Overheard at the Northshore Mall...

Mom: "Honey, what about these sandals?"
Probably 13-year-old Girl: No, they're ugly.
Mom: Well, look they stretch so they'll fit your fat foot!
(Girl hits mother.)

Guy: Do you want me to build you a bear?
Girl: No. I want pretzels.
Guy: Jessica! You can't get pretzels, we just had dinner.
Girl: But they SMELL good.
Guy: Fine.

Older woman in dressing room: I don't know about this store... you have to watch out for rips and holes and stuff. It doesn't last longer than a season!
Other older woman: Yeah.
Older woman 1: Oh god... oh god... this doesn't fit. I can't get it on. God, you have kids and you go up a size!
Older woman 2: Or two!
Older woman 1: Oh, I don't think I like this store anymore. I think they changed their sizes.
Older woman 2: This fits.
Older woman 1: Yeah, something's definitely different.

(and one at work, don't know why I thought this was so funny)
J: What'd you have for lunch?
V: A salad with chicken and feta cheese.
J: I love feta cheese.
V: Me too. I'm a fan. I'm a fan of feta cheese on Facebook.
J: Are you?
V: Not really. But I will be in like... 20 minutes.


and p.s. I am the worst guilt-ridden person ever. And, I just want everyone to know that I don't hate or dislike anyone for giving me shit. I do it all the time, so I can't expect to not get it back. And the person I was quoting - yeah, can be a dick. But there have been a few times where he's done nice things... like I don't know, complimented an entire outfit (except my shirt)... or, um... stopped me from crying, and doing other things... and uh, well, threatened to beat up people who are mean to me. And there was that one time... when I almost got raped... and he apparently fought with the guy and consoled me. So, you know, people aren't all that bad. And there are worse problems in the world.

Like the fact that I *just* got into United States of Tara, and now it's over. Great. Oh John Corbett, aka Aiden, I love you.



xoxo, Barrett All

Maybe it's me, Maybe it's you.

Sometimes I can dish it but I can’t take it. And sometimes I can take it and enjoy playful teasing, but other times I can’t. Why's that?

Like Saturday, when I showed up to rehearsal looking like an electrocuted Sesame Street character… it was funny to be teased. But then the joke carried out to much, much later (when I was looking pretty again!) and comments got mean and hurtful. Like the describing to people how ugly I looked. Sure, I know it wasn’t me and they weren’t saying I was ugly – but still, I got the point. I looked awful, I had a rough night, whatever! Is it so bad for me to take it personal?

And this here blog gets shit on all the time. Sometimes I take it so hard that I’ll block it for a few hours because I’m embarrassed by it, and the comments people say to me. And I know that’s so stupid and I shouldn’t get so upset – but I really don't think it's fair for ANYONE to shit on something that makes someone happy.

Most days I blame myself. I look at my environment (comedy) and the groups of friends I have (a majority of them are guys) and I realize that it’s what it’s supposed to be like. And I’m a very snarky and sarcastic person, so I get it right back to me. I don’t mind that. I have a lot of fun in my life! Being a dick.

But then there are times when I don’t think it’s fair. And deep down, I'm still a girl. If I want to blog a list about things that made me happy, or YouTube videos I like – I should be able to do it. Nobody should tell me “Your blog has turned into…” or “That’s stupid, don’t write about that.” Like, seriously, shut the fuck up. Worry about your own ridiculous life and stop commenting on my choices.

There’s a line between fun teasing, and just being a plain ol’ dickhead. I would never intentionally hurt anyone (and whenever I cross a line and do, I feel bad and apologize.)

Recently, a friend was talking to me about how they don’t understand why they’re considered a mooch. And I said, “Well, to me, I pay for things for you all the time and a lot of the times you ask, I don’t just provide.” And he said, “Right, that makes sense, because you see me buying things and doing things for other people but never for you.” Which is true – multiple times we’ve been at a bar and he’ll buy other people drinks and not me. Once a few months ago he bought 3 people we were with (2 girls and even a guy) a drink, and I was the only person excluded. How am I supposed to feel? (And the funny thing is he’s repeatedly telling me I need to stop hanging out with people who treat me like shit. A little confusing.)

So, while I understand that sometimes I get a little offended too easily sometimes – is it really that hard to ask for people to stop SHITTING all over me and treat me like a person, and not “one of the guys” every now and then?

I guess it is. And I can't decide whether I'd hate when people are nice to me instead. It'd be a little disorienting! Stupid life! I bet that stupid Sun Baby never gets shit on by the Teletubbies!

Negativity is a little exhausting sometimes. And I get it enough from myself! Don't need the whole world jumping on the bandwagon.

guinness straws.

Over the past month or so, I'm collecting mistakes. Or, rather, I'm collecting moments... that I'm not very proud of. I thought, "maybe I'll share less about my life and these not-so-proud moments can be swept under the rug!" No. When you make that decision, people still find out. I'm not the only one in this town with a big mouth, people.

Regardless, this morning I woke up feeling like... death. Nothing in the world could drag me out of bed. I had no motivation. I had liquor IN MY HAIR (from falling off a bed and having a cup of vodka spill in it) and I was in pretty rough shape mentally and physically. But, I had rehearsal at 10am. It was 9:56 and I had to get there... so I mustered up all the strength I could and stumbled out of my house to get there at 10:30 looking like a mess.

But, I'm SO glad I did. I thought I wouldn't be able to do improv without throwing up or crying on the back line. But I immediately was made fun of and shit on by my friends and well, it's what I needed.

We made prank phone calls. We did the SILLIEST scenes I've ever been a part of. And I had the most fun I've had doing improv in a while (I say that like... every week.)

And that's the beauty of Awkward Compliment. We've grown into this band of brothers. We've each dealt with a lot of tough shit recently, both as a group and personally, and we've always got our "ironic asshole" Thursday night TGIFridays night, and Saturday morning rehearsals, and Wednesday night house teams... so we spend quite a bit of time together - and help each other through shit by being total douche bags to each other.

Anywho, the best part is that I haven't totally fucked up my relationships with them yet and they still kinda like me and respect me (eh.... well....). So, it's like my new Seriously Bent. Except without all the crazy and weird stuff... eh, now that i think about it, there's no replacement for SB, really.

NO!

That picture alone justifies my hatred of mice/vermin.

Look at its clasped hands!!! It's up to no good!!!!!! MICE ARE NEVER UP TO ANY GOOD!!!

Nice.

Every morning, I manage to get up a little earlier (7:15-7:30) and catch an early bus/train combo so that I'll get into the city just in time to go totally out of my way to Faneuil Hall and get Starbucks. I love it when I do something - ANYTHING - before work. It makes me feel like I have more of a day to myself instead of just WORK.

Today was no exception. While waiting for my coffee to be made, an older gentleman came over to me. I was listening to my iPod and shuffled through songs. He said, "Got a lot of messages?" and I chuckled. I didn't want to say, "No this is an iPod, idiot!" and he said, "You seem like you'd have a lot of messages! Phone calls, text messages, emails... coming through all day! I don't doubt it!" and I said, "Yeah." and laughed and smiled.

"I really like your shoes! They're so bright and yellow. It's such a treat."

"Thanks! Well, it's spring. Got to start dressing for it."

"Yeah, I guess! Well, they're nice. You're a beautiful young girl."

Then my drink was ready and I left and told him to have a nice day.

It was a nicest interaction that I've had with strange men who talk to me in a very long time. And I get into a lot of awful conversations with strange men. Like when I was at Trident last week looking through books and this guy came up behind me and creepily asked if I had a boyfriend and, I kid you not, asked if I'd like to join him in the bathroom.

Listen guy, that's not the first time I was lured into a bathroom! Mr. Un-original, no thanks! I decline!

Also, in front of Starbucks, three young girls were giving out free hugs. I declined those as well.

What Kind of Snobbery Is This?

Years ago, I would never consider myself a snob. I would consider myself the victim of snobby people. But that certainly wasn’t true. I wasn’t a victim at all – except of myself – and I was mainly a judgmental douche-cunt.

Like that episode of 30 Rock when Liz goes to her high school reunion and everyone hates her because she was such a bitch. It’s sort of like that… except, well, I doubt anyone would hate me for being a bitch ( I mainly kept all my hateful comments to myself… unlike some of my friends.)

But now, well, I’m a big ol’ snob.

Last week, while dining in New York, I got an email with an article from The Suffolk Journal (which, I won’t get into that publication…) about the Eat My Improv festival, hosted by Seriously Bent, that I took part in under the group titled: Secret Movie Club. The author said our “scripted material” got better as it went by, but she didn’t think we were all that great. Maybe if you knew the difference between a god damn “skit” “sketch” or “improv” then I’d trust your opinion.

Then today I was reading the Improper Bostonian and there was a blurb about improv. It said, “make up sketches on the spot” and I hated it.

It makes me think of all the rehearsals I’ve been in where we spend a good amount of time trashing other people, even commenting on certain scenes, and definitely remarking on other groups and theater styles (not just in Boston, either). The number of times we’ve made fun of improvisers who play sizzling bacon to start off a Harold. Yikes!

I’m a snob! I’ve been raised my SNOBS! We’re all high and mighty, entitled sons of bitches who think we know what’s best and fuck all the rest.

For a second I thought, “aw, I need to get the shit beaten out of me and taught what’s what” but… comedy is a harsh, harsh world and well, sometimes you gotta be a dick. I'm where I am today because of these d-bones :)

And sure... it crossed my mind that being a dick is the reason I almost got helped in the bathroom of a gay bar. But, well, I'd rather that than watch a scene with SIZZLING BACON!*




*Not true! Not true!!

The New Douche In Town

I am literally 12 years old.

When I was in middle school I had a crush on this guy that I’m going to call… Douche. Later, I would find out that name would be very fitting, but oh when you’re young and in love.

I had a crush on this guy from the literal moment I met him. He looked up at me in class and made a weird face at me, and I was like “who the fuck is this kid??? And why does he have the most amazing eyes, ever?!?”

I remember riding bikes with my friends (to Burger King where we hid our bikes behind bushes instead of locking them up) and telling them about Douche and how weird he was (yet, I couldn’t stop talking about him!)

I don’t know how it happened – but Douche and I became like best friends the next day. We were super close, and he’d walk home with me and my friends after school, and we’d go ice skating together, and we’d talk on the phone, and I think I even went with him to get a haircut once. Once he came over and I had to pretend the Barbie’s all over the floor weren’t mine. But I don’t know what it was – his eyes, his awful Hawaiian t-shirts… I melted every time.

I never told him I liked him… until he started dating someone. And I was so visibly annoyed about it and he asked why, and I said, “Because I like you!” and he was so shocked. And then, he kissed me on the cheek and I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that felt as good as that moment did.

It was so bad that everyone basically knew me as the girl who liked him. It was kind of awful and adorable, albeit slightly pathetic. (Totally pathetic)

Well, soon enough, Douche went through puberty and the rest is history. He got HOT (which I always thought he was, but he got even more so) and he had a deeper voice, and y’know, all that good stuff. I still had a little thing for him – especially when my 8th grade teacher hit me and screamed at me and he yelled at the teacher for me in class. But, Douche became a thing of the past and I started dating someone else. (Oh, 13 year olds…)

Anyway, cut to now (TEN YEARS LATER)… where there’s a guy who for no real reason makes me melt into a puddle. I can’t form words right. I can’t make jokes (and when I do, they’re awkward and don’t go over well). He’s so not my type, but at the same time he is.

I decided earlier that I wasn’t going to have a crush on him anymore, and then he smiled embarrassingly at me and I had to grab someone to refrain from screaming, “I love you!” as he walked away. I don’t see any faults – even though he’s kind of a douche bag and apparently totally awkward and weird (direct quote from someone after asking them a question, “A. because he’s weird B. because he’s weird and C. because he’s fucking weird!”)

I am so 12 again and soon enough everyone will know me as the girl who likes “___” and years from now I’ll be blogging about this douchebag that I had a crush on.

Here's the thing... (we started out friends)

Lady GaGa is turning 23 today, and that literally means nothing to me except for the fact that I'm turning 23 this year, too.

I'm troubled by this for so many reasons because it makes me think of the following things:

Um, Lady GaGa sings songs about falling down in clubs and drinking and makes money off it. I sing songs while falling down in clubs from drinking and I lose money from it.

The Olsen Twins are a month younger than me and 150x richer.

Should I be in a better place in my life? (I'm not sure the answer: I have a steady paycheck, a strong group of friends, a lot of fun: I've gone to Vegas twice and NY 5 times over the past YEAR, and I've got my little comedy thing on the side) It's not like I want to be married! 23 is an odd age to be...

When I tell people my age, they say "Really? No you're not!" Do I seem that old? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? (Mature is good! Looking old is not!)

Why the F do I know it's Lady GaGa's birthday?!?

And... yeah. Scene.

Don't pout.

See, non-pouty Patty is better!

Lately, I’ve been having anxiety attacks like crazytime. It’s not always the kind when you’re in the shower and everything spins and you fall over and black out and your heart races (oh, is that just me?) Sometimes it’s just… hopelessness. Overwhelming hopelessness and there’s no rhyme or reason – and most of the time it’s based on over thinking and in hindsight, I never understand why I gave a shit.

Yesterday, I jokingly said, “Listen, I have a tough life!” and Nick responded, “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you make it worse for yourself.” And even though we were kidding (slash being passive aggressive with each other), it was so true. I do make my life more difficult than it is!

When stepping out of my head and really looking at my life from a bird’s eye view - I see things people should be jealous of. (I walk on a line between a total egomaniac and a total depressed mess) I have enough close friends (like really close friends) that I could fill a banquet hall with (so I can have a party!) I’m creative. I’m an improviser. I’m proactive, a hard worker, smart, funny, remotely attractive… all the ingredients for a good life to live! And it is a very good life. I’m thankful everyday for the relationships I have… the things I’ve accomplished… my BlackBerry. Y’know.

But I treat myself the worst.

I feel like Nick Wilson and I have this relationship where we… fight, maybe, kinda? Or we can’t understand each other. Or We both have depressive tendencies and brood a lot. He’s harsh with me… and he said a lot of things this week that made me (over)think my life (in a good way). Once he said, “… because you have no dignity!” and then I realized, holy shit, I don’t sometimes. I think I’m trying to turn myself into this open, outward person… like some of my friends… and that doesn’t suit me. I’m a nice girl. (Stop laughing, people…)

So, f it. F it all. I’m going to take some medication and get over it and have fun instead of thinking about my life… I’m also going to watch “Parental Control” on MTV and love the fact that my life is 10x better than anyone on that show.

Oh, I miss New York.

"I don't like wonderful people... I like us."

I spent a few days out of Boston and in New York City. I had a rough week last week and needed to be with different people in a whole different scene. And it was the best few days I've had in a very long time.

I can't even begin to describe it... so I won't. But it was a lot of fun.

Leaving out particularly major details, I'll tell you everywhere I went. Each place I loved.

Jazz clubs: Smalls, The Fat Cat, 55 Bar

Gay bar: The Stonewall Inn Boston needs something like this! Without... y'know... coke pushers who try to R you in bathrooms. Yeah. Could have done without that.

Food: Patsy's Pizzeria Delicious.

Pool was played, jazz was heard, drinks were flowing, snarky conversations were had, bacon, pepper and mayonnaise sandwiches were eaten (Nick Wilson only)... there was brooding, anxiety, love, and not a whole lot of sleep.

And I played this every morning... theme of the trip.

Patty Barrett, the brand.

Last week, my friend Evan got into the idea of up keeping the brand that is Evan Kaufman. He got a little bit more involved in Facebook, being selective, yet more open, on his profile. And despite the fact he never updates his Facebook statuses - we created a Twitter for him, and he has been updating and informing the world (or, just our group of friends) of his life. Now he’s considering a blog, which should be funny. (Kaufman All?)

It got me to start thinking about my brand, the Patty Barrett brand. Jeremy has been one to tell me (as my Made coach) that sometimes I mess up on this – maybe I paint myself as this alcoholic mess. So sometimes I’ll not blog for days because I feel bad about the way I present myself and then I re-think it and write a post about something dumb like bananas and how they’re delicious. (They really are, though!)

It’s a hard thing, representing yourself. If you’re a crazy, neurotic psycho bitch (Hypothetically speaking) – you have to try to conceal that in order for people to get to know, or like you. It’s like, if Pepsi is gross (Not hypothetical, it really is) it has to hide this fact with its branding! And, it does a good job, because sometimes they have cool commercials… and every now and then I fall for a good commercial. (But not for you, Pepsi! You can’t trick me!)

For the record, I’m not an alcoholic mess. I drink every now and then, and sometimes I make mistakes – but I’m a 22-year-old girl, who has a lot of fun friends, and 90% of those fun friends get into worse trouble than I do.

But, that’s it, how do you persuade people to like you? You want to be friendly, but not overwhelmingly so. You want to be funny, without offending anyone. You want to look nice and put together, without looking like you’re uncomfortable or trying too hard. (Tip: Don’t wear heels if you’re not a heel wearing type, or in a situation where heels suck, such as managing the Improv Asylum.)

We all have a brand and the trouble is making it a good one - one that people want to invest in. But I think I’m doing okay. It’s really just an interesting concept to me… personal branding.

My next step, the Barrett All doll.

These guys, eh?!

Dibello, Babyface and Duffy’s grad show last name was pretty spectacular. Best grad show I’ve ever seen. And that includes mine (although… we did have a great after party last night, but it – IN NO WAY – compares to the after-party of mine!!! Am I right?!?!?!)

There were some pretty talented people in that show, and it was a really enjoyable hour and a half of my life… that I’ll never, ever get back.

Afterwards we all hung out at Goody’s, of course. People drank. Evan had one but was still pretty drunktown, clawing at my face and hair. I texted Casey repeatedly throughout the night… or Jeremy would hijack my phone and do it, too. Even though Case Face was right next to us.

We sang “Happy Birthday!” to Dan like, 3 or 4 times.

Then Jeremy texted 3 or 4 people the following text:

"For fuck's sake. I need a dollar. Or a sushi boat for one. Or a managed health care plan. Call me ASAP. I'm a faun and I need a buck."

And I got responses like, “I love you something fierce.” And “Love it.” But it wasn’t me. It just wasn’t.

Then Kiley and I talked about former flames, and she said what is now my favorite pick up line, “What does your tongue taste like?” She said it in passing, but I loved the sound of it. “Hi, I’m Patty – what does your tongue taste like?”

We tried to go to 2 other bars after Goody’s and they wouldn’t let us in. I don’t see why. What’s weird about a group of 12 people going out at 1:40am on a Monday night/Tuesday morning?

Sure, one was holding a bag with a fat suit in it. One was angrily yelling at a cab driver to stop beeping. A few were drunk, 1 or 2 were sober (Kelly and I). What’s wrong with that picture? Nothing.

And Kelly wasn’t even drunk, but got “cut off” at Durty Nelly’s. That guy was a dick.

And… well, everyone, that’s how a grad show night is supposed to go. Take classes at IA and you too can have this experience.

"I'm gonna have a little baby Jonah!"

I don’t mind the time change because if I lose an hour, which I can sleep through on a Sunday, then who cares. Getting out at 5:30pm on a week night and having it be light for an hour or two extra makes up for it. The winter is so drab because when you get out of work and it’s dark, all you want to do is go home and sleep. Now we can’t do that!

Yesterday I got in at like 7:30 or 8am, some ridiculous time like that. I felt guilty and weird about it. I haven’t really strolled in that late in a while… and whenever I did it was because I was up to no good… whether it be walking around the city of Boston and visiting the seals outside the aquarium, making out in my car all night, or having a pseudo-orgy. I don’t know. Take your pick.

Then I woke up at 11:30. I slept very little. But, I got up and went about my day anyway because it was sunny and warm. I went for a walk, I did a little shopping, I read a book in the park. By the time rehearsal came, I crashed. So much so that I actually sat down in the Laughter Lounge at IA cause I was early for rehearsal – then accidentally passed out for like… 10 minutes.

But, the thing is, I really like times like that. Sometimes I love strolling in at dawn, sleeping until 1:30 in the afternoon (or getting up early even though you slept 3 hours so you can see sunlight). It makes me feel like a 22 year old… because more often than not, I feel anywhere from 13 to 97. I have awful bones… literally, awful.

I like spending time with really great people over sleeping enough to get me through a day. It’s the truth.

To make this post a little less end of a TV episode “moral of the story” – because my show is NOT ever and don’t you ever think that – here are some things to think about:

Matt and Dibello’s grad show is tonight and I’m really excited to see it. My grad show was one of the best experiences of my life. Sure, my improv was certainly not up to par… but the whole process of rehearsing and writing and stage blocking and having a professional-looking show that I created with some great people – it was awesome. I’d say best $1,500 of my life – but I didn’t pay for most of it (only paid $375.) But, it’s worth paying for anyway. Also – because of the House Teams – grad shows have gotten a lot better.

I don’t think Jimmy Fallon’s doing a good job – he’s totally awkward. But I still think he’s cute. Just for the record.

I bought $69 jeans for $15 the other day at TJ Maxx, and they’re awesome jeans. And if you saw how my face lit up when I discovered them and loved them… and if you heard me boast that they were “ONLY $15!”… then you’d know that I’m turning 100% into my mother. Frightening. And they’re 2 sizes smaller… double score for me.

And lastly, go fuck yourself New England.

SNICK

About 10 years ago (maybe) around this time, I would have been sitting in front of my TV watching the following:

i am not a mexican!

You may all know Roberto from my Facebook page. He has liked every single on of my statuses since Facebook gave him the option. I once signed onto Facebook and had 97 notifications. They were all from Roberto.

You may all know from my daily life that I am a fag hag. The gays love me, and I love them. And I love them for loving me and they love me for loving them. And we looooooove each other...

He's from El Salvador, but I choose to call him a Mexican. And he's owned up to it.

But he's also planned out my life. And I'm pretty OK with it.

can you become a big star and then take around everywhere you go so the paparazzi can take pics of us together and spread rumors
and nobdoy will know who I am
but they'll talk about me like this
"and Patty Barrett-E was seen again with that handsome young mexican lad she travels with... who might can he be"
and well hold hands and walk around hugging each other like were humping
but one day
we'll tell the media Im gay
and MORE tabloids will talk about us
"patty barrett-E and her mexican gay hubby were seen around again in cali. drinking champagne on the street... at 9 oclock in the morning

Oh, and he's learning French so he keeps adding an E to the end of my last name so my last name is "Barrette" and not "Barrett"

Whatever.

xoxo,
Barrette All

Boston Magazine seeking IA Actor

Richie Moriarty from IA was in Boston Magazine recently, which I found out through the Improv Asylum podcast. Richie's great. Here are the three greatest things about Richie Moriarty:

1. He gives audience members shit and makes fun of their names and their lack of hands without knowing they actually are missing hands.

2. He checks his Facebook statuses constantly, so when I update my Facebook status saying "I just got inappropriately groped at work", he can find out the story and angrily kick the guy out. He's got my back.

3. He's an entertaining tweeter. Tweeter?

But don't let that social networking cliche picture fool you, he's not looking for anyone. He has a wife.

Finger touch,
Patty Barrett

My Deep, Dark Secret

I Love Jimmy Fallon.

Yup. You heard me. Evan has seen the poster in my room of cut outs of nearly every magazine he's ever appeared in. I have a t-shirt. Although before this whole Late Night gig, he hasn't done a damn thing since SNL, or well "Fever Pitch" (which, yes, I stood outside of Fenway Park ALL NIGHT LONG on a cold April night in 2005 to get tickets to the premiere of that awful movie.)

Then, my friends, I got into comedy. And I hid the fact that I liked Jimmy because I didn't want my teacher (Professor Harry Gordon) to think I was only in that class because of my goal to be on SNL. (It was the reason. But it's definitely not anymore. I just love doing it.) In Level 2 I heard other people making fun of him... and I was like "Oh, shit son!" and then Jeremy made fun of him and I was like "DEFINITELY NO. I can't like this guy!!! He laughs at his own jokes!!! He's a DISGRACE to comedy!!!"

So, over the years, I've suppressed my love. And I totally get it, breaking on stage sucks. (Shut up Leather Gang)

But now, he's on Late Night. And to be quite frank, I love it and I STILL want to have sex with him. He looks adorable in a suit. The Roots were his band. The Conan bit was wonderful (probably because of Conan). I skipped over the game part because it embarrassed me. I loved Dinero parts... though he did talk about himself a whole lot. And Conan could do that and get away with it - because he's Conan and self-deprecating and it's great! But Jimmy clearly loves himself.

Um, and Justin Timberlake, yes. And Tina Fey tomorrow, double yes.

I wonder how long he'll get by on SNL references alone. (Though they make me melt... he's so retarded.)

I feel like this show was made specifically for me! If The Roots played "The Seed" while Tina Fey walked out tomorrow, I'd pass out.

My sister said:

That is so weird
Its like a show
made for you
and only you

Today our guest will be the Backstreet boys, Tina Fey, and Jeremy Brothers

That'll be the day. The day I die. From happiness.

So, there you have it. My deep, dark secret. I love Jimmy Fallon. He's incredibly stupid and this show will be terrible and I really miss Conan... but take it or leave it (and I'm sure you'll leave it) but I love Fallon.

THE LUCKIEST GAL IN ALL OF BOSTON

I have a gift. A gift I’m sure everyone is jealous of… it’s that I get hit on by the creepiest of men.

Whether it’s 2am outside a train station, 3pm walking through the city of Everett, 9pm while I’m working or even 8:30am in a Starbucks!

This morning, it was a snowy mess – as I’m sure all of you living in the area should know. I got a ride into work, and we stopped at Starbucks in Boston. I ran in to the nearly empty Starbucks, give or take a few college students and 3 very bored Baristas. As I was heading out the door I hear, “Miss! Excuse me, miss!” So, I turned around and headed to the guy. I don’t know what I expected… but:

“I like you a lot. You have nice legs. What’s your name sweetheart?”

And I simply responded with, “I can’t, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

When I headed out and ran to the car I was full of worry and shame.

I was worried that I hurt his feelings; though I probably didn’t.

I was ashamed at myself for being so rude. At the very least I could have said, “My name is Patty. I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

My running total for 2009 has been about… 13 creeps. I’ve been inappropriately groped by strangers (oh and friends, but if I added them to the mix, there’d be way too many to count), I’ve been nearly raped in a cab, I’ve been hollered at, and I’ve been asked to roll my window down while driving for a guy to tell me he wanted to be in me. And I can guarantee all of these guys are… not my type.

And every girl has this problem, because these type of guys think it’s OK and normal to do this to every girl. But I’m sure they know how to handle it. I handle it with awkwardness, smiles, often leading on, and then I feel guilty and feel as though I should sleep with them because I feel so bad for being rude.

Yeah... that's probably what I should do. I'm going back to Starbucks.


p.s. I LOVE GOOGLE.

Overheard this weekend...

There's something I will probably never learn: Keeping information about me to myself. I love attention, and that's no big secret whatsoever. I perform - and have throughout my entire life... so there's no way I am afraid of the spotlight. But, I also talk about myself a little too... openly.

But, I guess it's all right to talk to your good friends about what's happening in your life. What you've been up to, who you're humping, or who you just have a semi-giant, borderline creepy crush on. Right?

Well, maybe not.

Evan might tell people. Maybe people who know them personally. Maybe people who don't give a shit about you and could tell on you. MAYBE!

But oh well. I can't really blame him. Put a white Russian in his hand, and he sings the words of the world. And he was trying to help a sister out. I get it.

I guess I can't really blame people for telling things I tell them. How often do I hide what people tell me? Unless it's super serious, I get drunk off personal information. I love knowing people's shit - and telling other people who might find it remotely interesting. I don't do it to hurt people... I do it to have stuff to talk about. I've become the redheaded queen of gossip... well, besides Jeremy.

It's something I'm trying to control. But I know deep down, people love me for it. Totes loves.

Enough about other people! More about me! Highlights of my weekend:

- Sleeping
- Rehearsing (Kiley Fitzgerald hilarity)
- Filming a scene
- Accidentally napping on Casey's gross man bed
- Seeing my precious Julia
- Birthday lunch with Janine
- Watching Seriously Bent FINALLY win the title of #1 College Comedy troupe at Improv Boston's Beanpot!!!!