D-Day

That is an iron mug. It says "Iron Inmate" on it. Last year I was the Iron Inmate. I was the greatest employee! Yay! Evan won it this year. But lies, I tell you. Lies! He can't even show up for meetings! (Oh shut up, I love him.)

Anyway, you know what's in that mug? Pinot Grigio. Do you know how much Pinot Grigio was in that mug the night this picture was taken? Somewhere around a bottle and a half. That was consumed in about an hour and a half. That was my lowest point. I'm going to get that date tattoo'd on my body as a reminder to never let myself get to that point again. Drinking... at work... openly, obnoxiously drunk...

In those cases, eventually the "happy drunk" fades away and you end up alone in a dark theater balling your eyes out because all your friends had left you, and your "best friend" wasn't in your life anymore at all. Then you wake up the next day, not remembering how you got home. Waking up to a rose on your floor, not remembering where it came from. So you slowly put the pieces back together and become filled with nausea and regret. And you're just an empty mess.

That was almost a year ago. I'm much happier. I'm a happy mess! I'm a hot mess! I'm a full mess!

But I'm still walking into February on my tip toes. . .

Here's to a happier, less sloppy February. Iron Inmate or not.

You hesitated and called me a boy.

"NO I got you a cupcake, what don't you understand about this??"

I probably love Alison Royer more than life itself.

Go to Improv Asylum. Go on a Cupcake Date.

An installment of Chat with Betsy.

I'm doing an assignment for my Event Planning class, and I have to create an opening night event for a new Space exhibit on international space programs from the 50's to now. So I emailed my sister and asked her,

"If you were going to have a special celebratory party for the opening of a space program exhibit at the museum of science.... who would you put on the guest list? Who would you invite to that sort of thing??"

Her reply:

Is this a real thing you have to do? Or is it like a party game like who in history would you have dinner with?

If its the former than you should try to get a list of people who have been invited to previous similar events. You would obviously invite anyone on the board. Anyone who is a major contributor to the museum. Local rich people, I guess. I really don't know?

If its the latter, Winston Churchill, Hitler, Stalin (I am just curious what they would all say to each other), Heath Ledger (I know I know everyone is going to be inviting him to their imaginary parties now but there is a reason for that, you know?), Galileo (he will be so happy to have been proven right), Leonard DaVinci ("those flying machines are nothing like my drawings, can't you follow simple instructions", oh Leo, such a egomaniac) and Ace of Base.

I was going to list my group of people... but I can't top that. You've outwitted me for the last time, Barrett.


p.s. The picture above is called "The Dinner Party" by Judy Chicago, and all the place settings are depictions of the vaginas of historical and mythical woman. According to Wikipedia, "The Dinner Party elevates female achievement in Western history to a heroic scale traditionally reserved for men." I thought it fit.

Stop judging me!

I went to Border's today and I bought a book. It's called "Seeing Me Naked".

I bought this book because I read a blog called The 5-Spot and it's written by a bunch of chick lit authors. There's this one writer who does recaps of Project Runway every week, and I love them. I don't get to catch the show on Wednesdays usually cause I'm either out, performing, or working - so I read blogs the next day. I read Nick Verreos' too (from Season 2) and I like hers almost as much. So I decided to buy her book.

I immediately thought, "I should buy this online." But I had a coupon, and I was getting my hair done and wanted something to read, so whatever. Sometimes I like cheesy and stupid. In fact I read a book called "Frenemies" over the summer that Evan still makes fun of.

So I went up to the register and I waited in line. There was a woman and a man ringing. I hoped I got the woman, because I felt like she would get it. She likes romantic comedies and reading cheesy books every now and then (I don't know her, I could just see it in her eyes.) But the guy, well, he was your typical bookstore worker. And I'm not entirely sure what's "typical" for a bookstore employee - but for some reason he embodied it. (No offense, Chringy.) So, of course, I got the guy. So I go to purchase the book, and I feel awkward. I could sense his judgment, and due to the title, I could feel him unbuttoning my sweater with his eyes. Well, maybe more judgment and less unbuttoning. I tried to make awkward conversation... but he was boring. He said things like, "Do you have your Border's Rewards card?" and then he told me the price, in a judgmental way. I told him to have a nice day anyway. Even though he was a judgmental jerk!

I want to know what Nick Wilson would think of this book. I see him laughing at me. And then making some obscure reference I know nothing about. But buddy, I got one word for you... bas relief. That was two words.

Oh, and I also got bangs today. I'm scared of them because they're so stylish and new. But I've got positive reviews, Ebert and Roeper think they're going to be a hit. Chringy said they looked "vamp-y" which I took as "Vampire" but Jeremy told me it meant "Seductress" which is better than saying I look like a vampire, I guess.

On a final note, jalapeño peppers are spicy!

My neck, my back...

That picture was my response to Evan's text, "How you doin' kiddo?"

I sprained my neck. I woke up yesterday morning, stretched, and then something snapped inside of my neck that caused me to fall over in pain. Nothing a neck brace, pain medication, and a heating pad can't fix.

I had to work last night... though I'm sure Julia could have managed without me. But I wanted to see people. Be around people, and see Evan and Keith (and Stephen and co.) graduate the training center. It brought back wonderful nostalgia about my grad show... the excitement, the smiling faces, and the feeling of nausea. Ah, grad shows. Oh, right, and the hardcore partying that followed. Good times.

As usual, we hung out at Goody Glover's post shift. I had some drinks, learned that "finger blastin" is the new cool word for "finger bangin", and then borrowed a sharpie from the bartender and had people sign my neck brace.

Here is Jules, Evan, and Mike modeling it.


Here's some of the lovely words:

Mike: Green lantern symbol.
Jules: The word "C U N T" within the Green Lantern symbol - making it look like a weird religious symbol.
Matt: You're great!
Boz: Sorry I punched you so hard.
Evan: Picture of a man.
Nick W: Congrats!

Oh, and p.s. Don't take medication, and then drink a few. Not a good combo.

Rothko vs. The World (Jules)

This is a painting (Black on Gray) by Mark Rothko, an abstract expressionist.

A lot of people think Rothko's art is just paint on a canvas. Anybody could do it. I read up on him and read that he saw art "as a tool of emotional and religious expression." He used colors to invoke some sort of feeling and emotional experience or thought within.

I can understand that. This painting is how I'm feeling right now. Cause when I look at it, I see just a whole lot of darkness. A whole lot of nothing. A void. I feel like nothing, which is what I see in the painting. Just black and gray. But hey, he must have felt that way, too. So I'm not alone in the world. There are people dying in Iraq!

Julia (Gus) is one of those people who you cannot take to a Contemporary Art wing in a museum! Believe me, I've tried. In fact, I believe her exact words were, "There should be a holocaust of contemporary art." We went to the Art Institute of Chicago, and she saw a Rothko, and she thought it was trash. Understandable. It had nothing to do with fantasy or apothecaries or historical periods or armor!

"This world of imagination is fancy-free and violently opposed to common sense."

So You Wanna be in Seriously Bent?

School started this week. Hooray! Last semester, hooray! Going back to school meant nothing to me but sorrow and pain of having to wake up in the morning and sit through boring lectures. However, I was excited to get back to Seriously Bent! Although, the funny thing is that I hung out with them a majority of the break. Not all of them, but I work with most of them... and I spent New Years with some of them, and orgies, and so on and so on. I feel like we got closer over break. In more ways than one.

(Flashback.)

Anywho, Tuesdays and Thursdays are good days because of Seriously Bent.

In fact, I just want to throw this out there, Nick Wilson ("Bad Times" Wilson) came up to me today at work and said,

"You make me feel better when you're here. You're like my security blanket."

That was nice to hear. He's not always a douche bag.

Tuesday, however, was Tuesday Fun Day. Our director, Michael Anastasia (Nominee for one of Boston's most eligible bachelors, thank me very much.) was out of town - so Jeremy Brothers, our former director and nominee for one of my favorite people in the world, thank you very much - met us for food and drinks. We enjoyed food and friends and PITCHERS of Barbie Juice! (Tropical Breeze at the Red Hat, but named Barbie Juice because it tasted like what would come out of Barbie's vagina.) I got a little... well, dry-humpy. I've just decided that's my new word for my version of being drunk. But I had fun. I always enjoy spending time with them, because there are catfights and horrible comments and Nick and I fighting for Jeremy's affection. Ah, good times.

Thursday, we were all a little weird. Some were hungover (some meaning Julia, who arrived in little Nick Mandella's clothes) and some were just lazy. We did a ton of crappy scenes, Trevor did a lot of horrible, douche bag improv, and Mitch scaled the room and initiated a scene on the top of a cabinet. (As shown above.)

We ended up leaving early and having lunch together (at separate tables across the room, of course) in the caf.

We've got a ton of shit to do, planning, and rehearsing, and a lot of shows coming up. So, basically, we're just Seriously Retarded.

Meet Gus.

Some of you may know her as Jules, or Julia. But forget about it. This is GUS. (Although, Gus is like the more hardcore version of Jules, so I wouldn't really say this adorable picture depicts Gus, but oh well, meet Gus.)

Gus is a lot of things to me. First and foremost, she's one of my best friends. She's my co-worker. She's my employee (I'm her boss! Even though she's been there longer than me... we know girl.) We're on Seriously Bent together. She's my BAD shoulder angel. She's my wedding date. And she's the one responsible for everything I've done wrong for the past year or so of my life, but I love her for it.

Julia has a way with me. She can get me to do anything. Show my boobs? Sure. Make out with everyone on our improv group? Okay. Smoke a cigarette? I'm there. Have another drink, even though I have to get up early and/or I'm driving? Let's go! It's always a good time with her.

(Us... having a good time.)

Gus drinks Bud Heavy (Eric: What's Bud Heavy? I've heard it so much, but I don't know what it is. Mitch: It's regular Bud. Budweiser. It's a Central Mass thing. No, it's a Julia thing.) ... and the only wine she drinks is Arbor Mist Berry Merlot. She wears plaid shirts (sometimes DOUBLE plaid shirts) jeans and clunky brown shoes. But loves to let her boobs show, and oozes sexuality. She's basically a sexy mountain woman.

I realize people who read this blog will generally know who Julia is... all five of you. But - I feel like she deserves a post all to herself, because she's Gus now. I'm introducing Gus.

Gus considers this blog to be "an account of love, hate, obstacles, pain and above all, friendship...i'll be the witty, charismatic friend that fucks everyone...k?"

So there's witty, charismatic, whoretastic Gus.

My dreams have been killed.

When I was little (and this movie came out in 1995, so I was 9) I was obsessed with Brad Renfro. Who is he? I don't know, he just played Huck in the legendary film Tom and Huck. He was the lead, next to legendary actor Jonathan Taylor Thomas (JTT if you're nasty.)

I don't know why I liked him... I just did. He was cute. "Sexy", if I knew what sexy was. I would spend my parent's money on Bop Magazine and Teen Beat and hang posters of him on my walls. I was going to marry him.

Then he fell of the face of the Earth. According to imdb he was in a bunch of movies that were nothing. And in an episode of Law and Order: Criminal Intent, but he was a nobody.

Well, he died today.

He was found dead on a floor. He had a drug problem. He was a child star, and then he had a drug problem while he tried to form an acting career. Why does that happen to so many child stars? Why does fame at such an early age have to kill people? Why did fame at an early age have to kill my future husband?

You know who else it killed like a month ago? Chrissy from Now and Then. (Yes, that's a Canadian gossip site.) That movie also came out in 1995. I feel young.

I'm glad I wasn't a child star. I would probably be approaching my death right now. You would all be sad. So so sad.

Coming up on "Barrett All": Tuesday fun day, and "You're my friends, because you're white."

I want to see!

NOTHING

My sister wants to dye her hair. I don't think she should. In 9th grade, I dyed my hair for the first time. I put blonde highlights in it. My hair was basically the same color as hers. Then I kept going lighter blonde until freshman year of college, when I went red. Bright red. Clown red. It was a drastic change.

I was going to pull up a picture of me with blonde hair, but they're all so hideous. So, I'm not going to do that. Maybe tomorrow. But this was the brightness upon first dye. Also, I am Harry Potter.

Sometimes I miss being blonde, but having red hair changed me. I don't know how to explain it without sounding like a cheesy movie, but it helped me come out of my shell and discover myself. God, I hate myself.

Anyways, she claims that our natural "dirty blonde" hair is ugly.

Betsy: I hate it. Its like the color of nothing. Its like what nothing would look like.

I don't think so. I think nothing would look like this.

Lost in Translation: McDonald's

Julia: That's not how you say 'I love you' in German!! [the bottom one - though illegible]
Nick M: Well, then let's compare to the other languages and see if they're right... Hey, Mitch, how do you say 'I love you' in Japanese - is it vertical line, vertical line?
Julia: Oh... it's supposed to say 'I'm loving it'. It's right.

I'm watching you.

To the guys who were douche bags and made Evan and I, among all our protectors and angry staff members, lose our cool... we're watching you. Do not tell me to shut the fuck up and disrespect me and treat me as if I'm nothing because I'm a woman. I go bat shit crazy.



I will send an army of American Girl dolls your way.

Worky Turkey

This is the last weekend of my vacation! Guess where I'm spending it? Working! Every single day!

Today I did a somewhat double. I woke up at like 10... and then decided I didn't want to hurry and exercise, shower, and head into town. So I took my sweet ass time. Fridays are a weird day. I have my weekly Personnel Director meeting with Evan at 12:30. It always feels so weird. We get work done but we just goof around and annoy Liza with dance and song. Anyway, I showed up at like 2:30 and actually got work done! (Amid following people around with a stack of post-its so I could quote them, and dance to TLC with Liza.)

(As Jeremy tried to do a box office order)
Evan: Is that his last name? I don't think so. . .
Jeremy: You're kind of a little twat.

Evan did a double today too, because he covered the box office for Jules. We're a manager powerhouse!

When we weren't struggling to get shows started and make sure people were seated correctly and well accommodated...

We took pictures. In stolen hats. Who wouldn't want us as their boss??

No Bandaids!

This picture was taken on a Chicago Transit Authority train.

Chicago is really serious about keeping band aids, and people who wear band aids, off their trains.

If I ever get a tattoo, it's going to be a band aid on my ankle. It's a long story. (Not really, I have bad ankles, it's kind of an inside joke... with myself.) I will not be allowed on the trains in Chicago. Unfortunate!

I'll just have to pay $200 in cab fare again.

I liked Chicago anyway.

The Best Things About 2007

While despite thoughts that 2007 would be the worst year of my life (and hey, it sure started out that way), I actually had a pretty fabulous year. Here's why:

Improv. I graduated the Improv Asylum training center in 2006, then got into performing in March of 2007. I worked with multiple groups on the Asylum's House Teams (Building 19, DIHOP - Dave's International House of Pattycakes, The A-Wipes, Falcor the Destroyer, Back Alley Grocers) and I met some great people, and really improved as an improviser. Thanks to the house teams, and performing, I was confident enough to audition for Seriously Bent (pictured above). Luckily, I made it. Though, maybe not based entirely on skill. I'm sure it helped that I was friends/worked with a large majority of the group. But due to improv, I've met probably the best people in my life. Through the house teams, I met some great friends that I get to form some kind of show with this year. And through Seriously Bent, I got a free and AMAZING trip to Chicago. I've had some crazy times, including a lot of drinks, kissing, tears and dry humping.

I grew up in 2007, and I turned 21 years old. I switched to Verizon and got a cute green phone (Mint Chocolate) and I named it Finn. I got a hot green Coach bag. I picked up casual smoking to support Julia's smoking habit. I got my ipod and wallet stolen. I went to New York twice, Washington D.C., and Chicago. I got my heart broken. I moved back to Everett from Boston. I got a new job and a pay raise, then ultimately quit that job, gained another one after the fact, and got a bigger pay increase. RELUCTANTLY said goodbye to a lot of people, one in particular! I made mistakes.

This year I've decided to pick up blogging. Because I read other people's blogs like it's my job. And I get so jealous that they have one and I don't. Why can't I have one? Sometimes I'm smart, witty, and funny. And my life is filled with insane characters, like a sitcom. Patty: the sitcom. And hey, there's a writer's strike. So tune in?