LOOK AT ME!!!

Am I too selfish in wanting everyone to know me? I want everyone to want me, without necessarily wanting them in return. Is this just how I think, or does everyone feel that way? I mean, I know we all want to be wanted by that "special someone" but I want everyone to admire me, be in awe of me, want me to know that they too exist in my world. God, that sounded so snobbish, but that's exactly how I've felt my entire life. Perhaps that mentality is what entertainers are made of. Ever since I was a little kid I wanted everyone to know who I was and what I'm capable of doing. Wanting to shine might just be my greatest strength and weakness. As a kid I'd do whatever I could to be in the spotlight. I did school talent shows; I would always volunteer to speak in front of the class for group projects; I even signed up to carry the cross to the altar at the beginning of mass despite the agony I felt being at church. Whatever I could do to get an audience, I would do it. I just want to be seen and heard, and not in the way my generation wants to be seen and heard either. I mean, nowadays its all reality shows and social networks, "ooh look at me! I have a baby!" I get it... someone fucked you. I'm not looking for people to just stare at me in my everyday life- I want people to see my work. I want them to come to my shows and hear my jokes; go online and watch my videos; read this blog; download my podcast. I feel like I'm capable of so much greatness and if I just had the resources and the audience to back me up, the possibilities would be limitless for me.

I don't think I'm egotistical. I feel like I have a good grip on reality. But everyone in the entertainment industry has to have some ego to get anywhere in this business, otherwise why bother? If you don't think you are good, then why should anyone else? I feel I'm a good judge of myself and my work. I know when a joke does poorly, and I know when one does superbly well. My parents are probably to thank for that. They raised me with this mentality of "You can be whatever you want to be... unless that thing is a dancer, cause you don't have rhythm, but we'll still come to your dance recitals." They were, and still are, encouraging, supportive, yet real with me. They've seen me perform stand up many times and I remember one night, at a comedy competition, I didn't do so great. I had an off night. My mom asked me how I thought I did, and I told her, "It didn't suck, but it wasn't my best." and she said, "Yeah, it wasn't your best. We voted for you of course, but we voted for Dan too- we really liked Dan." I believe Dan did move on that round, and I didn't, as I shouldn't have. My parents didn't hurt my feelings, they were honest and supportive. Quite a blessing to have.

ANYWAY- I feel like I've rambled, it's 230am and I'm not sure how to end this mess of a blog. GOODNIGHT.

Saving Me.

It's hard to write when my mind is so cluttered with so many different issues, and distractions, and emotions. How am I to decide on what one thing to talk about right now? I think its why I've avoiding writing a new post for as long as I have.

I keep having these really deep, meaningful conversations with my friend after consuming alcohol and being out til the next day. It bothers me a bit because of the previously mentioned elements, it's hard for me to remember everything about the conversations- everything that was said. But I remember how I felt in that moment, and it's amazing. It's crazy how connected you feel with another person. I always thought I was really close with some of my friends, and I am- I'm not saying we're not close... What I am saying is that, well I don't know what I'm saying; I don't know how to articulate it. Perhaps there are no words. It just feels right.

Sometimes there are just things you know, or at least you have to believe that you're right. I just have to believe that I'm going to be alright. I have to believe that I'm going to be successful. I have to believe that connections I've made with people- with my friends, are not one sided.

I don't know where I'm going with this... I told you my mind is all cluttered. I'm distracted by the pain in my foot- it's just constantly swollen. I'm mostly distracted by my emotions though. I think what I'm feeling the most right now, and it kind of sums up the last 7 months or so, is that I feel saved and I can't imagine where I would be now if things haven't worked out the way they did this last year.

Well This is Getting Ridiculous and I Flashed the Neighbor...

I'm finding that the whole- writing everyday thing is getting ridiculous. I mean, I suppose if I didn't have a regular job and had a lot of time to myself, it would be an easy goal to accomplish, but I do have a regular job. I'm also spending my entire day out of the house too. I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm just saying it's getting to be too much, and it's not like I'm producing gold within every entry. I mean, the last one I wrote half asleep... what was that one even about?

ANYWAY

I switched rooms in my parent's house. I was sharing a room with my younger brother who is home from college. Now, my other brother is home to visit and it just makes more sense for the boys to share a room. I'm in what's supposed to be the den, the office, what have you- is where I sleep now. I have an air mattress and a lot of crap around me. Granted majority of that crap is mine, all in boxes from moving, but still.

Sorry the picture's so dark... there's one light- on the desk. The ceiling light... well there's the wiring for the ceiling light, but that's all.

Also you can see in the picture that the blinds are closed, which wasn't the case when I started sleeping here. They were pulled up and it wasn't something I noticed getting home from work at 2am. I did notice that it was pulled up AND that people walking down the street can see into the room the next morning, as I was getting dressed. I don't know if the guy walking down the street saw me half naked, but I guess good for him if he did. He was a grown man, if he hadn't seen tits by now, then I just did him a favor.

What Was I Gonna Say?

I didn't really have time to write today since I had to work two full shifts at my day job today. I think that in the middle of my day I came up with a really great thing to talk about here on the show. It was perfect- witty, and a topic that wouldn't go on for ever. I can't remember what that thing was. Serioiusly- what what I going to writese

Dieting, Oh No, Just Counting

Ugh... I did it. I signed up for Weight Watchers online. With my foot bothering me as much as it has lately, and with my health probably in horrible condition, I need to get my diet together. I've done weight watchers before- briefly and it was successful, but then I would get cocky about how well I was doing and then I gained the weight back. Consistency has always been my issued. I know this program works; my friend lost weight with it after having each of her kids, Jennifer Hudson did it- I mean I have proof. I just hate having to stop what I'm doing, log in what I ate- it might not seem like a big deal, but maybe that's just part of my uncovered mental issues. Boy, am I a catch or what?

Courting Wil Wheaton

So I've been writing the second part to a sketch I came up with...

(This is Stalker 101, Ep. 1)

In the next episode I'm currently writting, there is a mention of Wil Wheaton. If dreams could come true, Wil Wheaton would make a cameo appearance at the end of the scene. I'm going to ask him to do it- once I've finished writing the script of course. I don't know if he'll do it, but if he does, that would put so much pressure on me to do well. It would be so hilarious too, but a lot of pressure. Wish me luck in my pursuit of casting Wil Wheaton. I hope I don't come off as too stalkerish.

My Foot

So back in January I busted my foot. I was performing at a show and while the comedian before me was finishing up, I went to the restroom. To get to the stalls you go up a small, winding staircase. To get back to the show room, you walk down those stairs. I, instead, fell down them. It was like the stairs turned into a slide mid-step. After cursing up a storm, I, still on the floor, opened the door and found another comic there. I asked him to tell the host that I couldn't go on stage at that time. The other comics helped me up and I wondered in my foot was broken. After icing it for about 20 minutes, I went on stage, cause I'm a champ.

Anyway, it turns out the top of my foot has soft tissue damage, which I'm told is worse than a break. For a while I was in a horrific looking boot which drew a lot of unwanted attention from strangers. This last 6 weeks or so I've felt like my foot was finally almost healed. I started going to the gym again, and wearing heels (short heels, but heels at that).

Tonight at work, my foot hurt so bad I didn't know how much longer I could walk. I'm actually up in the office icing my foot right now! It's just really annoying because I'm trying to make a healthy life style for myself and lose weight (I added 13 pounds to my unnecessary weight because I couldn't work out for about 5 months). Ugh, I guess I'll have to try harder with the dieting. Boo.

This is my foot the night I fell back in January

This is my foot tonight, swollen!



Hanging In There

So I'm sleeping in my car tonight. I'm so tired of driving 45+ miles each way to and from work, just so I can do it again the next day. Also, gas isn't cheap, and I'm trying to save money. I was suppose to have plans tomorrow, but I guess they fell through, which is why I was going to sleep in my car- I mean, why get home at 2am from work, just to leave by 830am so I can meet people at 10am? I decided that even though the plans fell through, to just stay on this side of the bridge. I have my computer, a change of clothes, a set of workout clothes, a book- I have things to occupy my time until I have to be back at work Sunday afternoon- so it's not going to be completely awful. And I'm not worried about being in my car- I'll be in the employee lot, which has security 24/7, and more importantly bathroom facilities. I could sleep on the couch in the break room, but the morning crew comes in at 5am, and they'll wake me up and then I'd have to explain why I slept there, and that I'm not working that morning. It would just be annoying. Anyway- I'm off to IHOP with my co-worker, and it's the highlight of my day.

Writer's Block

Writer's block isn't very fun. I feel like I get it more than most writers. It sucks because no matter how motivated you are to write something, you just can't figure anything out. Like right now- I'm all set up to write this blog and I couldn't think of anything to write about. I told myself I'd blog everyday, so I don't want to blow it off. It doesn't help that I'm exhausted either. I could very well fall asleep while typing. I hope that I don't- my laptop would probably fall off the bed and that would make me sad. I'm watching Chelsea Lately. I could totally be on the panel for that show. I can talk trash/make jokes about celebrities and news stories. That and those VH1 shows like "I Love the 80s." I would be so great at saying things like, "Hell yeah I remember pogs!" How do I get that job? Seriously- who can I send my promotional package to for that?

How Broadway Changed My Life

When I was five years old I would sing and dance to the soundtrack of Broadway's A Chorus Line. For those of you who are familiar with the musical, you'll know that it's not necessarily a kid-friendly production. A Chorus Line is about a group of dancers auditioning to be in the chorus line of a Broadway show. The songs they sing reflect why they want to be a dancer, and how they got to the auditions. At 5 years old my mom told me that she would take me to see the show when if came to the San Francisco area, and she did. I had waited over 15 years to see it. We got amazing orchestra seats, and when the lights came on and the music started, I began to cry. I had envisioned what this would look like for years. What were the dances going to look like, how did the story move along with the songs. It was overwhelming.

I am by no means a dancer. I wish I was. And I can sing alright- I know my limits. If I could sing better, and if I had an ounce of capability to dance, I would definitely be pursuing a career on Broadway. It's the grandest form of performance out there. You use your voice and your body to convey all the emotions you're trying to get out. Don't get me wrong, I love being a comedian. I love being on stage and letting my personality shine through as I make people laugh, but there is just something about singing that I can't describe. 

The video below is one of the numbers from A Chorus Line. I probably could put a clip of all the songs and explain what it means to me, but I narrowed it down to three.  This first one is "Music and the Mirror" I used to sing and *Poorly* dance to this song around the house. I only did it if no one was in the living room. I was so self conscious, but when I knew no one was watching, I danced as such. This song still means a lot to me now. It's saying, "I know I can do amazing things, I just need you to give me a chance to show you."

This next song, "Dance: Ten; Looks: Three" was one I loved to sing to, and I had no idea what I was singing about. (Some of the chorus is, "Tits and Ass, where the cupboard once was bare, now you knock and someone's there...") I'm surprised my mom didn't censor me, but I didn't know what the words were, so no harm, no foul right? I was 5 years old dancing around singing about getting tits and ass. How adorable. This song is about a girl who, despite her talent, felt she wasn't getting jobs because of her body. So she went to the doctor and took care of that. It's still one of my favorites to sing.

This last song is what I thought was a song about a guy. "What I Did For Love" is sung after the director ask those auditioning, what would they do if they couldn't dance anymore. This song is about the things we'll do for the things we love- in this case- being a dancer. It still speaks volumes for me as a performer, and I completely understand everything about it.

Shitty Friends, and Falling Down in Church

I don't really know what to write about it. I'm at work right now, and my foot is swollen and aches, so my mind is a bit preoccupied. A conversation with a friend last night got me thinking about a reccurring theme throughout my childhood/adolecence: I have friends that just stop being my friends. Has this happened to anyone else?

The first time it happened was in the 5th grade. If you've seen me on stage, you might have heard a bit I do about going to therapy when I was 10 years old because a girl in my class would call me fat and told me that nobody liked me. That girl was my "friend". I went trick-or-treating with her and watched "Grease" at her house! What did I do to her? I was such a goody goody as a kid, I never was mean to anybody. Her and another girl were my friends and I guess one day they woke up and decided to be mean to me. One night at a sleep over, I fell asleep first and I woke up to them putting black nail polish all over my face. They would have the Jenny Craig weightloss hotline call my house asking how they could help me shed those unwanted pounds before bikini season (Which might just be the cuntiest thing I've ever heard in my life). I don't know what, if anything I did to them. Was I just an annoying kid? Possibly. But that didn't warrant their actions.

The next was in middle school. In 8th grade I had two groups of friends I hung out with. I classify them as my Valerie group, and my Monica group. Not that they couldn't and didn't get along, just different crowds is all. So I'm at lunch, getting ready to sit down with my Monica group of friends and one of the girls looks at me and says, "What do you think you're doing here?" I said, "I'm eating lunch with my friends." And my supposed friend replies, "Well you can't sit here." All of a sudden one of my friends doesn't want me to eat lunch with her and everybody else. I had a  "WTF Moment" before that phrase was coined. I stood up for myself, which I never did before and told her that I was eating lunch with my friends and she couldn't stop me from sitting at that table. And she couldn't, and didn't stop me. Instead she got up and left and made everyone else go with her (Cuntiest action ever #2). After that school year I had a sleepover with one of the girls from my Monica group. She was best friends with the girl that refused to lunch with me. I asked why she hated me all of a sudden, if I had done something to make her mad. She said she didn't know, that she one day just decided that she didn't like me. How can you just do that? How can you be friends with me for a couple of years, and then just decide to hate me, and ostracize me? I was 13 years old and couldn't believe how childish people were acting.

The last time this happened to me was when I was 19 years old. I got a great opprotunity for an internship program when I was 18 years old and I went to live and work in Orlando Florida. It was only for 6 months, so I told all my friends to keep in touch as I'd be back before they knew it. I kept correspondaces up with a few people, but, with the expection of my BFF, I was always the last one to write. Eventually the letters, and myspace messages (Does that date me? It was 2005, don't hate) stopped coming. As my return date approached, my friends were so excited to see me. I got a lot of messages on my myspace wall "What day are you coming home?" I was so happy to see my friends, and happy that they were excited to see me too. When I got home I thought my phone would be ringing off the hook (Is that phrase still appropriate, ya know cause no one really uses phones that rest on hooks anymore?). I made a lot of effort to make plans with the friends that missed me so much. I think I hung out with them once, and then they never returned my calls after that. Had Florida changed me? I mean, yeah it did in a way but for the better. I learned to live on my own, and be responsible for myself, and adapt to a new environment- but deep down I was still the same person.

This is why I like guy friends better, and why I have always gotten along with them better than girls. Not one of those stories is about a guy friend. They were all girls. Why do we treat each other this way? I understand not everyone is going to like me- I don't like everyone. But to take the time to develop a friendship and then to just trash is and me, that's just rude. And it's fucked me up. I don't know how- I still need to seek help for that, but I know it's at the root of my issues with socializing.

I feel like this was depressing in some way. Here's an embarrassing story about me to cheer you up.

When I was 9 years old I starting carrying the cross to the alter at the beginning of Sunday Mass. I hated going to church, but carrying the cross was like giving me a part in the show- it was something to do. One day I'm walking down the aisle, and to get to the stand where I put the cross, I have three steps to go up. Well this particular day I decided to skip one of the steps. I don't know why, perhaps I thought it would help make Mass go by faster. Anyway, I skip the step, but Jesus on the cross doesn't and I fall flat on my face- and I take Jesus on the cross with me, as if he hasn't been through enough already. By the way, when I fell is made this loud booming noise that echoed throughout the church. I got up, put Jesus in his spot, and went to my seat. By the way- no one helped the fallen 9 year old up, in church! No one asked if I was okay either- they just ignored it, like the Catholics are known for doing.

Homeless...Kind of...

Sorry I couldn't post this yesterday, ya know in a timely fashion and all. I had a very full day. I had to leave my parents house early so I could go look at an apartment, then I made lunch plans with my friend Liz, and then I had a show to produce. When my days are full and long like that, I back a bag to be prepared for anything the day/night by throw at me. I feel like I'm, for the most part, living out of my car. The drive from my parent's house to work, and back is just too much. Gas is too expensive and I'm too broke to keep doing it. So I've decided that unless I'll have at least a whole day to myself with no plans, I won't be staying there. My plan is to just work a lot, and I can just sleep in the break room at work (there's a couch) or in my car (which is tucked away in the employee lot, so don't worry, it's safe Yo!.... why did I just type "Yo!"? I'm an idiot). Anyway, I figure that if I have a suitcase with me of clothes to last me for a week-10 days, I should be good. I can go home when I don't have to work, or have plans to be in the city, and I can shower and do laundry there, or worst case scenario: I can shower at the gym and do laundry at my friend's places near by work. It may not be the best plan in the world, but it's certainly not the worst. It is only temporary too, just until I find a place.

Speaking of.... anyone have an affordable one bedroom?

My Addiction

I ate a bag of apple slices today. I bought a bag of salad. I went to the gym. So why am I so miserable? I hate that I've let myself gain all this weight that I lost back, and then a little some. It's so frustrating. I injured my foot back in January and have only recently been able to begin working out again, but still, how could I let this happen? I have a serious problem and I don't know how to resolve it. I can't afford a trainer, and I'm so stubborn about what I eat, that if I don't want it, I won't eat it. As I mentioned I bought a bag of salad. It's a Caesar salad; I figured if I covered the lettuce with enough crap, then perhaps I could consume it entirely. I've force fed myself salads before and I can never finish more than a bite, if that. It just feels weird in my mouth (that's what she said) and I can taste that it grew in the dirt. Hopefully tonight will go over better than my previous attempts. I know I need to change my eating habits because I keep getting sick from whatever I eat. I usually eat something with sugar in it. At work I'll grab a burger and fries for lunch. It's really bad. You would think that having gallstones at age 20/21 years old, and subsequently having my gallbladder removed, would be enough of a wake up call to change your lifestyle--- but it wasn't. I remember the doctor said to me, "After the surgery, you'll be able to eat like you normally would." My normal, is not the normal though.

I read a lot of other women's success stories of weightloss. They say things like, "To curve my cravings for sweets, I'd chew a piece of gum." or "I'd just allow myself to have one square of chocolate to satisfy my cravings." Is it just me or is that bullshit? How can chewing on a piece of gum make you not want a bag of candy anymore? How can you just stop at ONE piece of chocolate? What worries me about this is that it really is JUST ME that feels this way. It means that my problems with food, and sugars specifically, is far more severe than I could have thought possible.

How do you stop a sugar addiction? It's not like I have a dealer. I can go anywhere and get a cookie, or cake, or whatever I might be craving. And when I try to back off of the sugar, I get major withdrawal symptoms. It's all I think about, and I won't rest until I give my sweet tooth what it wants. It's embarrassing but about a month ago, I have negative dollars in my checking account, and a nearly maxed out credit card. I had $4 left on that credit card, and I wanted chocolate so badly that I charged my last $4 for candy. That's straight up crackhead level right?!

I really want to try to incorporate a better, more balanced diet in my life. I'm looking up how to make vegetables more kid friendly- God that's sad.

Well, having said all that, I'm really hungry.

Sweating the Small Talk

I'm not really good at small talk with strangers, hell, with people I know too. I don't know what it is, but I hate it. It's the worse with strangers. At my day job, I have to talk with strangers all the time. I just want to get them what they need and out of my life. Is that too harsh? I mean, I don't want to have a conversation about the weather, and I don't care that you have a daughter named Kelly. It's not like it's an uncommon name. If my name was Princess Unicorn, and so was your daughter's then yes, that is a weird coincidence. let's talk about it. I don't know how to respond to that. Does that make me a bad person? Well, not a bad person, but a bitch? I don't mean to be a bitch, but I just don't think I should have to feign interest in a pointless conversation with someone I'll never see again. Perhaps I wasn't taught as a child how to interact with people. I was taught to fear strangers, as they can take you right out of your own backyard. Remember that Polly Class girl? I remember I was about her age when it happened and it freaked my mom out- well it should have freaked any parent out actually. But my mom maybe went overboard with the fear. The thing was, it was really unlikely I would be kidnapped from our backyard. It was a shitty backyard and we lived on a hill. We had a deck and a bunch of random plants growing underneath it like a jungle that no animal would want live in, and that no big corporation would want to tear down for profits.

Oh I've done it again, I've rambled on and astray from my point. I suppose that point was, that I was raised to fear people, rather than to embrace them.

I think that adulthood is about figuring out how exactly childhood/adolescence messed you up, and then trying to correct it. I know that when I was young I felt fat and ugly, and I feared strangers, and I just wanted people to think that I was amazing. Now that I know all of those things made up my crazy mind today, I need to figure out how to undo that frame of mind. I'd like to be that person at a bar that can start a conversation with someone and then meet a cool new friend. I'm just so self-conscious about how I appear to them, and am so worried I'll say something wrong. I've always been so eager to be liked by people that I don't know how to just be myself at first meeting. I get tense and shy. I'm sure that most of my first impressions were awful. So how do I fix this? Perhaps it's time for therapy...again.

Shit Went Down in Boston

Okay, so I’ve slept through the hangover and I’m feeling much better. My trip to Boston with Jason was overall, awesome with bits of insane sprinkled in. We flew out to go to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play. We flew out on a redeye and had all day to hang out in Boston until the game that night. We went to the JFK Museum, and then to the Sam Adams Brewery for a tour and some free beer. I just gave all my beer to Jason. I tried them all, but beer just doesn’t taste good. I don’t understand how everyone likes it.

After a long day of comminuting via public transportation and a quick nap at the hotel, it was finally game time. I got standing room only tickets, but they were at a really good spot, and we ended up only standing for a few innings and then we snagged some deserted seats. It was a really exciting game; the As were up, then the Sox caught up, then the As scored again… you get the idea. The Sox won, and the atmosphere of the stadium was electric. We went out to a nearby bar to have some more good times. Cut to an hour and two long island ice teas later and Jason and I are talking with some local girls and I have a Bostonian accent that I just could not shake. I think I ended up have four long islands. I had three, then Jason bought me a shot, I threw up the shot in the bar, then some more in the bathroom, and then I convinced him to buy me another long island. When we left the bar, we somehow were helping some of the girls we met. We were at a Domino’s pizza and one of the girls was a complete wreck. She was wasted and emotional about something, I don’t know what. I think I talked to a guy on the phone for her. I ordered a pizza because quite frankly we all could have used some food. Jason was outside trying to make sure her friends got home okay. There were a lot of guys out front trying to get these girls into cabs- it was real shady. These guys did not like Jason interfering but Jesus, the world needs men like Jason. Those girls are lucky that he was there. He got them a cab and I sent the girl I was with outside to go home. As I waited for Jason to come back over to me, this guy was trying to tell me that Jason wouldn’t be coming back for me. (As you read this, remember I was still talking with a Boston accent) I started screaming at the guy, “Fuck you, fuck you! You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” He told me that I couldn’t trust Jason and that he was going to get in the cab with the girls. He asked why I was so sure he would come back for me. “Because he’s a good guy, and we flew out cross country together and he’s my fucking best friend.” And the guy said some shit about him and I got this overwhelming shady feeling from him. So I started screaming Jason’s name as loud as I could. The cab was on it’s way but by this point I think he was trying to shake off some of the guys who’s night he disrupted. After screaming for Jason he came and got me and we left. I was in tears. What a fucking asshole that guy was. I can’t believe that there are people like that out there, it’s scary. I was never worried that Jason wouldn’t come back for me; I just didn’t know what this jerk was capable of so that was my cause for panic. I just had an overwhelming bad feeling. It was like a nightmare. As we walked far away from that bar, I mentioned the pizza that I bought, which I had been holding onto for a while by then. Jason, said, “Forget about the pizza!” Took the box out of my hands and threw it. As the box was flying through the air, the pizza flew out of the box like a Frisbee into the night. It was almost beautiful really. I couldn’t believe he did that. I paid for that pizza and I never ate one bite of it. We found a cab and we were finally on our way to the hotel. I don’t remember anything from the cab ride except Jason whispering in my ear, “At the next stop, we’re jumping out of the cab.” I was freaking out, I don’t know how to jump out of a cab! And what if he jumped out and I hesitated and couldn’t follow him. I kept telling him that I couldn’t, that I wasn’t jumping out of the cab. I thought that Jason didn’t want to pay for the ride, but apparently the cab driver was shady. Jason said that he wasn’t listening to his directions and was running red lights. I don’t remember that all. I think I was still upset from that asshole from earlier. We tell the driver to pull over at a gas station so we could get something from the store and we got out. The driver said he wanted his money. Jason was paying him and the cab driver wanted him back in the car to pay the bill. Jason refused to get in the cab. “Ill pay you, but I’m not getting back in the fucking car.” So the driver got paid and he drove off. And there we were, drunk, at a gas station, somewhere in Boston at 3am. OH! I forgot, while in the cab Jason had called 911. I didn’t know why he was doing that at the time. He felt really unsafe in that cab and had 911 on the phone, but he just let phone stay on the line. I really surprised they didn’t call his phone back. Anyway, we’re at this gas station and he was gonna call the cops again and decided that the cops could drive us back. Jason was not trusting of anyone at this point. I didn’t know what the cops would think of us, being as drunk as we were, so I just asked the people working at the gas station to call a cab for us. The cab arrived and this time, we were finally on our way. We got to the room and it was such a relief.

That certainly was not the night I was expecting. And every time I think about it, I just wish that I punched that guy in his face. Seriously, my one regret last night was not beating the shit out of that guy. Jason’s one regret: Throwing the pizza into the night. Oh wait, he remembered it was a Domino’s pizza, maybe it’s not that regrettable.

I Know! I Know!

Okay so I did post the last few days cause I was out of town and the hotel didn't have free wifi (hotels are still charging?) But I did write. Here's what I had written for Thursday AND Friday. I will post again later today when I'm not so drunk/hungover. I can't really tell which it is yet.

THURSDAY'S POST

I think I'm going to start force feeding myself salads. I just almost threw up in my mouth after writing that. See the thing is, I am incredibly unhealthy. I don't eat nutritiously at all. I hate vegetables. Well corn is cool, but everyone seems to think that corn doesn't count because it's a starch. How rude. Anyway... I eat what I feel like eating with is anything with sugar. I have a sugar addiction and I don't throw that phrase around lightly. I definitely get withdrawals when I go without sugar. I can't stand salad for two reasons. 1) The taste. I can taste the dirt it grew in. And the salad dressings are not tasty to me either. 2) I don't like the way it feels in my mouth. This is the main reason why I can't and won't eat salads. The leafiness... the crunching... ew. It just feels wrong in my mouth (That's what she said). At first my dislike for vegetables never bothered me. Sure I'd have to work out a lot harder at the gym to lose weight and keep it off once I get to my goal, but it would be worth it. As I'm aging, I'm realizing that my body can't keep up with my eating habits. I feel sick a lot, and I know it's from what I'm eating. It's hard to eat healthy cause I'm so stubborn and I want what I want. And when it comes to food, I won't stop thinking about it until I get it. When are they going to make a food additive to make salad taste like candy? That would solve everything.


FRIDAY'S POST

I don’t know what to write about it. I’m tired and hungry. The hotel can’t check us in yet because they were full last night and won’t have any open rooms until after people check out. Oh well. Jason and I are here to see the Red Sox game tonight. At least it’s a night game and we’ll have time to sleep before the game. Wow, I am really hungry. Who knew that a Dunkin Donut can’t satisfy your hungry for 3 hours? Yeah, we should go get a breakfast Part 2.  To kill some time, we’re going to the Sam Adam Brewery, and the JFK Library & Museum. I don’t know how much time that will kill, but it’ll take us about 40 minutes to get from the hotel to the brewery. I wish that I liked beer. That would make going to a brewery at 10am more fun. I’d also like to enjoy beer because it’s just cheaper, and is everywhere. I hate when I go to a bar and it’s a limited selection, like wine and beer only. I used to not care for wine, but I have grown a taste for red wine. I just can’t do it with beer. Beer is just bitter and unpleasant. I remember kids in high school saying, “Just keep drinking it, you’ll get used to it.” I don’t want to get used to bitter and unpleasant. I’ve tried different types of beer, and I just never found one that I could drink. The closest I can get to beer, I suppose, is the hard ciders. I can drink those, but it wouldn’t be my first choice.  The first time I had a hard cider was during my acting class my first (only) year of college. Our teacher would call for a 5 minute break, which ALWAYS meant 20-30 minutes. We would all be back in class after 5 minutes and wait for him to return. One day some of my peers decided to take advantage of the long 5 minutes and decided to go to the Pub on campus. I had just turned 18 and I was in an Acting II class. I don’t how in my first semester I was able to bypass Acting I, but I did. Most of the other students there were at least 21. They let me tag along and one of the guys got me a hard cider. We drank and went back to class. I felt a little tipsy, and totally cool. We got back to class and hadn’t missed a thing.  Then we watched a kid do a monologue from Hamlet. The performance was strange. Hamlet is my favorite Shakespeare play, so maybe I was a bit bias but the guy did an awful job. The teacher called upon me to critique him and I felt that my filter to censor negative comments was gone. I chose my words very carefully as my classmates knew what was going through my buzzed mind. The teacher didn't notice though. Oh it was fun hanging out with the big kids. Oh college.

Sliding Doors

So there's this movie with Gwyneth Paltrow called "Sliding Doors" and in it shows the two lives she could have had based on one decision she made. Something like that, I never really saw it. It's probably bad to start off a blog post by explaining a movie you only know existed because you're mom rented it years ago and you saw bits a pieces of it while getting food from the kitchen. ANYWAY. It's an interesting subject. How different would our lives be if instead of going through door A, we went through door B?

Today is my friend Megan's 5th wedding anniversary. She has been with her husband for a total of 9 years and they have two beautiful and amazing kids. Megan and I are very similar. You know when you have a friend that just "gets" you. That's Megan. We are complete dorks together, and make each other laugh and are there for one another for the bad times. I believe that Megan and I could very well be the same person living out different lives. She went through door A: The family life. While I went through door B: The career life.

I can't speak for Megan, but sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if it worked out the way my 5 year old self wanted it to. When I was 5 I dreamed of being an actress- well specifically the youngest actress to win an Oscar, but time crept up on me and I did not make a movie. If only Tatum O'Neal didn't set the bar so high! Anyway, I wanted to be an actress and to get married by the time I was 25. My parents married when they were 23, so I thought those extra two years would give me plenty of time to get my career going. By the time I got to middle school I was just waiting to meet my Cory Matthews to my Topanga Lawrence. Of course the 6th grade is where I would meet my soul mate, that's what middle school is for right? Boy Meets World, you got my hopes up. The whole relationship thing has never worked out for me. It's sad, I just now expect for guys to not be interested in me. Perhaps in my youth I was too forward, too aggressive about boys. I knew what I wanted and though I wasn't really sure how to go after for I wanted, I just went, full speed ahead. I was a gutsy kid. I asked a boy out to the movies when I was 11 years old. He said no, but he was nice about it, which is probably not how all 11 year old boys would have responded. From age 11 until now, at 24 I've dealt with guys rejecting me, or not being available, or having a girlfriend already. My plan for a family and a career by 25 was ruined.

By the time I was 16, I knew what I wanted to do career wise. I knew that comedy was in my future in one way or another. Since I didn't have any boys doting on me, I became driven. When I was 16, the dream was (and hell, still is) Saturday Night Live. I was known in my drama class for writing original character pieces. I'd fall down the stairs and sing musical parodies. I'd have characters that were pregnant teenagers, and drunk girls at a party. I was a hit in drama class, all three years of it. That's where I discovered I was funny. Unless they were in my drama class, most people I went to school with probably wouldn't describe me as funny. Anyway, I knew this is what I wanted. I never understood how people had trouble figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives. It was always so clear to me. Just do what you love right? Isn't it that simple? I was writing monologues all the time in class. I was always thinking about what I could do next in class.

After high school was hard. I didn't have drama class anymore. I had no outlet to perform. I read somewhere that if you want to get into comedy, any part of comedy, you should do stand up- at least for a bit. I was 18 and I thought stand up would be impossible. I had been writing comedy from the point of view of a character I had made up. How the hell was I suppose to write jokes from MY perspective? I inquired about an open mic in my neighborhood, but it was at a bar and I was too young to be let into the bar. Over the next 2 years I was depressed. I didn't want to do anything, and that's exactly what I was doing with my life. Not performing was killing me. I finally did something about and at 20 years old I started doing stand up, and have been ever since.

I've been doing stand up about as long as Megan has been a mother. It's kind of crazy that I can watch my comedy career grow at the same pace as Piper. As I watch Piper grow into an amazing kid with such a spunky personality, I can see that my comedy has taken on a personality of its own as well.

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I got to have the husband and kids by this time in my life. Would it be the life that Megan has? Would I be able to balance both career and family? I've always been a person that wants it all. Have you ever done those, Make your own Sundaes? They have all the toppings out; gummi bears, chocolate chips, caramel sauce, hot fudge, whipped cream, oreo, coconut shavings... I have to stop, this is making me hungry. But you get the point. I want it all on my sundae. I wonder if I can handle it all, career and a family. I want to. I'd be an awesome wife. I bake and I could cook and just be amazing. I'd be a kick ass mom too. And being pregnant? I can just picture myself getting on a stage at 8 months pregnant, and saying, "Do these pants make me look fat?" God, I could write a lot of good pregger jokes. And when I get pregnant, whenever that may be, I'm gonna eat that damn sundae with all of those toppings. (Who am I kidding, I'm going to the store now to get the fixings)