Tuesday Boozeday. I...actually haven't had a drink all day.

Sometimes, I open the browser to start blogging, and then I get distracted by the Internet. I have planned 3 separate blogs out today. None of them will come to pass, at least not today.

Sigh.

HERE ARE SOME THINGS:

1. America Ferrera got married! And looked GORGEOUS:


Seriously. AND, in the world of things that warm my heart and moisten my eyes: Blake Lively and Amber Tamblyn, aka Bee and Tibby in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, (in which America played Carmen), were there! They're really friends! Apparently Rory Gilmore (aka Alexis Bledel, aka Lena in TSofTP) had better things to do, what with her phenominally successful career and all...oh wait.

2. I stumbled across a website of Harry Potter related things, and have found myself in a glass case of emotion about the final film. I just......ugggghhhhh. The 2nd half of the Deathly Hallows is like having JK Rowling repeatedly punching me in the face with sorrow while I can't stop audibly weeping. I mean, come on. Come ON. And this will be the movie, that when they mess things up, make them different from the books, as I KNOW they will, I will freak out like a crazy person in the middle of the theater, and throw my body through the screen like a human torpedo. No, just kidding. Kind of. Although I'm crossing my fingers, because they did a very good job in the last one, of not doing stupid made up things, or destroying important scenes by making them different from the books in important ways. Except for that one scene that was actually the most important in the movie that they did not do to my liking. Sigh. But ohhh my god. Fred! The resurrection stone! Ron! Hermione! Everyone! Everything! Arrggghhh!

In the immortal words of Colleen Weiler, performing Destiny's Child's "Emotions" in her senior year audition for Measure 13, the a cappella group at St. John Fisher College, from which she was cut by freshman director Megan Newell, possibly in part because she spilled chili on Megan at the first Fisher Players meeting of the year, "It's just emotions taking me over, caught up in sorrow, lost in the soul".

3. So in the summer of 2006, there were few people I hated more in the world than Katharine McPhee. She was the second place finisher on American Idol, season 5, finishing ahead of both Chris Daughtry and Elliot Yamin, which was straight up blasphemy, considering how soul-sucking-ly annoying and over-hyped she was. WELL I just heard about a new show called Smash, on NBC next...winter? I think? Anyway, it stars Katharine McPhee, which is something I'll have to deal with, BUT it's a musical show, about makin' it in the theatre biz! And more importantly, it costars DEBRA MESSING and CHRISTIAN BORLE and MEGAN HILTY and ANGELICA HUSTON and THAT BRITISH GUY THAT'S IN STUFF! It might be great! It might also go the way of Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip (Matthew Perry and Bradley Whitford?! What a winning combination! This show is a guaranteed success! No.) or Mr. Sunshine (Matthew Perry and Allison Janney?! What a winning combination! This show is a guaranteed success! No.) (Matthew Perry, please just do Friends 2: Electric Boogaloo).

In closing, I hope you have Emotions stuck in your head for the rest of your life like I now do. You're welcome.

Lazy...err...Saturday

Do you ever have one of those mornings where you wake up, glance quickly at the clock to see what time it is, and then do a double take because it is either SO much earlier, or SO much later than you thought it was?

Well, today was one of those days, for me.

I slept until 1:15 pm. I did a double take, because I was SURE there must have been another 1 before that 1. Nope. I slept straight through the morning, and then some. I haven't slept that late in AGES. And I slept like a rock! I didn't even go to bed that late. Oh well, that's what Saturdays are for, right?

Plus, I stayed in my jam jams all day. I had planned on going into Rome with my mom, but she was already long gone by the time I got up, and my dad was being boring, so I essentially had the house to myself. I decided my time would best be spent watching 5 episodes of Snapped, on the Oxygen network, in a row.

Has anyone ever seen Snapped? It's pretty great, pretty addictive. It's about lady criminals. Regular la-de-da ladies who just snapped one day and killed their husband/husband's mistress/neighbors/all of the above. I love crime dramas, I can watch and HAVE watched them all day. I worry sometimes that my love for crime dramas will result in me murdering someone someday. Please don't use this as evidence one day if I do find myself in some horribly unfortunate scenario where I am being framed for murder. I am not a murderer, I swear. What I DO hope, is that all my crime shows will enable me to outsmart any murderer/robber/rapist/attacker.

I also discovered a crazy delicious new food blog, Annie's Eats, and have spent several hours perusing everything it has to offer. I want to make and eat basically every single recipe on the website. Every single thing.

Which brings me to another train of thought. Looking at her website, and all the photos of her meal prep...I want to be able to do that! I want to have my own kitchen, and kitchen tools, and people to cook dinner for, and birthday treats to make. I've really been trying to hone my cooking and baking skills since I've been home, and while cooking for the 'rents is great, I'd love to have my OWN kitchen to cook in. Eligible men, wherefore art thou?

...not in Camden, NY.

Final thought: I went to the Grog (ick.) to see Small Town Glory (double ick.) with BethAmuso and Scotty too hotty (huzzah!). It was sooooo good to see them, it had been way WAY too long. Since Christmas. Which is extra foolish, considering Scotty is now living in my neck of the woods. And even BETTER, we got to toast gay marriage finally being legal in NY! We've already started planning Scotty's wedding, whether he likes it or not :)

Final thought for real: I am watching Ice Loves Coco. What a fantastic program.

The Sax Men

Clarence Clemons died on Saturday. I am...super bummed about it. For those of you uncultured swine who live under a rock, Clarence Clemons, aka The Big Man, was the saxophonist (or as Nigel Barker said Britishly/awesomely on SYTYCD last week "Sax-OFF-on-ist") in Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band. All those awesome Bruce songs? Would be nothing without Clarence Clemons. Well, almost nothing. Saxophones play such a HUGE role in making rock n roll the very best it can be, and I think it's so frustrating when people don't realize that.

When I was in 4th grade, we got to pick what instrument we wanted to take lessons in. I didn't really know all that much about the wide world of musical instruments. My first instinct was that I wanted to play drums, because I imagine my alter-ego is Animal from the Muppets. But I had recently played around on my cousin's drumset, and found that it was actually pretty boring. Plus, my mom immediately put the kibosh on any chance of my playing such a noisy instrument. But what else was equally cool? Then it hit me: the saxophone. How cool are sax players?

Two sax players stood out to me at that age. Well, Kenny G, but he was a joke. More importantly, I loved Bruce and the E Street Band from many a summer drive with my dad. I knew of the Big Man, and his epic talents. Also, my brother and sister were huge Dave Matthews Band fans, and I pretty much had heard all of their music through bedroom walls. Dave had LeRoi Moore on sax, who was JUST AS EPIC as Clarence. Part of the reason I always loved DMB is that they're not just the ol' Guitar, Bass, Drums gang, they have a sax man, AND a violinist (Boyd Tinsley is ALSO the bomb diggity). It just adds so much more depth to their music. With these two rockin dudes on sax turning the music world on its head, if I learned the sax, MAYBE I TOO COULD BE A BIG AWESOME BLACK MAN!

Sadly, LeRoi died in 2008 from complications from an ATV accident. And his death got...almost no publicity. I was shocked. I could not believe that this amazing musician from a popular band had died suddenly, and it was getting no press. He wasn't even included in the Grammy's In Memorium montage, which INFURIATED me, because they include everyone from producers to songwriters, and yet LeRoi wasn't in there anywhere?

When I heard last week that Clarence Clemons had had a stroke, I was worried, but I was hoping hoping hoping he would pull through. Sadly, he did not, but I am so pleased to see that his death is getting the attention it's deserves. On Saturday, both Facebook and Twitter were blowing up with tributes and messages of mourning and sadness. There's an article in People Magazine already, and I'm sure Rolling Stone will have something to say. The outpouring of support made me proud that even though my generation oftentimes seems to have wretched taste in music, and no appreciation for the classics, this man, who had contributed so much to the music world, was getting the recognition he deserved. Whoever's in charge of this year's Grammy's In Memorium montage: take note.

I leave you with this...some of the very best representations of both Clarence Clemons and LeRoi Moore at their finest.

You know you have a good saxophonist when he gets a three minute solo in the middle of the song. Skip to 4:20 if you don't want to watch the whole thing:



One of my very favorite DMB songs ever, with LeRoi's sax driving the whole thing:

Woot!

“Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world.”

-Voltaire

Summer 2011

Turn to Stone

Ingrid Michaelson - Turn to Stone

Let's take a better look
Beyond a story book
And learn our souls are all we own
Before we turn to stone

Let's go to sleep with clearer heads
And hearts to big to fit our beds
And maybe we won't feel so alone
Before we turn to stone

CHORUS:
And if you wait for someone else's hand
And you will surely fall down
And if you wait for someone else's hand
You'll fall
You'll fall

I know that I am nothing new
There's so much more than me and you
But brother how we must atone
Before we turn to stone

Brother how we must atone
Before we turn to stone
Before we turn to stone

I love:

-the dance
-the song
-Melanie and Marko

It's reasons like this that I'm so glad So You Think You Can Dance is back again.

I think we can all agree that "Under" is just better.

Click to big-ify.

Team Coco Forever!

I just watched Conan O'Brien's commencement address from Dartmouth this weekend. It was amazing. Aside from being hilarious, as one might expect, the 2nd, and more genuine half, could not have rung more true to my life now.

He is so smart, and so hilarious, and such a genuinely awesome person. The way he's handled these last few years have just emphasized what a true professional he is, as silly as he may be.

I include for you a portion of his speech:

Eleven years ago I gave an address to a graduating class at Harvard. I have not spoken at a graduation since because I thought I had nothing left to say. But then 2010 came. And now I’m here, three thousand miles from my home, because I learned a hard but profound lesson last year and I’d like to share it with you. In 2000, I told graduates “Don’t be afraid to fail.” Well now I’m here to tell you that, though you should not fear failure, you should do your very best to avoid it. Nietzsche famously said “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” But what he failed to stress is that IT ALMOST KILLS YOU. Disappointment stings and, for driven, successful people like yourselves it is disorienting. What Nietzsche should have said is “Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you watch a lot of Cartoon Network and drink mid-price Chardonnay at 11 in the morning. “

By definition, Commencement speakers at an Ivy League college are considered successful. But a little over a year ago, I experienced a profound and very public disappointment. I did not get what I wanted, and I left a system that had nurtured and help define me for the better part of seventeen years. I went from being in the center of the grid to not only off the grid, but underneath the coffee table that the grid sits on, lost in the shag carpeting that is underneath the coffee table supporting the grid. It was the making of a career disaster, and a terrible analogy.

But then something spectacular happened. Fogbound, with no compass, and adrift, I started trying things. I grew a strange, cinnamon beard. I dove into the world of social media and started tweeting my comedy. I threw together a national tour. I played the guitar, did stand-up, wore a skin-tight blue leather suit, recorded an album, made a documentary, and frightened my friends and family. Ultimately, I abandoned all preconceived perceptions of my career path and stature and took a job on basic cable with a network most famous for showing re-runs, along with sitcoms created by a tall, black man who dresses like an old, black woman. I did a lot of silly, unconventional, spontaneous and seemingly irrational things and guess what ---- with the exception of the blue leather suit, it was the most satisfying and fascinating year of my professional life. To this day I still don’t understand exactly what happened, but I have never had more fun, been more challenged, and this is important ---- had more conviction about what I was doing.

How could this be true? It’s simple: there are few things more liberating in this life than having your worst fear realized. I went to college with many people who prided themselves on knowing exactly who they were and exactly where they were going. At Harvard, five different guys told me that they would one day be President of the Unites States. Four of them were later killed in motel shoot-outs. The other one briefly hosted “Blues Clues,” before dying senselessly in yet another motel shoot-out. Your path at 22 will not necessarily be your path at 32 or 42. One’s dream is constantly evolving, rising and falling, changing course. This happens in every job, but because I have worked in comedy for twenty five years, I can speak best about my own profession.

Way back in the 1940’s there was a very funny man named Jack Benny. He was a giant star and easily one of the greatest comedians of his generation. And a much younger man named Johnny Carson wanted very much to be Jack Benny. In some ways he was, but in many ways he wasn’t. He emulated Jack Benny, but his own quirks and mannerisms, along with a changing medium, pulled him in a different direction. And yet his failure to completely become his hero made him the funniest person of his generation. David Letterman wanted to be Johnny Carson, and was not, and as a result my generation of comedians wanted to be David Letterman. And none of us are --- my peers and I have all missed that mark in a thousand different ways. But the point is this: It is our failure to become our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique. It’s not easy, but if you accept your misfortune and handle it right, your perceived failure can be a catalyst for profound re-invention.

So, at the age of 47, after 25 years of obsessively pursuing my dream, that dream changed. For decades, in show business, the ultimate goal of every comedian was to host The Tonight Show. It was the Holy Grail, and like many people I thought that achieving that goal would define me as successful. But that is not true. No specific job or career goal defines me and it should not define you. In 2000, I told graduates to not be afraid to fail, and I still believe that. But today I tell you that whether you fear it or not, disappointment will come. The beauty is that through disappointment you can gain clarity, and with clarity comes conviction and true originality.

Many of you here today are getting your diploma at this Ivy League school because you have committed yourself to a dream and worked hard to achieve it. And there is no greater cliché in a commencement address than “follow your dream.” Well I am here to tell you that whatever you think your dream is now, it will probably change. And that’s okay. Four years ago, many of you had a specific vision of what your college experience was going to be and who you were going to become. And I bet, today, most of you would admit that your time here was very different from what you imagined. Your roommates changed, your major changed, for some of you your sexual orientation changed. I bet some of you have changed your sexual orientation since I began this speech. I know I have. But through the good and especially the bad, the person you are now is someone you could never have conjured in the fall of 2007.

I have told you many things today, most of it foolish but some of it true. I’d like to end my address by breaking a taboo and quoting myself from 17 months ago. At the end of my final program with NBC, just before signing off, I said “Work hard, be kind, and amazing things will happen. “ Today, receiving this honor and speaking to the Dartmouth Class of 2011 from behind a tree-trunk, I have never believed that more.

I pray at the altar of Conan O'Brien. Preach to me, you ginger rock star. I hope I, too, can one day soon make as spectacular a comeback as you have.

Watch the speech, for God's sake:

New Idea

Whenever I start to delve into a panic attack, and am tempted to vomit out an angst blog, I am going to instead post something that makes me happy.


Here's me and my friends by a pretty waterfall.

This picture does not make me completely happy, as it does exhibit the vast difference between what one sees in the mirror and what one actually looks like in real life, BUT the important thing is I had a great weekend with people I love.

And did Kate, Jenna, and I dress similarly in order to be Jeff's Pips for the day? You decide.

Friends are the best

...for bringing you out of a slump.

me: see, this is why it's good to plan ahead: i've been working on your eulogy since we were 13!

Leah: yeah yeah yeah

you're the writer

me: i'm the morbid weirdo

Leah: I am just going to go up there and play a clip from bagger vance and inappropriately laugh/cry while Erin's mother holds me

me: oh.

my.

hog.

hahahahaha

Leah: hog?

me: *god

Leah: hahahahahaha

me: i am laughing so hard

Leah: I just snorted

me: that was almost as good as haitians

Leah: hahahaha

me: ANYWAY, your bagger vance reference just blew my mind

Leah: I am so glad it did

I felt that glimmer of cleverness

me: i'm proud of you

Leah: but then promptly forgot the name of the movie

and had to google 'will smith golf movie'

me: hahahahaha

thank god for google

Leah: tru that.

This makes sense to no one else. It doesn't matter. Nothing we ever say or do has EVER made any sense.

June...and then I eventually lose my fucking mind

I had at one time planned a post about how much I love June. And I do love it. It's lovely, and springy, and it's my birthday month, and it's always full of busy-ness and fun exciting events. I even like the word "June". Or, name, if you will. In fact, I like it as a name name. Although I could never name a child June because it would be too June Cleaver-y. Maybe as a middle name. I love being a Gemini. I'm always proud to give my birthday, because I think it's a cool birthday. But probably everyone feels that way about their own birthday.

This is the first time ever in my life that I'm really having a hard time accepting that my birthday is here, that I'll be another year old. Normally I love birthdays, and not just for the parties and presents, but I think everyone deserves a day all to themselves, to be showered with attention and love.

But this year I will be turning 25. 25 is unquestionably an adult age. As I told my mother the other day, to her absolute horror, I judge the old-ness of age by how tragic it would be to read about the untimely death of a "__-year-old" in the newspaper. A 16 year old? Aww, that's sad, just a kid. A 22 year old? She had her whole life ahead of her! A 25-year old? Sorry, it's just not as sad. A 25-year-old is an adult. Has lived life, experienced things, been on road trips, seen some amazing concerts, had some good laughs, fallen in and out of love several times, maybe even gotten married and had kids. Not as much of a loss. Maybe it's just me, but when I read about a 25-and-up year old person dying, and they're not in a relationship, and have no kids, I just don't think it's as sad. Sure, they were somebody's son/daughter/brother/sister/etc, but at least they're not leaving anyone alone in the world. Whatever, I'm morbid, I plan people's eulogies, so maybe I'm the only one who's ever thought this. But you can't say there's no truth to it!

I never EVER would have pictured myself to be where I am now at the age of 25. My mother was married and already had one kid by the time she was 25. and while I certainly realize now that that is an unrealistic standard this day in age, and I am nowhere near ready or even wanting to be married at this point. However. I would have at the very least expected myself to be independent, self-sufficient, interesting, dating, hanging out with friends, working a grown-up job that I found mildly interesting. I am none of these things. The only thing I have accomplished since completing a college education that I will spend decades repaying thousands of dollars for, is getting my driver's license. A feat that most people accomplished at age sixteen.

I avoid small-talk with my coworkers, because they all have husbands wives girlfriends boyfriends kids nieces nephews cars social lives, and what am I going to say? "I spent the weekend planting flowers with my mom. That's how I spent last weekend too. I did go out to dinner with my parents, and we stopped on the way home to buy mulch, for more planting." What are my big birthday plans? I'm sure people will ask me this week. Going out to dinner. At Red Lobster. With my parents and my sister. I did the same thing for my tenth birthday. The only difference between then and now is that I have a worthless college degree, and a driver's license. And I will be drinking a giant Lobsterita.

I've given up for the most part on phone calls, emails, visits, etc, for much the same reason. I literally have nothing to contribute. I can talk about past memories, I can add my two cents on your current life/job/relationship anecdote, but I have nothing to add of my own. And maybe that sounds selfish, to cut off other people for my own reasons, but do you have any idea how much it sucks to be in my situation? It's demeaning. As bad as I may feel about my situation on a daily basis, it looks that much worse when compared to everyone else's. And I'm starting to become that person that's bitter about other people's happiness, and I WILL NOT LET MYSELF be that person. It's not even that I'm not happy for them, I am, but their happiness makes my sadness even sadder, and it makes it harder from me to make it out of the gloom to be happy for them. Selfish, again. Whatever.

I do not know how to say it in a way that people will understand: since I've moved back to Camden, I. Do. Nothing. I do not have friends here. Those of you who grew up here know there is nothing to do. I go to work, I come home, eat dinner with my parents, watch tv with my parents, go to bed, repeat.

I have a license, and as much as everyone was all over my ASS to get it, and how it would change my life for the better....guess what? As I always said, and as has proven to be true, if you don't have a car, you may as well not have a license, because it doesn't make a difference. You know what I use my driver's license for? Driving to the grocery store to buy italian bread and salad dressing for dinner. Sometimes I drive myself to work, which is basically just around the corner.

The reason I am having another bout of misery, that is just more of the same bitching, is I had yet another conversation with my mother about my life plan. So many innocent conversations trickle down to this: I am stuck in Camden. Indefinitely. I have no way out. I will never be able to get a better job than I have had, because a. the job market is garbage, b. a communications degree is worthless c. I have no experience in anything applicable to anything I'd ever want to do. d. I live in East Jesus Nowhere. e. I do not have a car to travel to an interview, or to drive to or from a job if I ever got it. Without "A Better Job", I cannot afford to leave Camden, because I would be back to not being able to afford rent or living expenses. And I would have no one to live with.

The worst part of the whole situation? Knowing I got myself into this mess. I made a bad decision. A decision I felt confident in at the time, tried to rationalize to everyone else, but ended up being the worst decision. I don't know how I ever could have stayed in Rochester, because I found myself all of a sudden with nowhere to live, no options, and little to no time to work things out. I could have stayed at my miserable job that I probably soon would have been fired from, because my boss was a nutjob. I wouldn't have gotten my driver's license. But I would have been HAPPY. I would have been with my friends. Going to trivia nights, staying in and being silly, eating brunch at Jay's Diner, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, playing Bananagrams. I love that life. I loved it at the time, and fully appreciated every moment. But when I found myself between a rock and a shitty place, i made the naive decision that I might actually be able to make a better life for myself, to be a real career woman. I'll never make that mistake again. Nothing is more important than being happy, being with people that love you. Even if you have no money. And you're miserable from 9-5. It beats being miserable 24/7.

And fuck all of you, really. It's so gratifying to have like 15 people tell me, "Oh, I read your blog all the time, I love it!", and yet week after week after week there's no fucking comments. Especially since you were all on my to start a blog in the first place. This is not a plea for pity comments now, but really, I don't have any fucking interaction with anyone under the age of 55 for a majority of my life now, I could use a fucking comment or two now and again. Yeah, I know, all I do is bitch about how much my fucking life sucks, and I'm sorry you're all so wonderfully busy with your blissful lives that you just can't pencil in a moment to leave me a hihowareya, but when I post a cute video of a fucking adorable kid and an otter racing, it's not going to kill you to comment on how adorable it is. Jesus.

I really want to say fuck a few more times, but I'm not allowed to say fuck in this house. Because I'm (basically) 25. And live with my parents. And have no friends. So I don't get to swear freely anymore.

Let that sink in for a moment.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, and then swallow the entire pipe and get hepatitis or something from it. Because I'm miserable and I want you all to have hepatitis and be miserable with me. Not that I have hepatitis. I just wish all of you did.

I've clearly lost my mind. Story of my life.

Wise words from Mindy Kaling

Best Friends Rights and Responsibilities

Below, I've outlined what I believe are the rights and privileges of any best friend.

I CAN BORROW ALL YOUR CLOTHES
Anything in your closet, no matter how fancy, is co-owned by me, your best friend. I can borrow it for as long as I want. If I get something on it or lose it, I should make all good faith attempts to get it cleaned or buy you a new one, but I don't need to do that, and you still have to love me. If I ruin something of yours and don't replace it, you're allowed to talk shit about me to our other friends for a calendar year. That's it. Then you have to get over it. One stipulation to borrowing your clothes is that you have to have worn the item at least once before you borrow it. I'm not a monster.

I WILL TRY TO LIKE YOUR BOYFRIEND FIVE TIMES
This is a fair number of times to hang out with your boyfriend and withhold judgment.

IF YOU'RE DEPRESSED, I WILL BE THERE FOR YOU
As everyone knows, depressed people are some of the most boring people in the world. I know this because when I was depressed, people fled. Except my best friends. I will be there for you during your horrible breakup, and you can tell me a hundred times the same sad stories about how you thought he was going to be the one. I will be there for you to tell your long revenge fantasies to, and also to Facebook stalk whoever you want. I know I will hate it and find you really tedious, but I promise I won't abandon you.

I WILL HATE AND RE-LIKE PEOPLE FOR YOU
But don't get mad if I can't keep track. Robby? Don't we hate him? No, we love him. Okay, okay, sorry.

IT IS OKAY TO TAKE ME FOR GRANTED
I know when you fall in love with someone you will completely forget about me. That hurts my feelings, but it is okay. Please try to remember to text me, if you can, if you know I have something going on in my life, like a work promotion or something.

NO TWO PEOPLE ARE BETTER THAN US
We fucking rock, no one can beat us.



These were excerpts from Mindy Kaling's book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns), which comes out on November 1st. Everyone should get it, because she's adorable, and hilarious. Mindy, as you may or may not know, is a writer and actress on The Office, which I don't really watch, but whenever I do she's hilarious, and I follow her on twitter, and she's just great. So, anyway, buy the book.

ALL OF THESE RULES APPLY TO ALL OF YOU! I think that's totally fair.

Quoting Sylvia Plath does not mean I'm suicidal

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.”

-Sylvia Plath