Thursday, October 22, 2009

Nails Never Point Toward the Prime Meridian

A Declaration :
No matter how rich, famous, important or grown up I may or may not become I will always take the opportunity to crunch a crispy autumn leaf. Even if it has fallen at a time other than autumn.

Life is in a constant state of change despite my desire & desperate attempts to keep it regimented. Formerly sedated compulsions are seeping through.

Unexpected love. The artist formerly known as Jem. Swept me away I suppose one could say.

Mostly. I say.


Sent an important email today. Several in fact. One response already releasing me from the hellhole in which I have been living since August. As of November 1st I am a leaf on the wind. Hopefully finding some place to land before then. Hoping not to be crunched. With all of my things. I have a lot of things. It would be hard to crunch them all.

Can and cannot wait to hear from another. An interesting feeling, tweaking ones heart just enough to make it slightly harder to breathe.

Too many ways to communicate these days. Noted mildly ironically as I perpetuate another form. Too many things to stay updated on, to accidently ignore someone on. To purposefully ignore someone on. It hurts to be rejected in real life. But for some reason to be rejected virtually stings in a new worse way. Hours spent refining an internet persona and still not what they want. New pain for a new world.

Vingt-Quatre Ans. Many years I have become. So suddenly it seems. Much to do by next year. Much to do in 356 days. Much to do about Everything. With so much to do it makes sitting, responding to emails seem so inconsequential. Lackadaisical even. Except it's probably through email that I will somehow do what needs to be done to cross it off my list.

Is that Irony? I've never truly understood the meaning.

I'll go ask Alanis.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Transcending Lava Surpasses Minefield.

When you wake up it is good to remember you are not dead so you do not forget to open your eyes.

I am currently being cuddled by 20lbs of black lab puppy love. She is my baby for the week. She peed in my kitchen. Twice. But she's made up for it in kisses.

Adventure with a boy today. I will call him Jem. We shared coffee of the iced variety. He took his black. I'm not sure how he felt about the guava cake. But he knew how to handle my puppy. If you know what I mean. And you should. It means he knew how to walk my dog. It was really cute.

Went to an acting workshop tonight. It was good. But not the same. I miss my summer company. My summer loves. I do hope we all (well, almost all. nothing is ever 100%. until it is. and then its perfect and according to the hindus you become a cow.) transcend the evanescence of summer romance and continue to grow together as real live people. I think we will. And those who don't clearly were never meant to be cows in the first place.

I wish i had a Pensieve. A la Harry Potter. There are moments I wish I knew the details to. The slightest touch. Which way a crooked smile leaned. What exact words were said. The missed beat of a heart. How many pieces of pie were eaten. Finding the balance between past & present is hard. To be in the present you are a compilation of your past. But you can't waste too much time remembering who you were then because you'd lose the chance to create the future you now. Life is very complicated. Not life. Time. No life.

Both probably.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Skyline Inclined Solitude

Los Angeles is filled with anything but Angels. Except that I've met two people by the name this week.

Fighting fatigue. Fighting boredom. Fighting through what must be done in order to just do. Considering that art is often used to question politics its political system is not so surreptitiously daunting. Possibly a problem to be played.

I find my brick walls and hardwood floors inspirational. The sight of which automatically creates a nostalgia for a time I never lived. Things crumbled slower then.

Back in LA. Back home. In a home anyway. In the process of making it mine. A lifetime passed this summer in Connecticut. In the Newest London. The oldest acres. New friends. Broken hearts. Drunken revelry. Good art & bad. A foreshadowing for what will come to pass. Deep cuts. Man made. Once made. Re-made. Los Angeles seeks rejuvenation through Botox. Todays forecast : Potential for potholes. 85%.

Must see what else LA has to offer.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Flinging Manatees

I will be back in LA in 72 hours. Less really but I'm too lazy to do the math. 1:55pm Wednesday.

Much to do. Little time to do it. Alas. It will get done won't it? It has to I suppose. 

I should be asleep. I am not. I just got home from a night out with a boy. Most fun. Most comfortable. Wonderful theatrical conversation. That is, conversation relating to the topic of theatre. Although, being actors I assume we did come off as rather theatrical to those around us. 

I'm excited to go and sad to leave. How wonderful it has been to grow closer to family. Family is taken for granted in this time I think. Knowing it's so easy to call or skype or shoot a text. That is great and all. But it's not the same as being there, knowing each other, being apart of each other's lives. I'm glad I've had this opportunity. I hope I will have it again. I hope it will motivate us to stay close and to bring the rest in with us. 

I miss my mama on this mother's day. All of them. My grandma(s) my aunt(s) my theatre mama, but more than anyone I miss the only one I got. My one & only mama. I am lucky. Lucky I am to have such a woman in my life. Resilient. Forgiving. Selfless. Fashionable. Intelligent. Hilarious. My mother is fabulous. She is a woman beyond measure. One who continues to answer the phone even if she knows it's me calling to cry. again. She answers. And let's me be me, no matter how crazy i may be. She doesn't know it, probably wouldn't believe me if she did. But i pray every night to be strong like her. To be half as strong as her. She is the pillar of sanity in the psychosis of our family. We are all lost, yet she is found. And she is my pillar. My pillar of strength that I lean on, that i strive toward, that one day i will replace & allow to rest. She is my mama. She is mine. And I thank god each night for that. 

Monday, April 20, 2009

An Asbestos Patina

I am the worst blogger ever. I will try to do better in my blogging future.

I have a return date to the Sunny Side. MAY 15th!

I applied for the Director's Lab West (WEBSITE)and have been waiting and waiting to find out my status. AND FINALLY I get an email.


I did not get in.


BUT. It was because I was too young/early in my career. And they enjoyed my application so much that they offered me an internship for the week so I can attend the workshop anyway (while also getting to meet all the organizers at the Pasadena Playhouse & the Boston Court...better deal? Um. Yes.).

This means I will actually get to help my poor Leslita in finding our apartment. Woot.


The Last month has been insane. literally. i've gone a little insane due to lack of sleep, exercise and proper nutrition. I've been surviving off espresso, excedrin & the occasional muffin. 80 hour work weeks are a bitch. But you can do anything for 6 weeks if you need to. Really really need to. And i did. And it was worth. The Guthrie. So Worth It.

9x9x9  has closed. It went extremely well if i do say so myself. Packed houses. Lots of laughs. No wardrobe malfunctions. 

Caroline or Change! Opens at the Guthrie this Friday in turn ending my commitment to them. It has been a ride. Mostly one where I sit quietly and observe. So more like a bench you sit on after the ride, or before. In this case, it's definitely before. I have a good feeling about where my career is going. Really good. I haven't been proud of myself in a long time. I find it hard to do. to even admit to myself, let alone to others. But I think I'm proud. Yes. Yes I do. 

Hopefully soon I won't just think it...

Love & moira. 

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Rubber Stockings

I realize. I am not a good blogger. I am too easily distracted by life to maintain my internet persona. However, I am in the midst of putting together my website, which hopefully I will be better at maintaining both for personal & business reasons. 

I have given up facebook for lent. That internet persona i maintain, do i dare admit, hourly ceases to exist until Easter. Week one is completed. Lent has never been this hard before. 

My first show has gone up Cigarettes for Jesus. Check out the Website... the two reviews are good! Which makes me excited... WEBSITE!

I am in rehearsals for my next show. 9x9x9. WEBSITE! It is most fun. I will be basically naked the entire time, bikini (as seen on postcard) or sexy underwears... Working out... NOW. 

I can't believe how fast my time here is going. Work is good. Acting is good. I am waiting to hear about the timing on my directing internship at the Guthrie. EEK! I am so pumped. 

Apparently I moved to Minneapolis during the coldest winter they've had since 1984. That's before i was born. 

Then I'm going back to LA. Bets on if it'll be the hottest summer since '84? Ugh. 

Had my first webisode sitcom shoot. SUPER fun. I'm really excited to see where it goes. The boys i'm working with are such sweeties. I'm in the process of convincing one of them (the writer. duh, what do you expect?) to move to LA with me because where else is he going to write sitcoms? Duh. 

Also. I think I have my next 2-3 years mapped out... and if they all go accordingly and I end up in grad school Fall 2011 then i'll have the next 4-5 years mapped. Oooo... i love plans & goals and etc. Especially in a world with no plans. No procedure manuals.

But i guess that isn't just my world. it transcends the theatrics to reality. People die in reality. On stage they get back up. I don't want to leave my blackbox. Get back up I say. I am the director. God is director out there. Or worse...there is no one directing. Death around me makes me want to say things I wouldn't if I wasn't reminded it could be tomorrow. It makes me want to beg. To feel the cold. To be touched. To smell the Ocean. To be kissed. To see the stars. To eat ice cream. To run harder. To take pictures. To say I love you. 

And I do. I love you. 

Monday, February 16, 2009

Sealing Ties Together Flannel

I'm not sure what's happening to me right now but I kind of feel like I'm having a heart attack. I am sitting perfectly still in my apartment, minding my own business reading and running amuck on the internet and out of no where my heart starts pounding out of my chest. I can feel it in my ears. My head is starting to ache. Ever since my health insurance ran out in January i've waited for this moment. The moment my heart would explode or my leg would actually break or my asthma would pummel my lungs, or a bus would hit me. Because that'll be the moment I really regret. And i think it may be right now. Maybe. Or maybe there's just a ghost in the room and only my heart knows it.

I read 'The Old Man and the Sea' the other day. I think it may be my new favorite. I've been mulling over why it struck me so. I can't figure it out. It is so simple. The structure the phrasing the diction. all so simple. But from the beginning all i could do was pray, literally pray to god, that this old man would bring home that fish. And when he didn't. I cried. But what was so fantastic was that really, he hadn't failed. He had won. Great success was found in his ultimate failure. And could one ever hope for anything more? Great success found in success is typical, to be found a success because of a grand failure. That is legendary. That is where truth is found.

I am working on a play. I like my role. I like what I have done with it. I have taken great strides in my personal work ethic in acting and have spent a great deal of time working with the script on my own. I am proud of what I am accomplishing. I am not proud of the show. I am almost torn telling people to come see it, because despite my work, my effort I do not want to be associated with a bad show and at this point I can't see how it won't be. Because to put it bluntly one of the four actors in it sucks. Sucks worse than virgin on prom night. And it is sad. Because I want to not be annoyed. I want to not be a diva. I want to not be a bitch. But lets face it, i'm a bitch and i'm annoyed. And in this moment i'm going to whine like a diva. Why, on not only my Minneapolis debut but also my professinal debut in acting do I have to be working with idiots? Why do idiots even exist in this field? I have worked my ass off everyday since I was 12 years old to get into a good college where I could be rigourously trained in my profession in order to work professionally with other well trained people. WHO THE FUCK ARE THESE IDIOTS?! And why must they flock to me? Always?!

And Scene. No more diva bitching... today.

An Aside:
My new favorite quote is as follows...
"all life is just a progression toward and then recession from, one phrase - "I love you"" from one of Fitzgerald's short stories.

A Summing Up:
I love life right now. I wonder if that's why my heart is beating so fast. I think love is the only reason it should ever beat this way.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Lake Balloon Hydrogen

The irony of life is that as soon as you demand something to not happen it does. At least in my life anyway.

The amount of decent guys I have met in the last 4 weeks since arriving here in the middle of the country is starting to get ridiculous. It's unfair really. Because I just don't care. Well, I obviously care enough to write about it, but I don't care enough to pick up the phone.

I am now working on three play projects. One short goes up on Valentines Day at the annual LOVE BITES festival, the other at the end of February and the last is 9x9x9 in April. 

I am working on two film projects. One the episodic sitcom web series where I will be playing a heightened and much more ridiculous version of myself (if possible). The other a local film maker's thesis project "God is Good." Which he plans on submitting to a few festivals before making the move to LA. Hopefully both will end up being awesome and good enough to start building a better reel... go me attempting to actually pursue my craft.

I'm also meeting with two photographers this week about modeling gigs. I also work every morning at a coffee shop. And start my 2nd job as a beer bitch tomorrow night. Life just got crazy busy. 


It was beautiful here on Saturday. A toasty above freezing 33 degrees. But seriously i took off my hat and gloves unzipped my jacket and basked in the sun for a good 45 minutes before rehearsal reading and getting my face tan on. It was beautiful watching everything melt and rain around me only to watch it freeze again 24 hours later. That's when I fell down for the first time. Rachel fell down and went splat. 

Saturday night was the infamous THE OFFICE themed party Lacey & I had been planning. A glorious night. A night of total commitment to costumes, character and obliterating drunkness. First off I looked like a man, a really unsexy man. I went so far as to cut some of my bangs super short just so I could gel them down in the reverse horn direction that Dwight does so nicely every Thursday from 9 to 930pm. And then I proceeded to obliterate myself like I had never done before. Pushing myself across that point of no return around 1am-ish with a "one of everything" in honor of Michael, Meredith & the Moroccan Christmas. About 20 minutes after this was when I started making inapproriate texts and phone calls, throwing up in beds that were not mine then proceeding to burst into tears and call my Mama. Who I later had to convince of the fact that I had not been rufied. Oh Mama, you think so much more of me than you should. 

Woops. The worst and possibly best part of this entire situation was basically all of the people who I had invited based on one maybe two times meets had shown up and proceeded to stay until the puking portion of our evening. Ugh. Today one them (who plays my husband in play #2) said, well think of it this way. We've seen you at your worst there's only one way to go from here. Thanks honey.

The pictures though. I have to say are fabulous. I am going to send them to Dwight at the OFFICE. And hopefully he'll be my friend. Or they'll invite me on for a guest spot. You know. Whatever. I'm not typically that kind of fan, but after seeing the pictures I don't know how I can't show them to him. He deserves it. I'd want someone to show me if I were him and someone cut their bangs to look like me.



Sunday, January 25, 2009

Liquified Catacombs Combust

I have a previous entry I am working on. More of a short story of a moment in my life rather than an update or quickie. (

I can cross something off my LIFE TO DO list. I have thrown a drink in a boy's face. Granted it was water. Granted it was during a murder mystery party game. Granted I wasn't myself I was Penelope Hughes, his wife. BUT nonetheless I did it. FOUR times. HA. One day... one day I'll really do it and it will be grand. GRAND I tell you. Like a nice piano.

I met with the leader of the sitcom today. He is very adorable. Young & wide eyed. I love to see hope & promise, even if it is only a few years younger than me and untainted by hollywood. I actually love to see anything untainted by Hollywood.

I've realized I adapt quickly. The first week here it was -30 degrees at night. Now it averages 20 degrees and I can walk around with my coat unzipped. I like my adaptability. Being raised by a group who's motto was 'show no weakness' may have had something to do with that.

A boy hugged me goodbye tonight and while doing so picked me up. I like being picked up by boys.

The LOST season premiere. Mildly disappointing. Was not a premiere. It was...informative but not riveting. It didn't leave me craving the next episode. I mean, I'll watch it, I'll always watch it...but. Let's step it up J.J..

There are nights when I wake up desperately hanging on to the fleeting moments of my dreams while simultaneously dreaming I had never slept sound enough to create them.

I'm going to learn to kick box.

I'm bored.

I think I need a partner in crime.

Or at least someone to hold my hand.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Tactile Kaleidoscopes

JANUARY 23, 2009

I met a boy.

Wednesday I went to Liquor Lyles. Alone. I went to a bar alone. Here is the question. Am I awesome because I was able to go sit alone and have a good time. Or am I an alcoholic? For now I'm going to believe I'm just awesome.

Sitting at the bar drinking my 2 for 1 alcoholic cider a guy starts talking to me from a few seats away. The problem is, I couldn't hear him. I think he may have actually started talking to me much earlier but his voice hadn't quite dropped yet. Finally I respond with a high volumed 'What'? After which he finally raises his voice high enough to hear. Ugh. I make friendly conversation until another guy sits down next to me. A much needed distraction from trying my best to hear what guy #1 has to say about making clothes in his friend's garage, I'm already a little deaf people come on. Ever wondered why I talk so loud, I blame it on theatre & projection, nope. Just a little bit hard of hearing. I'm going to be a great old person.

#2 Sits down & orders up "the cheapest beer" which I mock inside my head. But apparently louder than normal because he turns to me & says what. Then I think, maybe guy #1 hadn't been trying to talk to me, maybe he was mocking me under his breath. Hmmmm.

#1 Attempts to not so nonchalantly gets annoyed at the beginnings of my convo with #2. I pretend to not notice. He begins to talk louder. Finally. I see what it takes. It doesn't take me, it takes a sword fight.

Out of no where #1 has a friend appear. His friend, #3, who belongs to the garage in which he makes clothes! He is what some people refer to as a wingman. He was a little late. If they had been flying the nazis definitely would have shot them down. Although, in this scenario I'd gage them more on the nazi side of the situation. Snoopy would have got them for sure.

Here is where the game begins. The game. As in that which boys play with girls & against each other. Someone wrote about it in a book. It's called the Game. Inventive. Thank you male species for all you do.

#1 continues to talk to me. I continue to nod because I can't understand the words coming out of his mouth. Occasionally I say. OMG. It adds a certain, i care what you're saying quality that nodding alone doesn't. #2 continues to talk to me. My mind does not function on this many levels. Especially having only had 1 round of 2:4:1s. Then it gets complicated, because #1 begins to talk to #2.

#1 has on a hat. It says Sabor. The name of his clothing line he makes in his friend, #3's, garage. #2 says, "cool. i love his work." #1 says, "thanks. made it myself." #2 says "ummm. I meant Sabor. The artist." #1 says "who?" #2 says "the famous graffiti artist. he has world records and shit." (#2 was a little ghetto. but in a white community college way.). #3 jumps in - "no man that's our clothing line." #2 "well you better get on google because that name is taken, yo." Swords collide!


The set up is like so:

#2 ME #1 #3

Like Jeff Goldbloom* in Jurassic Park, i stay perfectly still. And when they are distracted by each others pheromones i slowly back away. Literally. I leave. I go to the bathroom. I slowly reapproach because despite the idea of having to face #1, #3 I did enjoy the company & mildly witty banter of #2. I arrive and find my seat next to #2 occupied by #3. They are talking business. Garage clothing copywrite name stealing business. They welcome me back. Well #3 doesn't. #1 does. I think. I couldn't hear him. And #2 thanks me with his eyes. I lean into the bartender and request my check because even for a swf on a Wednesday night alone at a bar this has become a little too much. I peace/'SC fight sign #1, #3 who may have said goodbye but A. Only dogs could hear it and B. I was walking away. #2 follows me out and walks me to my door. Which is next door. It was a short walk. We hug. I get his phone number. That order may have been reversed. And as I go to save his number I realize something. I realize I have no idea what his name is. And let me tell you. It is way too late to ask. There's a time period during which it is ok to reask someone's name, but after all he & I had been through tonight sword fighting #1 & #3, the proverbial parrying we had each performed for the other. It was too late. Thus he became known & will henceforth be referred to as Graffiti. No Last Name.


Drinking alone at a bar. Ok. As long as you know how to sword fight. And mock people silently in your head. Not silently in the way that you think you aren't saying it out loud but you actually are. Unless of course you're mocking someone cute. Who can graffiti your name on a cocktail napkin.

Graffiti and I met up the next day for coffee. I went in nameless & used every tactic I could to get him to say his name. Including talking about myself in the third person so he'd know it was ok to do the same.

About 45 minutes he became known as SBrandt. Last name: Graffiti.

*(ok. fine. it was Sam Neill. Jeff Goldbloom wasn't even in the scene. But his name has greater dramatic effect.)

Monday, January 19, 2009

Temptation Peninsula

An actual update.

1 - I got a job today! I will be barista-ing again. This time for a midwest coffee chain called Caribou Coffee. You can buy their products at your local grocer.

2 - I GOT CAST IN A PLAY! And they are paying me a very very minute amount to be in it! I am officially a real live stage actress. (I say stage, because I became a real live actress in general when I got my first IMDB credit this fall.)

3 - I auditioned for a class at the Guthrie & got in! I had the first one today. It is taught by Raye Birk, who thus far I like very much. I can't wait to put up a scene next week...I'm debating which one right now. I was also reminded about my one, little tiny problem I have with the career I have chosen. I HATE listening to actors talk. I feel this, I emote that, I went with this vibe. SHUT IT. Just do your job.

4 - Leslie called with what sounded like an amazing apartment to move into when I get back to LA. A LOFT. Affordable. 24 hour gym. Downtown. Across the street from a theatre. 

5 - I'm reading a mystery novel called 'The Last Templar' and I swear every religious fiction book I read makes me think about throwing it all away to be Indiana Jones. But the girl version. Indianna Jones. 

6 - I ran to my job interview today. Like literally. I wore running clothes and ran the 2.1 miles there and changed in the bathroom (I've learned I do not sweat in the cold). As I was doing this, I realized, or I suppose I should say my lungs realized we were not at sea level anymore. That half marathon is going to be a serious accomplishment. 

7 - Overall I can honestly say things are going way better than I could have anticipated. (feel free to knock on wood for me, i already did)If Leslie hadn't called taunting me tonight with our beautiful LA Loft, I would seriously consider possibly maybe on the one hand or another staying here a little longer. We'll see. But now that I have a rent paying job, am in a play & in a class, I'm honestly not really sure what my next step is. Is this was being content feels like? I never want to be 'content' what a pallid word. Boring. I will have to think of my next step asap...possibly trying to get my Medea script produced...finding something to direct...get an agent... I guess we'll just have to wait and see...

Oh yeah. I joined match. com on a 3 day free trial to make some, errr, friends. Let's just say it's been less that 12 hours and it. is. amazing. Many. Many. Many. Updates to come. 


Friday, January 16, 2009

A Thimble of Oil

I am reading a play which presents the following character description :

Fran Lowenstein : Tough, sensitive, a feminist.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Peanut Butter Pitas Can Be Tamed.

The saddest part of theatre for a young single girl in a new city is when you go see a show starring 5 cute boys statistics show that over half of them will be gay. This show wasn't any different. At least it blasphemed the Catholic Church so, being raised Catholic, I got all the inside jokes. The inside jokes with Catholic God.


He's a funny one.

Underneath Boulders Mirrors are Made.

I had my first audition today. For my cousin's company's spring show.

Ummm... it went, not awesome. (new monologue, ugh.) Except for after it went not awesome I got like 15 times to make up for it because I, alongside Lacey, was used as a reader for everyone else. So, no matter what happens I at least feel better about it. AND have gotten the first time jitters out of my new monologue which I like, except for the parts about it I don't. Literally just getting to audition & read a script with people, just that minor excursion into that realm of being, pumped me up more than I can explain. God. I am so excited to be here. I have multiple auditions lined up over the next couple weeks. It's amazing how much theatre is here. I feel like a kid in a candy store. 

And...I'm a dork. Officially Notarized. 

On a different note, the official Facebook invite is out for The Office 'Lanch Party'. January 31st. Meeting lots of people at once will be very nice. However, I will be dressed as Dwight, mustard shirt, glasses, mannerisms & all. So, not sure how well that'll win people over. I guess we'll see. We'll just see...

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Some Mushrooms are Carnivorous. Probably.

I met a boy. A real boy. Not a 40:60 boy. Although by the end of the conversation I was thinking 60:40. But that's besides the point.

Saturday night was very much like Friday night. In the beginning. I was alone. In my sweats. But then Lacey came home and put on her sweats and I was not alone. So here we are together, not alone on a Saturday night, in our sweats, in our apartment, in the big city, in the COOL part of the big city, sitting on the couch watching Season 1 of the Office. Now, you may be thinking, why Season 1? Isn't it the worst of all the seasons? And yes, would be the answer to that question. But, in our attempts to bond after an 11 year separation forced upon us by unforeseen circumstances like all the states between california and minnesota, we decided to throw a party. A "the Office" themed party. I called Dwight. So, to answer my original question, we are watching Season 1 of the Office for Research. Obviously. And Necessary. 

However, we reach a point between Diversity & Basketball that we decide, perhaps, on my first Saturday in the big city we should at least go out. Simply to say we moved outside of the apartment on this fine subzero degreed night. So. We change out of our comfortable warm sweats put on some leg warmers & multi-colored sequenced shoes (that was actually just me) and we journey outside, down Bryant, take the first left, pass the Coffee shop that is the best one I've been to thus far but not what I'm looking for in a hangout, take a left on Lyndale and we arrive. At the RED DRAGON. Famous for its "Wonderous Punch" a fishbowl drink that is 95% alcohol. Possibly 97%.

We walk in, grab a booth and we each order one. Obvi. Then what happened that isn't so obvi, a boy sits down. At a table diagonal from me. Well, a few do, but really only the one matters. I smile. He smiles. Lacey laughs at me mockingly. We move on, because, well, only in someone else's life do I have the balls to do anything about the cute guy in the booth diagonal from me (perhaps a future new years resolution possibility). And only in some 5'10", 112lb blonde's life is he motivated enough to move from the comfort of his booth. So, Lacey whips out her new planner (see, we're the same, I'm telling you) and we begin planning our The Office party. Official Facebook invite pending.

Halfway thru my WP I inevitably have to go to the bathroom. Because I have a bladder smaller than an 87 year old cancer patient. Upon my return Lacey winks, gets up and with a smirk says "good luck."

Uh. Ok. She got drunk & crazy faster than usual. Except. Before she rounds the corner, he stands, and before I can tell it not to, my face turns a deep shade of red  and he sits. In my booth. WITH ME. Well, across from me. But WITH ME. In accordance with Tid Bit #1, I stop drinking. Total usage of remaining brain cells is absolutely necessary. He introduces himself, we'll call him, Spatrick, I return the introduction. My face starts to return to a slightly normal, though still noticeably rosey complexion. I've always hated my face. And it's tendency to blush. What a waste of blood supply. How will I ever make it in the CIA if I can't stop myself from blushing when a cute boy talks to me, that's all Jennifer Gardner ever did in ALIAS. 

Long story longer than the short story - We talk. He has his own business doing something. We both love TV on DVD. I do theatre. He does not read. And the fun surprise weekend job, he works at a gay bar, named Tickles (hence the 60:40). So, ok, maybe the boy isn't going to a Mensa meeting anytime soon, maybe he couldn't beat out a 6th grader in a spelling bee, but the boy is c-u-t-e. Possibly even hot depending what his tattoos actually look like. He has 3. He & his friends are moving on to a different bar that I don't know & that is not within walking distance at midnight. Being absolutely awesome Lacey says she'll go with me if I want, but me, being me doesn't really want to put that much effort into a first meeting (no matter how c-u-t-e he is) preferring of course to convince myself this lack of effort is actually beneficial because it helps in creating an allure of mystery & desire...having already inputted his name & number into my phone we depart saying we'll call them in a bit letting them know our plan after meeting up with John. Having no actual intention of doing this Lacey walks to John's and I walk home. After the perfectly allotted 37 minutes has passed between then & our departure from the RED DRAGON I look up his number to give him a call letting him know our decision not to come back out but to console him with the fact that the future holds a plethora of opportunities. I go to contacts, I find Spatrick's name and click the green phone. Nothing happens. I try again. Nothing. Ok... I think to myself, knowing my phone is generally temperamental & perhaps it's just that time of the month, I go check out his contact information and what do I discover? There is no phone number.


Spatrick put in his full name but somehow did not manage to put in his number. Now, you may be thinking, Rachel, honey, perhaps this was his way of blowing you off without totally embarrassing you. But this is what I say to each and everyone of you. NO. And you'll just have to trust me and/or Lacey of this fact. 

Shortest story - Spatrick had managed to not save his number in my phone. And what do I do after discovering this fact? Laugh. Duh. Because my life is a sitcom. Some of you understand this better than others, because often times you are there. Laughing. Now I just need a coffee shop here where I can go and mock my daily life. And also friends here to do this with. Instead, I ended up alone, in my sweats, Saturday night, watching the Office Season 3. 

Well. I wasn't totally alone.

Harlequin was there. 

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Fire is Cold.

My Dearest Friends & Family,

I have safely made it to my most current of desired destinations (despite the 16 hour bus ride from Detroit that, to use a non-derogative word was to say the least, 'colorful.' No wait, that was derogative, but only considering my bus ride). I am here. MINNEAPOLIS. Curled up in sweats and a blanket, my newest Ikea purchase, Harlequin, the giant rolley polley bug with zippable mouth, lies here next to me. New city, new friend. He was who I cuddled as I fell asleep last night, Friday night, after  watching several hours of Grey's Anatomy. Alone. For hours I debated changing into clothes, possibly even showering, and even doing the required multiple layers of bundling up to make the trek down the stairs to the bar next door, Liquor Lyles. But then I didn't. Because of all the effort that would have involved. Well, that, and the issue i have with drinking alone. If you must know, I say yes to it, but only in pajamas in the comfort of your own home where you only have jiminy cricket & your conscious to judge you for it. Hopefully not more than 4 times a week. I mean 2. I draw the line at being the girl from LA who drinks by herself at the bar on a Friday night. ...Or do I? Is what I asked myself multiple times. I guess we'll just have to wait until next week to see...

I hate not being busy. Every so often i pull out my new 2009 leather bound planner hoping I can think of a future event or even a previously forgotten birthday I can mark down. But as days go on I have run out of birthdays to write down. I have run out of stupid made up holidays to remember. I need to find somethings to do simply to write them down or i will begin this new year, this new adventure, by losing myself completely. Because who am I without my planner? I'm not asking you, I'm probably the only one who knows how truly crucial my planner is to my personal psychosis. I suppose I try not to announce my little slightly insane tendencies to the world. I just write about them. For the entirety of the internet. 

I met a boy. My second day here. Actually I met several. But only one followed up. I was 40:60 on his sexuality. I guess when you play gay in a play it tends to seep over into your actual persona. That seems to be the trend I've observed anyway. On my 4th day I was sitting with my cousin, Lacey, (who I am living with) and her sarcastic, wannabe jewish, slightly offensive, adorable boyfriend, John. We get along because I am sarcastic, overtly offensive & a wannabe (just in general, my wannabe goals change daily to match the shoes I'm wearing.). He receives a text message from the boy, lets call him... Sryan. Despite John's warnings of Syan's stalking potential, Lacey & I find it the perfect opportunity to overindulge next door & possibly make another human being extremely uncomfortable. John begrudgingly arranges our meeting for that evening. Sryan gets off to a bad start by arriving right as I reach the climax of the book I was reading. Typical. We meet up next door, sit in a slightly too cozy booth and start drinking. A picture next the booth reads "Jack & Tina met in this very booth in 1966 and are still happily married." I of course read this aloud, commenting on the obvious sweetness of this. There is silence. Uh oh, i think inside my head. I hope this boy with stalker potential doesn't get any ideas. We start to drink. Now, here's a little tid-bit about me. If I like someone I'm attempting to talk to I very rarely eat or drink anything because I'm easily distracted and need to focus on what they're saying and what I need to respond with in order to make me equally as awesome. And if the opposite, eating & drinking gives you something to do besides making conversation. And if you're drinking alcohol it makes everyone much more interesting & makes me much better at faking it. By the end of the first 10 minutes I had consumed half a pitcher of beer and ordered multiple appetizers. 


Then i ate them. All of them. I love mini-corndogs. 


We wrap it up at Liquor Lyles and we (Lacey, John & I) are drunk enough to suggest continuing the evening in our apartment. We do. Before everyone is even in the apartment I have gone to my room closed the door and changed into sweats. Tid Bit #2 about me. In terms of boys/dating/etc. there are two reasons I change into sweats. One, is that we've reached the point in our dating and/or relationship where I go, "I'm coming over in sweats. deal with it." And from there gage a guy's reaction to handling me in my most comfortable of states. OR. I change into them halfway through our first hangout because I'm absolutely not attracted to you and don't mind you judging me for my relaxed look. Uh oh.

The night proceeds thru a game of Cranium TURBO. Where Lacey & I realize we're basically the same person, but in a good way, not in the you hate the people who secretly remind you of yourself kind of way. And therefore we may or may not have destroyed John & Sryan at Cranium. I actually don't recall the specifics of the end of the game...but it's what I assume. Long story shorter than the long story... Sryan eventually leaves. Pogi, John's heterosexual life partner & roommate, comes over. John takes his shirt off. Pogi puts on Lacey's, and I end up in my torn white trash wife beater. John gets a text from Sryan saying how awesome the night was. We all sigh collectively. Then we go to bed. 

The next day, I jokingly ask John about Sryan's impressions. He just shakes his head.

Apparently the booth picture gave him some ideas.