Dinner at Pop's house

Last night Nick Mandella threw an adorable little dinner party. It was an intimate group where we laughed a lot, clapped a lot, made fun of each other and other things, and enjoyed each other's company. The group consisted of Nick W., Nick M., Christina, Rewan, Talia and I. We ate bread and mozzarella and balsamic and pasta and green beans with garlic and we drank wine. It was sort of like The Last Supper. Y'know, the last supper, not just any last supper. The last supper.

Here are some highlights:

Nick Wilson: I wanna go play Warcraft and jerk off with him. [Who that is about needs no explanation.]

Nick Wilson to Talia: Let me see your locket, are there ashes from 1943 in there?

Talia after the 5th Jewish joke: Wow... I'm just gonna go to Auschwitz and call it a day!

Nick Wilson to Christina: Did you see what I brought for you? I got that Toblerone for you! It's half eaten, though.

Rewan on Nick Mandella: He's gay, he's not useless!

Nick Mandella about a cigar: Nick, no! I have to put it in my mouth first!

Christina to me, after burping: I'm a peach! You should spend more time with me!

(Nick's front door calls so he can buzz Rewan in, he takes the phone from me.)
Me: No! But I .... URGH!... No... I thought I .... I WANNA DO IT.... URGGGGHHHHH. (I really wanted to press the button!)

In the end, I basically had a good time. They're all basically good people. I love the Dead Comedian's Society.

The Secret Movie Club

Remember the Babysitter's Club? Well now I'm part of a club that is nothing like it. I'm part of the Secret Movie Club.

For the past two nights, I have spent late hours in the theater watching good movies ("Metropolitan" and "Barcelona") with Jeremy and Nick Wilson. It sort of happened by accident, on my part. Thursday night I spent a long time talking to Kelly and Trevor, and then Jeremy and Nick came down to watch the movie, and well, I stayed. I was reluctant to watch because I'm a bad movie watcher. I really can't watch them, they don't hold my attention for long enough time. But I guess I don't give them a chance enough, because I really enjoyed them both. Particularly "Metropolitan".

It's been weird though, because Thursday and Friday seemed like one entirely too long day. Thursday I worked, then I hung out with Trevor and Kelly, and then I got angry and drank, and then I watched "Metropolitan", and then I decided to wake Nick Mandella up and sleep at his place. Since Nick Wilson pays money to live in that apartment, but doesn't live there, he walked me there to help me wake Nick up. We ended up standing in front of a Sicilian barber shop door, watching the rain, smoking cigarettes, and talking about Seriously Bent and such until 4:30, at which point we continued walking to Nick's and then we woke Nick up, who unwillingly buzzed us in. I swear I could hear the "I fucking hate you guys" in the buzzing.

We then stayed up until 7am, sort of drunk, sorting through several boxes of his books from Georgia. There was a lot of Emerson. Then we found a yearbook, and we laughed through that - and had a particularly weird moment when we cracked up laughing when Nick said, "Oh [person's name]. . . He killed himself." But it really wasn't funny. . . and Nick was friends with him. . . so there was laughing, and "No, he really did!" and then the laughing stopped, and then I just felt sad.

I saw Nick's high school mushroom cut. And Nick read through his journals from high school, and yes, he was a pretentious cock then too. Ok, maybe not, but compared to my diaries it's like. . . he had real feelings and emotions. And they were Italian leather covers from his great grandfather. Oh and he referred to cigarettes as "cancer sticks". . . as he read with a cigarette in his mouth. My diaries were like "Wuz Up, diary? Today I went to school. Vinny's so cute!"

Regardless, we spent the night walking through the remnants of Nick's younger days, and I felt sort of sad, and happy at the same time. I don't hang out with Nick often (at least solo), and I know what I know about him. . . so it's sort of funny knowing raw feelings of a person when they were 15-16 more than you know now.

Then I slept for what seemed like nothing (3 hours) and went to work, where I was attacked by a mouse. (By attacked I mean I just saw one.)

But anyway, we all met and watched "Barcelona" last night, which was the second part of the trilogy. It was really good. I have a huge crush on Chris Eigeman now. Also, the secret to our movie club is that we watch the movie, then follow it with the trailer. I don't get it, but it's become a tradition. (If doing it twice can count as a tradition.)

I'm wondering if this will be long lasting, or just a weird 48 hour thing that we'll talk about for years in the future.

I'll Show You An Easter

I don't like that stores are closed today. I mean, I have to study for an Art History test tomorrow (the above picture is entitled "The Resurrection of Christ" by Piero della Francesca) and I can't really go out, but it's Easter! How many people still celebrate Easter? And when I mean celebrate Easter, I mean go to church and eat ham with their family? What about all the Muslims and Jews? They have to stay inside today because the Christians are celebrating the resurrection of their Christ who wasn't even resurrected on this particular day (if at all)? What about me?

I'm not saying I don't believe in God (because I'm afraid to say that. What if he does exist? And I say I don't believe in him, then I got shot with a lightning bolt - because yes, my god is Zeuz) But, hey, I haven't gone to church since I got confirmed about 6 years ago. In fact, my church was shut down... with a candlelight vigil going strong about 948108 days at this point. I haven't got an Easter basket in I don't know how long. No fake bunny foot prints all over the rug. No plastic easter eggs with coins inside them. No decorated eggs that smell disgusting. Not even a chocolate bunny, or a Reese's peanut butter cup egg. Or a card that says, "Hey daughter, we love you because it's Easter!"

Is that why I hate that the stores are closed? Because I'm secretly upset with my family for not giving me presents on Easter? Do I hate Easter because it's the only Catholic holiday where I don't get gifts?? (I love Pentecost presents.) I'm selfish. But I'm not the one who decided to shut the world down for an entire day so my religion could celebrate the resurrection of a man who is still dead. Maybe I get being selfish from the religion in which I was raised.

I think I just got shot with a thunderbolt.

Emails from Abroad. . .

So Julia has been down in the Caymen Islands this past week visiting her sister. She's been emailing me to check in, and give me little updates and stuff. But last night's email was by far the best email ever, and one of the best stories Julia's ever told:

so i was at the full moon party here on the island...it was packed...i was kinda moody cause i wanted to get my groove on but julia came out to play...not gussy...and i didn't know anyone so i was totes out of my comfort zone..i was also being pushed like hell so i was getting pissed. So...here i am on the beach at a bar drinkin' and i go get another. The place is raging! so i'm waiting in line and a guy asks me what i'm getting i go " a vodka and redbull and a corona" (corona was on sale that night so don't worry...i would've gotten a bud) so he orders and we get to talkin' and he introduces himself as dave i say i'm julia blah blah blah...he asks where i'm from i tell him and what i do..i ask him the same he says Manhattan i ask what he does and he says a Magician...well i of course say "you're not shittin me right?" he says "no" and then proceeds (or procedes, i dunno) to pull out a deck of cards and show me awesome for real tricks i'll explain later. All i could think of was Mike A at goody's freakin out...So i found out he was here getting his free diving license and i toldhim i just went scuba diving for the first time etc...so the dude bought me the drinks..i offered to pay he said don't worry about it i thanked him and he cont. to show me tricks...afterwards he offered to walk me to my sister and i declined thinkin' he was kinda creepy and prob a hack job of a magician who could do some cool tricks...i meander away. COME TO FIND OUT he was david blaine! and i totes had no idea and i totes walked away from him....can we pause...i had no idea until i got home and my bro-in-law said "julia...that was really david blaine"...i mean what! i almost get hit by a boat propeller yesterday and i meet david blaine today...w/o knowing it...and turn the fucker down. I mean how oblivious can i get?! well i had to tell someone while the ordeal was fresh and you're it.

Yet another missed oppurtunity...the modern-day houdini and i wouldn't even let him escort me back to where i was. Fuck me...this is why i'll never get anywhere...i'll probably end up in a sporting house (whore house) in Dubai...

Just Thought I'd Throw This Out There. . .

I just ate fried squid.

And I didn't hate it.

But hearing Andrew say, "How's that tentacle?" didn't make me feel good about not hating it.

So I didn't eat another piece... and I may never again.

But I tried something new.

Who am I?

I want to write a play.

Gay for Fey?

Last year, Christopher Hitchens wrote a pretty notoriously offensive article in Vanity Fair about why women aren't funny, and why they don't need to be. I was mad because I'm a woman, and I do comedy, and I think I'm funny... and I'm also in love with Tina Fey, and well, she's funny.

And like most of his points I get, and I understand completely - and I'll be honest that when I go places I see men stand out more... but I think there are reasons for that. And, well, I shot back in the best way possible! For an article in a Magazine Writing class... I think I taught Christopher Hitchens a lesson! It was ALSO published in my friend's (and Suffolk's) online paper, The Suffolk Voice and can be found here.

But, this month's issue of Vanity Fair has a retort. And it's featuring funny ladies like Amy Poehler, Tina Fey, Chelsea Handler (who I don't find funny), Sarah Silverman, Amy Sedaris, etc etc. Maybe it's because I have an incredibly short attention span and too many words throws me off.... but I was bored by the article. Does that make me a bad person? Am I a bad female comedian? Am I bad woman because I was bored by an article about woman being powerful, funny woman.. which is everything I stand for? Maybe I just don't care... or maybe I'm jealous because hearing the words "It's easier for woman to be funny and be in charge" makes me terrified for my future because now I'm just one of the millions.

I don't know. But the behind the scenes video on VF.com is funny... and the pictures are great. I like pictures. My perfume smells good. Oh no! It's raining!

Post-Trip Hangover

Maybe it's because I just got off a 4 and a half hour Fung Wah bus ride from New York City, but I'm in a weird mood.

I'm so sick of Boston. I've done it all, and the things that I haven't done - I have no interest in doing. In New York I wanted to do everything, there were times when someone would say "What do you wanna do?" and I would say "It doesn't matter to me." and it REALLY didn't. Usually I just say that, but really I know what I want to do but don't want to be the one to say it. I wanted to travel up and down the city, visit every nook and cranny, drink at a place that served $2.50 beers one night, then buy a $65 bottle of wine the next night to share with an over-priced (but delicious) steak dinner. And even though I was full and my feet hurt, I wanted more more more - so I schlepped from Midtown to the Financial District to watch drunk people celebrate St. Patrick's Day, just to get up the next morning and do more! And one full day just isn't enough.

In Boston, I have one bar that I frequent, and I never feel like going anywhere else because it's out of my comfort zone. I've fallen into a pattern, I hang out with the same people every week (but that, I don't mind, I love my friends) and we do the same exact things. I work every night, and when I'm bored - I go visit work. It's just boring... and now that I'm graduating, I'm bored.

And I guess everyone feels this way post-trips and they get in a "I wanna go back!" mood, but I feel that way every single time I come home from New York. Maybe I just hate working, because to be honest, that's what I dread most on a weekly basis . . . or maybe I'm just crazy. Or maybe I just want to be a full-time Tina Fey stalker. Sure.

But I saw really good improv at UCB on Sunday night... with really great people, and people who I thought would be great but were surprisingly not that great. I also finally finished Steve Martin's "Born Standing Up"... I liked it.

Finger finger bang bang

Jeremy made fun of my blog the other day. I forget what he said. But he gets it sent to his inbox. Therefore, he likes it. Which he also told me. But I don't really care either way... I mean his past opinions have only shaped the way I perform, dress, speak, wear my hair, and act in public. So, yeah. Whatever.

In other news, Monday was such a a great night. Seriously Bent had a show at the Tremont St. dorms. It was weird, and decent, and I mentioned coat hanger abortions and finger banging. . . which was, awkward. Some girls got up and left in the middle of the show, the story I created for them is that they were both pregnant, and from our show found out that coat hangers can alleviate that, so that's what they were off to do. Patty! What?

After our show we went to Goody Glover's. I brought my sister with me and introduced her to all my friends. I think it was the perfect night to do so, as they were all true to their characters and in good moods. Now she can understand when I tell stories about these people... and understand their craziness. It wasn't awkward, not even when Nick Mandella looked at her and said, "Who is this?!?" when he walked in the room. Jeremy made fun of me by doing improv scenes as "Level 2 Patty" and Betsy told Nick M. stories of my childhood, and Mike... well, Mike loves magic (and Jameson). There was a magician there, and he did some card tricks, and Mike erupted. He kept screaming, "THAT DID NOT JUST HAPPEN! WHAT?!?! WHAT!!! SOMETHING'S HAPPENING HERE TONIGHT... SOME FREAKY SHIT IS GOING DOWN." while Jeremy tried heightening on Mike's loudness by screaming "WHYYYYY?!?" and grabbing his face. None of this makes sense, or sounds funny, but assuming a majority of you know them - then yeah, it was funny.

But the greatest moment by far was drunk Evan. Oh, Evan. So adorable drinking his White Russians! I was giving him a ride home, and all the alcohol hit him like a ton of bricks, and he just went crazy. At several points, his legs were out the window, then his whole torso was out the window, with me clinging to his arm or jacket. If it were anyone else, I would probably have killed them. But for some reason, I couldn't be annoyed. It was Evan being an Evan I haven't seen in a while - maybe it's less job stress! Then Jules, Betsy, Evan and I went to South Street, and he kept begging for the juke box, then started writing us notes (which I will leave off here for Evan's sake, but they were SO funny.) His notes were his stream of conscience... and his grammar was poor. Ok, fine, one blurb!

"Anne Frank? Jew. Me too... Why I'm so nice? Creepy.
Jules. Wolf? Lone wolf? Glad at South St. Safe with ourselves. It's always
better w. friends. friends understand. [lots] o weed? it's okay we'll all make
it out... Nick Wilson want fuck me!"

Road Trip: IHOP

This past weekend was a whirlwind of weird and fun.

Friday night was pretty crazy... dance, drunk, laughing, games, etc. (and that etc. means many, many things.) So Saturday, we were pretty laid back and wanted a low key night. We hadn't eaten all night, and with Keith being sick, we had no candy. So, Jules Andrew and I decided to get late-night food. But South Street (24 hour diner) was SO busy because the clubs were just getting out. We opted for IHOP.

We pulled to the North End so Julia could download a GPS function on her phone... it took like, 10 minutes, ha. We headed to Brighton to find the IHOP. We got lost like... twice? And ended up reaching Brighton in about 25 minutes. At this point it was about 4:30 am. We lost an hour due to the time change... damn I hated it. I like it in the long run, but when you lose an hour of sleep - it is NOT cool.

We had gained our second wind in the car, then lost it after we ordered our food (strawberry banana pancakes for me, an omelet for Andrew, and pretty much one of everything for Jules.) So we sat there almost falling asleep the entire time, and commenting on drunk people around us. One guy covered his face in pancakes, and there were like 3-4 people I saw who resembled Improv Asylum people... which proves that I'm insane and need to get away from that place. I was so tired that I laughed at everything Jules said... which included updates on her pooping schedule.

After the night was over, getting home at 6am seemed SO unnecessary. I crawled into bed regretting staying out so late. . . knowing I had to get up in like 4-5 hours. I barely slept, and spent the entire day struggling to keep my eyes open. I hate springing forward... but I can't wait for Spring. Damn it.

The Bean Pot

This post is overdue, but last week Seriously Bent competed in the Boston Comedy Bean Pot, an improv competition.

We first competed on Thursday night, where we performed against two other teams for points. Every scene we did was scored, and we could get up to 15 points (5 points for each judge.) Funnily enough, Harry Gordon was a judge. I like him. He didn't show us any favoritism - because I'm not even sure he likes us that much. But oh well, HARRY!

We did some good and bad scenes... that's how improv works. There were some great moments, where Eric did an amazing playbook scene (where the only lines he could say came from a playbook) and Julia ended with a button of "I'm going to go masturbate." And then, the scene where Trevor and I were best friends (girls) and decided to kill Trevor's husband, and then we kissed in the end... so innocently and non-sexual. Sometimes improv can be so great and rewarding. We won that night by 10 points. (I think?)

Then Saturday rolled around, we played against one team in the semi-finals and we won by ONE point. Do you know how hard it is to do a scene when you KNOW that you have to perform great or you won't win? The very last scene that determined your fate in the competition... god, I was shaking. I had to take that nervous energy and put it into my character, I thought I was going to have a seizure.

But whatever, the point of this is that we got into the finals and then lost by one point. The good part? We got a perfect score on our long form. The only perfect score in the competition. And guess what? We're a long form troupe. That's our thing. And also? We looked fucking hot. But that's Jeremy Brothers for you... he only accepted good looking people on to the troupe. Oh, and talented. But mainly pretty.

Despite losing, I thought it was a great experience. Sure I tripped on a step and got covered in dust, and that was the other teams' first impression of me. Sure, we had some bad scenes and smoked tons of cigarettes out of nervousness (for some) and lifestyle choice (for most). But, I think it unified us as a group. This will sound stupid, but it made me feel like I was part of a team... we have a strong bond and so much support. And improv is one of the most satisfying, and terrifying, things ever, but I feel really safe with every one of them.

And I'll be done with them in 2 months. Sigh.

GLAMOUROUS

So my favorite magazine is Glamour. I think that's ok - so if you don't think that's ok, then I don't care. (I do, so please refrain your judgment.)

Regardless, it's like my favorite day of the month when it comes in the mail. I mean, I want to be a magazine writer. I've done all sorts of writing in my time, and I've found that magazine writing is far more rewarding and enjoyable for me. It's therapeutic, and it allows me to talk about whatever the fuck I want to talk about. I get to have my own voice, and a lot of the time I can talk about myself, which is important. My goal (at the moment) is to enter NYU's Magazine Writing program in Fall 2009 - but, well, it is a dying art... and grad school's so much money...

Anyway, I'd love to write for Glamour. I love it! I feel better about myself when I read it cause it says things to me, like it says "Hey kiddo! It's okay if you use Jon Stewart or Weekend Update as your source of news..." and it also tells me how to alleviate bad moods in the workplace, and how to be a BOSS that's not a BITCH (which I've yet to master...)

But I'll take anything. I love magazines so much. Even the smell of them. I just hate all the ads and little cards that say "Buy more subscriptions!"

Here's what I learned from the April 2008 issue of Glamour:

1. Buying a coffee from Starbucks everyday is OKAY! As long as I cut out other things like going out to dinner/lunch every day, or drinks, or other things I spend too much money on. So basically, I have to give up my lifestyle for a damn coffee. Hm... I'm in.

2. Salma Heyek is hot. She's been my lady crush ever since she was on "Ugly Betty". But now she has a baby and everything, and well, I'm not ready for that sort of commitment.

3. That going green is cool. I've always said, "I love the color green, but I'm not trying my best to make my world a green one." I probably still won't try my best. But hey, I have ONE energy saving light bulb... and I rarely ever use the lamp that it's in... so that's like an EXTRA energy saving light bulb. Huzzah!

4. That "labiaplasty" (reducing and reshaping a woman's labia) is the new big surgery. Apparently, some women have such large labia that it's uncomfortable to walk - never mind ugly. But according to the men they polled, no man thinks a vagina is ugly. New subject? Yes.

5. That the so-called "Happiest Clothes on the Planet" are the ugliest clothes on the planet in my opinion.

Reason #64 why I Love Julia

Julia re-visiting chat rooms.

She had the urge tonight to delve into a chat room for the first time in like 6 or 7 years. I could totally see her preaching to people... or cybering for the fun of it.

It was a sad and funny experience. And I'm glad she shared. I'm not sure if the creepy, pedophile-y chat room world can handle her. They're looking for a weak, naive child... and Julia is... well, Jules. She is powerful, looking to find out what's up with the kids these days - and she's ready to preach or have a nice, normal conversation about wizards and science fiction.

Here were some of the quality tidbits:

Convo #1:

johnkalaway: like to take a big cock deep inside of you?
Julia: not virtually

Convo #2:

krazielegz2007: so tell me about yourself babe
Julia: don't call me babe

Convo #3:
johnkalaway: ass?
Julia: absolutely
Julia: or should i say 'asssbolutely'

And finally, #4:
Julia: noo...i don't wanna do any of that 'i'm gonna grab your cock with my mouth and suck till i cry' shit

When You're Alone and Life Is Making You Lonely

Is it just me, or is Downtown Crossing getting remarkably more sketchy as the days go by?

As a youngin, my mother used to take my sister and I there all the time! Like every weekend! We'd go to Filene's - which doesn't exist anymore and looks like this bundle of sadness:



But we'd walk all over the place. I strongly remember the smell of roasted nuts (which hasn't gone away). But I feel less safe nowadays. Maybe it's because I'm not with my mom, or because I never zip my bag and I probably should.

But today I walked through a mass of people, and got harassed. I wasn't like pushed back and forth between the guys - but some guys yelled some sexual things, and one girl said, "That bitch just walked right through us." Yes, I'm sorry, I forgot that you are allowed to take your crew of 50 and stake out an entire stretch of sidewalk. I will move to the street, where I belong.

I was just going to DSW for a new pair of kicks! Y'know, that picture doesn't look too sketchy. It makes it look nice. But I guess that's how it goes, you can't capture nature's beauty with a camera - and you can't capture it's sketchy grossness either.

When I'm Feeling Sad, Jesus Makes Me Glad

When I'm upset (for various reasons, like Seriously Bent losing a competition by one lousy point) I'm not happy. Is that normal? To not be happy when you're upset? Didn't think so.

But when I'm pissed, or upset, or annoyed, I do things to make me not that way! (Is that normal? To try to get yourself to not be upset anymore?)

I play with my dog (pictured above camouflaged in snow). I'll go upstairs and steal his toys so that he'll fight me for them, or pet him, or make him growl at me. He's really cute. He's Griffin, and he's getting old and that makes me really sad. When his legs shake, I can't look at him. Sometimes I cry about it. But nobody knows that. But sometimes he has a lot of energy and chases my mom when she's vacuuming. And he doesn't have a tail, because he's a boxer, so he bites other dog's tails because he's jealous.

I also go for long drives, or long walks. Today I went to Woburn, and stopped at the drive-thru Starbucks, and then went back home. Oh, and I sing very loudly in the car. I live an interesting life.

Sometimes I'll just show cleavage and "smooch randoms". (I had to quote it, because it's Mike Anastasia's line.)

And that's how the cookie crumbles. Be happy, everybody!

Love and Marriage

A couple got married last night at the Improv Asylum.

They had their first date there, then they had like anniversaries there and such, and it was such a monumental place for them that they decided to get married there. They got engaged at the end of January - and instead of eloping, which was the thought of the groom - they decided to plan it in a month and get married on the Leap Year.

So, is their first anniversary February 29, 2012?

Anyway, the staff all dressed up. The men wore tuxes and looked so handsome! The ladies wore dresses - though I'm pretty sure Michelle and I wouldn't get away with that as wedding attire. I can't help cleavage, and she can't help having legs! I was hoping to stay in our outfits all night, but everyone backed out on me... but I still wore my dress. It was fun.

The couple got married during the show - so there was like a normal show with improv and sketches and interviews, but there was an exchange of vows and the officiating of a marriage by a former IA musician (though sometimes still a musician), Peter Fernandez. It was strange. And at one point Doug came out (in the character of a British cousin) and brought attention to the fact they were getting married in the basement of a CVS... though he left out the fact it smells like dead rat.

I can't imagine getting married at Improv Asylum. But, I guess it's because I'm there all the time and know all its faults (meaning broken things and smells). It's their special place, and that's cool. Maybe Janine and I will get married at the drive-thru Starbucks in Woburn.

That graphic was made by Dana Douglass. She's talented, she made her own Save the Dates with a similar design. She's getting married soon, with me in the wedding, which will not be at Improv Asylum.

Happy March!