “winter blues” and “seasonal affective disorder" are things (mainly because I work with this trash bag, Rachel, who constantly complains about it), but this is the first time I really felt it. I had given up all hope that my life was going to get better and succumbed to this constant depression. Looking back, I can for sure pinpoint some bad days (co-worker getting laid off, several bad hair days, that one AC show in Lowell) and some great days (Galentine's Day, dino-ing people's drinks, that one AC show in Lowell) but at the time, nothing felt good and everything was terrible.

If I wasn't at work, or shows, I was home in my bed, completely unable to muster the energy to do anything that didn't involve Muppets, Dick van Dyke or feeling sorry for myself. I was consistently overwhelmed and the number of naps I took increased by... 5.  There was nothing technically going on in my life that would make me feel that way (except for the fact that I was so busy!) I tried to keep it as quiet as possible - but my dumb face tends to give everything away. So I wasn't the most fun person to be around.

But who cares! Now it’s over! My postpartum depression is over! (I wish I had that excuse.) (Not really.) Spring is here. I’m hopeful. And... I don't know if you know this, but it's been a long time coming, but I know, I know, a change is gonna come. And, hey... guys... it gets better.

I am Comedian.

EXT. CORNER OF CROSS AND SALEM STREET, NORTH END. - EVENING. 

PATTY is walking five steps ahead of MATT, TREVOR and EVAN.

PATTY

(singing to the tune of Proud to be an American)
... and I'm proud to be a comedian!

MATT, TREVOR AND EVAN

(loudly)

BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My cast mates are mean.

Oh, what's that? You want to know the rest of the song? Well, sure!

where at least I know I'm funny
And I won't forget Del Close who died
and taught me to play freeze!
And I won't do stand-up!
At Mottley's!
Just wanna "yes,and" every day!
Cause there ain't no doubt
I love tag outs...
and I often do them at IA!

What's that? I should switch careers? OK, see ya!

My Year in Glasses.

when I was in college, I had to write a product description of myself for a class.  i went to school for marketing. i work at a marketing agency, but i don't work in marketing... if that makes sense. but that stuck out as one of my favorite assignments ever. me! i'm a brand! that's kind've where my glasses and clown nose logo came from as my "logo"... which I then got tattooed on my arm. i'm a nerd bird.

i think my major defining factor is my glasses. it's how everyone points me out. the girl with red hair and glasses, they say! this year, I kinda went glasses crazy. three pairs in one year. they increased in size and nerdiness. but, nonetheless, i'm over the moon about my current glasses situation. i think it's agreed across the board.

Here is my glasses transformation... over one year.

too thin, too expensive dumb glasses.

cheap, tortoise shell glasses!

the best!

also, my expressions got more and more nervous.

i don't take very attractive pictures.

Nonsense.

I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities.

- Dr. Seuss 

{i just liked that tattoo.} 

On Being The Worst.

On paper, I’m pretty cool. I’m “quirky” and a comedian and my glasses are almost as big as my face. But, thanks to society (or maybe just Pinterest) I know that I’m not living up to my cool potential. There are so many traits, possessions, hair extensions that I wish I had to be the person I really want to be.

In my mind, my apartment is super cool. I have a fridge stocked with cool beers, artisan cheeses and salty meats. Kind of like I’m always ready for a picnic at the drop of the hat. In fact, I don’t even have a kitchen table, I have a picnic blanket! I have a wall where instruments are hung up – but the only one I know how to play is the accordion. And I kill it on the accordion. Friends come over like all the time and admire the fun artwork on my frame wall while we listen to records and laugh. I do improv comedy, stay up late watching movies from the 1960’s and roll out of bed whenever the fuck I want because I’m a successful writer slash boutique breakfast place owner. My hair is super long, always has a perfect “bump” (without the use of any foam donuts) and I’m a brilliant, strategic thrifter with a closet full with vintage dresses.

In reality… my apartment is a mess. My roommate is a cat and she wakes me up by clawing my face several minutes before my alarm goes off every single morning just because she’s evil. My fridge has one can of Bud Light from a party that we threw over the summer… and half a bottle of Pinot Grigio. The first half of which I drank alone. There’s nothing else in there but a package of shredded mozzarella cheese, a rotten avocado and mustard. Instead of cool art, I have a giant picture frame filled with professional photographs of my two idiot friends. I don’t play any instruments but I do have an awesome record player! I fall asleep while watching sitcoms from the 1960’s (because I don’t have the patience for movies) and generally have an anxiety attack. I wake up too early for a job that I work to pay the bills while trying to be an improv comedian at night. I leave comedy shows to go home and eat gummy bears while watching The Muppets on YouTube. Generally my hair is a wavy mess and my closet is filled with Target dresses… and most of them are on the floor. And my friends never come over because they don't want to climb up 3,000 stairs to hang out in my tiny apartment.

Maybe I’m not the best person in the world… but I’m not the worst!

No, wait, I am. I'm the worst.

My Sunday.

Saturday evening (really Sunday morning), I went home. I could have stayed at the theatre and hung out and drank more beer. I could have gone elsewhere with a cute boy. But it was the end of a 15 hour work day and all I wanted to do was go to bed. I was so tired that I don't even remember getting into my apartment or going to bed (and I also can't find my clothes that I was wearing!) but I do know that I woke up at 11am on Sunday morning feeling refreshed, voiceless and VERY lazy.

I had a whole day planned. I was going to get my bangs trimmed and a manicure and pedicure and get a massage... but I physically couldn't get out of bed. I stayed in bed the entire day. I kept thinking, "I'll do home things. I'll do yoga and foam roll and do my own manicure and pedicure." But, no bone in my body wanted to move. I couldn't even muster the energy to get up and put a record on. Most of the day, I wasn't even watching or listening to anything. I just laid there.*

Eventually, I fell asleep to Mary Poppins (I need to get over this crush on 1960's Dick van Dyke) while Mary Poppins was singing a lullaby to the children. Yes. A lullaby worked on me. An almost 26-year-old woman. (I say "almost 26" because my birthday is in 3 months. That's almost 26, right?)

My new schedule may be getting to me. Hopefully, I'll get used to it and not spend every single Sunday in my bed. Because I really need my bangs trimmed. Like really bad.

Always A Dumb Idiot.

still a dumb idiot.

I'm a pretty nostalgic person. Most of the time, it's for a period of time that I never even lived in. Like the 50's and 60's. I watch "Mad Men" and I'm like, "Aw, man, I miss that! Smoking in restaurants! Good old-fashioned wordy advertising! Fancy gloves and hats!" Even though I have no idea what that means because I was wearing Daffy Duck shirts through the 90's. 

Man, I miss the 90's.

I'm turning 26 this year, you guys. 26. Yesterday, someone asked me how long I've been working at my company, and my response of "Four years." hit me like a brick to the mother effin face. I'm not "just out of college" age anymore! I graduated college four years ago. When your time out of college is the amount of time you spent in college... you're a real, live adult.

I'm not afraid of getting older at all. In fact, I'm happy with my age and my life thus far! I've accomplished things I never even thought I'd accomplish. My "scary age" is well into my 30's, and maybe even 40's at this point. But, still... nostalgia creeps its way in and I feel old and sad. I saw a picture of me and my friends at 16, dressed up in weird costumes (because we made a "funny" video) on Facebook the other day and I wanted to die because it was terrible and I was hideous. But, I'm still very close friends with a majority of the people in the picture (all but one, really) and most of them are still my best friends. I couldn't believe all that happened in the 10 years that picture was taken, and reminded me how simple life was when I was 16!

Yet, even 10 years later, I'm dressing up in costumes, making videos and taking silly pictures with my friends (for a living, even!) So, things change (I'M MUCH BETTER LOOKING NOW) but... I'm still a dumb idiot. And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Thank You.

print found here.

The beginning to my year has been... rocky. Just undeniably stressful and I have a difficult time managing stress (and how I act based on it.) Between my day job, rehearals every day, shows with two different casts, teaching, writing... I've just had a difficult time not going absolutely crazy. Mainly because I don't sleep as much.

Now, this is going to sound corny (like everything I say), but the one thing that has kind of kept me together is the fact that A) I'm doing what I love and B) I'm staying true to myself. If you asked me five years ago where I'd be in five years, I would have said, "God, I don't even want to know." But I think I'm in a place now that the 20-year-old version of me would be really excited about. And I'm enjoying myself and doing what I love, and sure that comes with a price and a lot of hard work. But at the end of the day, I feel good and happy with my career. And that's wonderful.

And the B. part to that is that I feel good about the fact that every day I'm being honest with myself, and everyone else, about who I am and what I want. I'm unapologetically nerdy. This is who I am... I like to flirt, I like attention, I like having fun with my friends, I can be a total selfish bitch, I don't let people walk all over me, I only like to listen to Motown and Michael Jackson and occasionally something new and different but I always find myself back with my old favorites, I'm clumsy, I'm a fan of a drink at the end of a long day and, god damnit, I like myself. At the very least, I've got that going for me.

Being you is a good you to be. 

That's all. Carry on.

: )

And so we've come, to the end of the week.

I don't want to brag or anything, but I had a pretty good week. At least it started out really great and I rode that high for a loooooooong time. I was just lucky enough that other good things happened while I was riding that high! Plus, can you believe Thanksgiving is next week? I have so many viewings of The Muppets to attend!

Here are some things I found that I enjoyed. There's too many things I love to dedicate one post a week to it:

My friends Matt and Richie met their goal on Kickstarter and got their web series fully funded! Excited for them! (P.s. I'm going to be in it!)

This Otis Redding song is killer. I just love him.

Conan O'Brien's version of Polk Salad Annie. I saw it live when he came to Boston... I've had it in my head all week.

Lauren Conrad just gets me.

Just typing "Christmas" on Pinterest makes me stupidly giddy.

One of the students in the classes I intern for/new friend of mine, Andy, blew up on the internet last week for live tweeting a break up in a Burger King!

Ettiquette of a Lady.

Whatever, I love Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake.  Silly.

Planking.

Cavan got in on the planing trend while walking around Boston last weekend. I love that picture so much because his outfit blends in with the scenery.

But... nothing compares to this one:

Boy! Do we have fun or what!