I'm going to this tomorrow night for work. Slippy is going with me.
Even though he's abusive.
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Even though he's abusive.
Ed: I feel like Ms Stockard Channing in Six Degrees of Separation right now.
Me: Why?
Ed: There's a scene in the movie where she walks out of this Park Ave dinner party because she is fed up with her husband/life and the camera follows her down Park Ave and she is dressed to the nines (as I am today) and the music is some German classical composer and she jumps up and touches this tree. She has no real reason to be happy but she is and that's exactly how I feel right now.
]]>1: Someone needs to put that marsupial back into reality.
2: Crayfish.
1: Hahaha. GOOD ONE.
I am a guest on the show Worst Laid Plans this Friday at UCB.
This is a response I got from my friend Mike to the email I sent out to my pals telling them about the show:
I'll totally be there! I'm sorry to hear you've had
unfavorable sexual experiences, but in a way it's your
fault for not planning it on a calendar like I do.
Well, I should run as I am a busy guy! I have to eat
a banana within the hour and then discard any pens in
my household that I suspect might have a low ink
supply.-Mike
Pretty amazing. So anyway... If you'd like to see the show and you aren't a sick internet person who's going to use the fact that I've decided to intimate a comedic tale of shitty sex to a crowd of people against me, please make a reservation here.
This weekend felt long, but in a good way. I woke up early Saturday and Sunday to pack in as much as possible, and luckily there's a few things crossed off my list for this week.
Friday night I got margaritas with Matt and Lindy and we worked on our show while I got very drunk very quickly. I didn't even mean to get drunk, but when I was exactly two margaritas deep I started getting giggly and kind of sloppy. Casey Wilson talked about what happens after two "margaroos" on her Funny or Die blog and Matty and Lindy were two of the friends mentioned in her story. They have passed down to me the true power of margaroos... Seriously, don't have that third 'roo. By the time I got home at 9, I was completely plastered. I was passed out by 10.
Saturday morning I woke up to film a sketch for Channel 101 with Kendall. We did bit parts for my friend Jim's sketch series "Making Mistakes". After that we came back to my house and filled up a couple hours with hula hooping, fetch with Wagandstuff and filming. Kendall and I did a Steve Aoki/Cory Kennedy bit for the Monday To Do List. Granted, they are both kind of obscure for the mainstream population, but I hope it is funny to people who don't even know who they are. After that I had improv followed by a night out on the town.
This morning I started the day with the news that I had been selected to perform in Worst Laid Plans this coming Friday at UCB. I am SO excited to be doing the show and although I normally would blush at the subject matter (I can be surprisingly prudish about certain types of sex talk. It's the former Catholic in me...), I've seen this show before and laughed the whole way through. Obviously I would want to be a part of that. I also started my new improv class today. The class actually started last week, but I had to miss it due to the MTV Movie Awards. My class is HUGE but I'm pretty blown away by how talented everyone is, the ladies in particular. Ever since I got back I've been catching up with phone calls and making videos for the week...
Now I'm going to go pass out and do the whole "work week" thing all over again...
I just wanted to note that if you send me a Facebook request and I don't know you offline, then I probably am not going to accept, so please please please don't take it personally. Up until now I've been accepting anyone who asked, because most of them were friends of friends or whatever, but now it's just getting out of control and I no longer recognize the people on my friends list anymore... which maybe kinda defeats the purpose of Facebook?
I'm sorry. I hope no one thinks that's rude, but I'd just prefer to keep Facebook for my "real life" friends. Feel free to add me on MySpace though... and if you wrote me an email and I haven't gotten back to you yet, pretty please hang in there and don't tell your friends that you think I'm a bitch. I promise I'm not, I'm just overwhelmed with emails and (GOD FORBID) things off of the internet.
Sorry and thanks.
Today I was responding to random reader emails and this nice girl emailed me about the dress I made a couple weeks ago.
After I replied, she wrote back with the following line. It made me smile big time:
Also, this is probs creepy/TMI, but sometimes when I am watching shitty television in my pajamas/thinking about the girls my ex-boyfriend is nailing, I look at pictures of Wagandstuff and it cheers me up, for reals.
Real cute, right?
If it's any consolation, your ex-boyfriend is probably a fucking asshole.
I can't take credit for the original notion of the "Comfortable Girl", it was something that was relayed to my by my friend Lindy and originally it came from one of her friends in New York or something, but it's an idea that's been all up in my brain lately and I'd like to put out there my thoughts on this matter.
A Comfortable Girl is basically that girl you know who is super comfortable in her skin in a way that most people you meet just aren't. We all know different kinds of Comfortable Girls, but their MO is more or less the same. They live with their boyfriend of six years in Santa Monica and have no plans of getting married, but this doesn't strike any fear in them. They are just happy being with their partner. They carry a big ass tub of tea tree balm in their purse and apply it frequently and liberally regardless of the situation they are in. In fact, their purse isn't a purse, it's a big ol' sack, and not in a Birkin sense, in a "free NPR tote" kind of way. They may have a personalized Moleskin their college roommate gave them "years ago" that they keep interesting articles about whales and dog parks in stuffed in the bag. There's probably also a Tupperware container of homemade tabbouleh in there that they will pull out and eat in line at the bank.
Comfortable Girls aren't high matenence in any sense, but they always look pretty because they have mastered the art of the stress-free glow. They can confidently accept a compliment and they are unaware of the insecurity this strikes in the other females around them. They are typically physically fit, and this could be because they are down to strike a yoga pose at any point. In fact, some of the most comfortable girls can manage to pull off a yoga outfit as actual clothing and not something you purchased to sweat into.
I'm not bashing these girls, I am in awe of them. To be able to walk through life without any visible neurosis is a skill that I will never be able to acquire. I am a 24 year old chick who uses wrinkle cream because I need it, OK? But I'm keeping it interesting with all my crazy bullshit, and the same goes for all the people I love the most and keep the closest to me. These Comfortable Girls are just spiritually in the Downward Dog position, they have no idea they are a threat to your average basketcase. Next time you're talking to one of these girls and you catch a whiff of their freshly baby shampoo-washed and air-dryed hair, think of what I just relayed to you and relax knowing that you're hip to their game.
Kendall needed headshots today for an audition tonight, so I took em for her. We can't decide which we like better: