A decade of talking about feelings

Ten years ago, today, I was already up to my chin in what would be an absolutely life changing summer. I am known to throw around the hyperbole pretty loosey-goosey over here, but as I look back on my development into human-hood, the summer of 2004 stands out as a 1-UP-mushroom game changer for life.

It comes down to having the opportunity to invent myself. I had never really had the chance to be new anywhere where people cared. The person I was in high school was just a slightly taller version of the neurotic, precocious asshole third grader I had been, despite the fact that I now had boobs and a quickly developing dry wit. No one cared if I had become a better human, they all knew me and had written me off (except for my friends. You four are the best).

In New York, I had time to perfect the version of myself that I had been cultivating. But I was also busy cultivating keeping our electricity on and learning how to be a functioning roommate instead of a slobby asshole. The summer of 2004 was where all the practice of being a person paid off. I was not the best version but I was finally, a version of me that I liked more than any of the other previous iterations.  It was nice.

Also, let's be real, it was a summer of hedonism. Booze, pasta, lack of pants.  I subsisted off of alcohol and whatever other people would feed me, with the occasional peanut butter sandwich. I lived in a room with a girl who I delighted in despising. She was a fine person, but it was more fun to hate her and make drama (though, with that in mind, we got along great for two people who shared a 10'x4' cell that was only ever 100 degrees F). And it was a summer of shitty things too. Some not-nice things happened. There were so many tears, and not-nice words. But even those moments are tucked away with, "I am happy these happened, they made me a better version of me."

I learned that life should be lived, if for nothing else, "just for the story." Most of my favorite, best, oft-retold stories are from those brief and shining months free from responsibility and left to make choices that felt right in the moment. So I almost drove a car into a house, and made my friend do a shot of cooking oil, and poured hot wax on another friend's chest by accident.

I lived with people that, somehow, to this very day are in my top 10 of favorite people. I also lived with people who I have never seen since, and that is just as awesome. They came into my life for this one shining moment, with their kittens and their Mormonism and their ginger boyfriends.

It would have been totally different if I went to actual college, if I had four years of what I got all in one summer. I probably would not hold this summer up on quite such a large and sparkley pedestal, but I feel like I almost prefer it that way (which is good because our time machine is in the shop).

Since the end of May, I have been thinking about this post, and these memories. I have been reliving it with some of the cast of characters but mostly alone, enjoying reflecting on a time that feels so far away, and yet, not that long ago. I also am grateful/wistful/thoughtful that this all happened before facebook was even a twinkle in our eye. So the only picture I could find online of it is this one.

Which is pretty perfect (despite the fact that my shirt looks really weird). I am fairly sure I had no idea how that camera worked. It is only because of this turd nugget of a magnificent human being this even happened. Stupid Mikey Pits putting ideas in my head and instigating dumb shit like this.

While it is only in retrospect, I am always and forever (ie- never), tryna hang out.

Happy Teej Marrow Day!

Hey everyone, January 31 is a pretty special day around these parts.

Last year on January 31, my favorite crazy bitchface let some state-school educated doctor root around in her insides, take out her bone marrow, and then hop her up on "recovery" drugs.

Later, some other Doug Ross wanna-be put that bone marrow in a sick little boy. And with any luck, he is still doing okay (although even if he isn't, she gave him that many extra days for his parents to snuggle and love him).

All because T-Bone put a q-tip in her mouth.

This is your now-annual PSA that you can be as brave and strong as my favorite Ben's Chili Bowl companion. 

Take a minute out of your afternoon Facebook break and go to Be The Match to learn more about bone marrow donation. 

If you only spend today learning about it, and then an entire year screwing up the courage to do it - that's fine. People will need your bone marrow next year too. 

Learn a little about T's experience here, and read last year's Happy Teej Marrow post here. 

I love you, T - this is the only picture I have of us from 2013. I do not know which last pair I am referring to, but the tough-broad sentiment remains the same. Also, maybe in 2014, we can take pictures that aren't snap chats?

TYOE: New Orleans

All of my previous New Orleans experiences involved my numba one stunna T-Bone. She drove me around, introduced me to all the best food and people, didn't get to mad when I straight up stole said peoples' mardi gras beads in a drunken, kleptomania-fit.

Boyfriend and I have spent a lot of time sharing cities with each other this year. Except mostly, he's been sharing the cities of his childhood vacations with me - and now it was my turn to do some sharing. The problem was, I had had so much fun (read: to drink) and T had been such an amazing hostess, I could barely remember where things were or what they were called.

Luckily, she was able to drop the perfect amount of knowledge for a quick weekend trip.

If you're going to go to New Orleans and not have a car, you either have to resign yourself to many expensive cab rides, looooong trips on the trolley (and buses), tons of walking, or just staying right where you are (wherever that might be, which is probably the french quarter). Our trip included all of the above. We probably would have done a ton more walking, but late June in New Orleans is decidedly not walking weather.

Actually, to be totally honest, June in New Orleans is kind of miserable all around. I'm sure its better than August in New Orleans, but we spent most of the time feeling dizzy - unable to imbibe liquids in the quantity that we were sweating them out. I knew what the weather would be like going in, but it is made much worse by the lack of car. You find yourself outdoors much more often when you have to wait for cabs and buses. Lesson learned.

We did have fun. And we did exactly what we said we were going to - which was eat, drink, and relax without feeling the need to do anything.

What we did:

Walked around the important cemetary. For about 30 seconds. The dead were probably sweating too, and we didn't want to be around when their sweat mixed with our sweat and they reanimated.

The Nola Brewing Company all-you-can-drink-shit-show. I don't know if that's what they call it, but that is what it was. And as it happened immediately after Commander's Palace, we were a hot mess. What Nola Brewing Company Beer lacks in interesting flavor profiles it more than makes up for in giving out as much as you can drink in souvenier pint glasses.

A ghost tour. Boyfriend's one request. It was later in the evening, once the sun had set, which made it delightfully psydo-spooky and was a much cooler option than a mid-day tour of anything.

Sat by the pool. Mariott, your pool deck in New Orleans is gross. I will still sit there because I cannot resist a pool deck, dirty towels and empty beer cans be damed.

Walked around the French Quarter. Of course we did. We're tourists. We had fun buying art and trinkets but found ourselves quickly out of things to look at. You need about 2 hours to explore enough of the french quarter to feel satiated. Any more than that and you're wasting time.

What we ate:

Commanders Palace. Three martini lunch for.the.win. If you go to Commander's Palace for dinner you are doing it wrong.

Felix's. Our sweet friend Sunshine said it was one of her favorite places and it was still open at 11 p.m. and not too far from our hotel. They probably were not the best po'boys in the city, but they were exactly what we needed, which was fried food and mayonaise.

Ruby Slipper. We were in a bad way our first morning there, and Ruby Slipper made eggs, served them to us, and made us happy. It was not a game-changing brunch but it was pretty freaking amazing. And, for as close as it was to the french quarter, not too touristy (at least, I don't think so, I was hurting pretty bad and not up to my usual quota of people watching).

Central Grocery. Touristy? Sorry. I am Not Sorry. I would eat a muffaleta from here every day if I could get away with it. Gimme all your olive tapenade. Now.

Boucherie. TBone took me here the last time I visited her and I was itching to go back. We messed up on getting a reservation and terrified that they might not seat us, I made Boyfriend get there half an hour early to make sure we were the first people in the door. He was not happy about this, because it required us standing outside with no greater purpose than looking pathetic so we would be allowed in to eat. Consider it worth it. We tried to eat outside our comfort zone, which was fun and delicious. But really, the reason for the season was the Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding. I wanted six orders for me. And then I wanted to eat the rest of Boyfriend's order.

Cochon Butcher. We got these sandwiches and then walked around in the hot, hot nola sun for another three hours before we ate them and they were still crazy delicious. I can only imagine how amazing they would be if they didn't have to swelter before being eaten.

New Orleans Original Daquiris. Okay, not food, but so delicious and untouristy. Worth venturing beyond the french quarter if you are feeling so bold.

Creole Creamery. Dear New Orleans: it should not take a trolley, a bus and a 10 minute walk to find some ice cream. Seriously, you are a million degrees at 9:30 at night. There should be ice cream on every street corner. Work on this. That being said - if this is going to be your only ice cream, way to knock it out of the park. A perfect cold good-bye to a hot, hot weekend.

teej bone marrow

T-Bone got half a blog post back in August celebrating what an amazing and life charging friend she has been (that was supposed to be life changing but my phone autocorrected it to charging and I have to agree. She tied a turbo booster to my 19 year-old social self and stepped on the gas) - but it didn't even mention what a crazy-awesome human being she is in the grand scheme of the entire world.

Today (on what will now be known as T-bone day), she donated bone marrow so that a little boy she has never met will get a second chance at a full, happy, healthy life. She was his 1 UP, his little green mushroom, his 100 coins.

I like to think that when put in the same position any number of people I know would do the exact same thing. My late teens-early 20's were full of self-serving assbuckets, but as I round the bend towards social security, I surround myself with do-gooders and well-wishers and people who write thank you notes and call you when they say they're going to call.

But here's the thing, none of them have given up parts of their insides. No one I know is even in the bone marrow registry (and if you are, let a sister know so I can sing your praises too). I know I'm not. Here's why: I am terrified. Straight scared shitless that my number will come up and it'll be my turn to be the bravest little toaster.

Boyfriend and I have been talking about giving blood for a couple months now and we manage to keep putting it off. Every time the opportunity arises we manage to be busy. One of us is working out for the first time in 3 months (him) or suddenly feels like they really need to focus on the job hunt (me). We cannot even manage to get over our fear of needles enough to do this very basic thing that most people I know have done a bazillion times. My brother practically majored in it.

So the idea of having a surgery, a real honest to god, under the knife surgery is about an ocean away from my comfort level.

And yet T-bone did it. Like it ain't no thang. I am knocked on my ass by how selfless and inspiring she has been. She wins at T-bone Day.

Thursday's Best Internet Finds! Stalker Edition

I spend far too much time on the internet. We could go into the why of this - but you're not my therapist, blog reader, and if you were - we would have waaaaay more important things on our metaphorical plate.

In my decade and a half of time spent in the internet tubes I have uncovered a lot of really amazing things and discovered some super cool people. Here's the weird thing - the people I've discovered, don't know I exist.

Its one thing to follow people who are asking for a following (Dear Baby Blog, I am looking in your direction). But there are others who have a super awesome thing going, but are not quite internet celebrities or are celebrities with personal blogs that don't get the same type of attention.

Internet stalking, yo. Don't knock it til you try it.

But today I am taking off the creepy black ski mask and letting my freak flag fly free.

Here are three of my favorites:

Army Pants and Flip Flops. This one is kind of cheating because this girl and I kinda-sorta travel in the same circles. I wouldn't know her if I saw her on the street, but my brother, my mom and probably my sister would - so...there's that. Anywhoodles, she is getting married to your Grade A type Army dude and so of course (because it wouldn't be a romantic comedy any other way) she is your standard Renn Fair loving theater geek. And he's deployed to Afghanistan. And there is a wedding to plan. And she's just trying to figure this ish out. The internet is a great place to get your Ish together. She makes me giggle out loud sometimes and she won Boyfriend's heart by confirming that you can in fact make a wedding registry on Amazon.com (not that Boyfriend is looking to register for Aneee.thing. He just really, really loves Amazon).

The Enjoy Project. Okay - Kristin is pretty darn close to famous. She has a business taking amazing pictures and so she probably racks up the hit counts. I found this blog through T-bone's wedding photographer Lydia Jane (check out T-bone's wedding! Lydia is ah.mazing) who is good friends with this Kristin, who (because Maryland is very, very small) photographed the weddings and engagements of some people I know from high school. Kristin's blog really caught my attention when she started blogging about how she met her (spoiler-alert) now husband. She and I operate on different wavelengths, but it is interesting to watch someone deal with doubt and fear and figuring it out because it makes you feel better about your own doubt and fear and challenges in figuring it out.

Please Note: I did not PLAN for this to be a TBIF all about shmoopy love business. I am not breaking away from my she-man-man-hating club. But I cannot be held responsible for the fact that girls who are increadibly talented and captivating writers tend to get boys all hot and bothered (I mean, duh, Boyfriend, case.in.point).

Dancing Brave. Heather is famous. Sups famous. I was obsessed with Heather back in 2002 when she was recapping for TWoP and had a sweet diaryland blog (guys - Diaryland was the real deal back in '03). Its weird to think that she was younger then than I am now. All making bad choices and being awesome. I thought she was so cool. I still do because she runs Go Fug Yourself (which I will proudly say, I've been reading since Day 1). But she also has a personal blog where she talks about raising twins (!!), and her love for all things Notre Dame (shake down the thunder, everyone). It is fun to see the dichotomy between her glamorous Fashion Week writing and her kids-at-home-how-we-do writing.

The internet is full of funny, smart ladies. The End.

the wonder friends

Today has kind of been the BIGGEST day for many, many reasons.

This blog is only going to talk about two of them.

Specifically these two.

They aren't friends anymore. But in honor of the fact that they are both 30! YEARS! OLD! on this Monday, they get a joint post. Sorry ladies, its Monday night, and I am drunk on red wine and tuna melts, I only have one blog post in me.

Once upon a time, I was 19 and I had no idea what was going on. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew who I had been since the age of 6. I couldn't shake off 3rd grade memories no matter how hard I tried to redefine myself. And then I moved to New York, where I could have redefined myself if anyone had given a shit. Which, surprise, surprise, no one really did.

And then! I got to move to a small little cesspool of insanity (known as summer stock theater) where no one knew my business, and I got to be whichever version of myself I wanted to be. I managed to spin the wheel and land on a version of myself that seemed to attract some really great people.

And thus began, 8 years ago, the silliest summer of my life. I try not to dwell too long on the past, but the summer of 2004 will always be ingrained as the best, worst summer of all time. As I reminisced about it today:

"...we made some really astoundingly bad choices. And we only ever had enough money for booze. And we kissed boys who made us cry. And we had the literal definition of dead-end jobs. And we ate week-old crabs. And yet we were still the happiest of girls..."

And these two amazing women, who have pretty much knocked life out of the ball park in the past 8 years in their own ways, were the two people who bought my new personality, hook, line and sinker and wanted to keep me around - even after the dream summer ended, and I went back to my real life, 15 pounds heavier and so much more aware of the kind of person I wanted to be as a twenty-something.

These girls taught me that its acceptable to do things just for the story. To write it all down. To get your heart temporarily broken for a night of fun. To play the "let me tell you about yourself" game. They taught me that people will love you even when you pour candle wax on their chests. And almost drive their cars into a clothes line. That its okay to be made fun of when you deserve it. And its okay to cry when it all gets to be too much.

When I first met these two girls, they were fresh-faced college graduates and I idolized them. I could not believe that these two people who seemed so much cooler and more grown-up than me wanted to be my friend. And even though I have never had an iota of true self-confidence, they made me feel like I was an awesome, hilarious person. They are both also awesome and hilarious.

So thank you. Thank you for 8 amazing years of self-discovery and debauchery.  Happy 30th Birthday!

dressy dresses - UPDATED

My lovely friend T-bone is getting married in June, and she very sweetly asked me to stand up for her.

I am excited to get to share this day with her for a butt load of reasons, and one of them was - I like the opportunity to buy a new dress.

I know that most girls have horror stories about having to purchase bridesmaids dresses - and I totally empathize with them - its a crappy scene.  I seriously (seriously) do not understand why David's Bridal insists on making their dresses different than normal people dresses.  If I wear a four or a six in Every Single Other Brand then Why (oh Why) do I wear an eight at the DB?  It basically just complicates things and ruins people's lives.  And most of what you find is just boring.

T-bone and my bestie Beans (who got married two Septembers ago) have both been amazing about bridesmaid dresses.  Some vague ideas about what they want but in general fairly low key and just wanting their bridesmaids to be comfortable and feel good.

Anyway, in looking for a dress for T's wedding I came across this amazing website - LaRoux's Closet.  I bought my bridesmaid's dress AND my rehearsal dinner dress (both of which I will probably wear a zillion times before they wear out) and in total (including shipping) it cost $80, for both!  They are both pretty casual - but the bride loves them, and so do I.  Win. Win.

LaRoux's deal is they want to give you a good deal - and I think that's awesome.  I think that deserves a sweet blog plug and so here it is.  I wish I had bought a few more things but I am hoping that they'll be around for awhile.

AND AND AND as if this bomb ass website could get any better - I have a referral code, which means if you decide to order stuff drop the code "rgrandi" at check out and I'll get LaRoux cash to buy more adorable things.  E'rrrebody Wins!

Anyway - blogs about my epic devastation at the bears loss to come later.

No-book Update (Hyperlink-tastic!)

So, tomorrow is the end of the blogging challenge. I don't know how Anniebelle feels, but I feel like while I did not achieve my goal - I came far closer than I thought I would. This was a weird time slot to try this little game. Between moving and vacation these 30 days have been pretty insanely full and not particularly blog-worthy. I posted 23 times in 30 days (some of those were duplicates, so we're just going to count them as extra credit). That's a standard Rachel score.

Anyway - I am getting more in tune with my blogging muses and am enjoying getting into a blogging habit (which tends to be think about what to blog about all day and then write it at night, although there have been some midday blogs when I'm afraid I'll get distracted and forget what I want to write about). So I am extending the challenge to Anniebelle once again - another 30 days. Winner takes all. Pow! You in?

Also in these past 30 days I have not once logged into my facebook. And, while I know this is probably disappointing to some out there - I totally miss it. No less than 5 times have I missed out or almost missed out on things because people facebook invited me and didn't remember (or remembered at the last second) that I wasn't checking it. I miss pictures. I know there are new pictures up of me (I have sneaked a peak when other people have been on the book - I am only human, people) and new wall posts and while I haven't read any of them yet (my willpower is growing) I want to.

I also don't know if things are happening. Like weddings and engagements and babies, mostly. But also birthdays and new jobs and new adventures. My friend, LS, went to Paris a week ago and I texted her a few days after the trip to find out how it was, and then realized it was possible that she was engaged now and I had no idea (luckily, she wasn't). Facebook is the communication tool of the present/future. And I miss it.

And what have I done with my time these past few weeks? Well, I would say I got marginally more work done than I had in the past, which has been good. But mostly I've just found other things to read. Anniebelle turned me onto Dear Baby which is an adorable blog that will speed your biological clock up to warp speed (although you realize after awhile that you only want a baby right now if you get Her baby and Her life to go with it - do not worry Dear Baby Blogger - I am not planning to steal your life/baby).

I also spend an absurd amount of time on Texts From Last Night (always funny, always. But worrisome, as these are the voices of our future), Awkward Family Photos, Go Fug Yourself, This is Why Your Fat and any of the other blogs along T-bone's side bar.

I've wikipediaed a fair amount, which doesn't really count because I did that even when I was on facebook. I love wikipedia so hard. Recent wikipedia reads have included: Supernumerary body parts, Foie Gras, and List of Aircraft Hijackings

And mostly I have stalked the crap out of people. I have read archives of peoples' blogs (some are people I like, some are people I know, and some are people who just write well/have interesting lives), I've googled people (could you imagine that if, 13 years after the fact, when you were googled, your wedding announcement to your now-ex husband was the first thing to come up? I'd be pissed).

And as for those hours away from the computer? Well, those aren't materializing quite how they should, but its been cold and rainy outside which hasn't helped. Again, I am a victim of timing.

So the blogging will continue and once its gets pretty (if it gets pretty before Easter) I will go play outside. But also, I am stalking you, so get cool with it.

For Tierra

My T-bone has had a rough weekend, so this post is dedicated to her. Meet the Chicago Hot Dog:



This picture does not to it justice, but for a really sick, exhausted girl this was the best lunch in the world from the super awesome Hot Dog joint down the street.

A Chicago Style Hot Dog comes with

Beef dog
Poppyseed bun
tons of Mustard
tons of bright green relish (it's alien relish, I've never seen pickles this neon before)
lettuce
chopped raw onions
cucumber
tomato
pickles (yes, Pickles AND Relish)
hot peppers
celery salt

It's so big you cannot get it all into your mouth (...that's what she said) and it is life changing. It's calling to you Tierra...it will never break your soul. Not even a little bit.

copycat

I just found this as a comment on Tierra's blog. Not all of it refers directly to me. But it makes a lot of sense. And just reading it over a few times made me feel a little more okay about Everything. So Maurice, if I ever meet you on the non-internets. I owe you a frosty/warm beverage of your choosing.

His Reply to Tierra (originals to be found here)

Now, I know I don't have to tell you this, but.....


You are not broken.


You hate your job. You're also in your mid 20s. If you loved your job, and it paid the bills, I would say you need to do whatever it is until you die, or retire. As it stands now, you still have plenty of time to find that type of job.


You hate the city you live in. As do I. I am moving in a week. You will probably be gone (or have to option to be gone) in about 6 months. It could be worse. At least you have a city elsewhere to call home, that you actually like. What if you were actually FROM New Orleans, and hated it? You'd probably be lost.

I ran as far from Philly and the DC area as I could most of this year, and most of the past 8 years, until finally realizing going home was inevitable, and I should try to make the best of it, and maybe even embrace it. Not saying you should have to like New Orleans, or embrace it, but, you should try to make the best of it.


You are childless. I'm guessing you prefer it that way, for now at least. You are probably fretting more that you will never find anyone who wants to raise kids with you. That's a better problem to have than actually having unplanned kids with someone who doesn't want to raise them with you, or who is terrible at it.


You're single. There could be a million reasons as to why this is. Unless they are changeable or alterable things, I wouldn't worry about them. I'm single. There are changeable reasons for this I am or planning on working on. There are reasons beyond my control, that I have long since stopped giving much thought to. And I'm a worrying-type, by nature (one of those things I'm working on). Forcing change is not a good idea either. Forced change is unhappy change, and unhappy change leads to unhappy relationships.


Basically, we are at an age where we can afford to work these problems out, and where half of us are still doing just that. (I know for some it seems like everyone you know is married and successful. Not really, it's just that those that aren't tend not to be on our envy radar, because that's not where we want to be.)


It's ok. This is the internet, you're supposed to vent here. :)



---

I like it when people tell me its Going To Be Okay. And I can almost believe them.

Summertime Chi (now throw your hands up in the sky)

So Tierra came and visited for five glorious days last week as part of her massive road trip and while my liver, checkbook, and BMI are probably secretly glad that she's gone, the rest of me absolutely loved having her here and wishes she would stay forever. I sometimes forget how amazing Chicago is in the summer. I'm so busy working and performing and running around that I never stop to be like, "damn, B. This is kind of the life."

While Tierra was here we went to my very first Wrigley field baseball game (which may also be my very first MLB stadium game - except of course for the one when I got kidnapped, but that was just batting practice so it doesn't count). I've decided that game and the Chicago Fire game this weekend, that I love live sports. The whole sports thing is still kind of new and bizarre (1 year of caring v. 22 years of not caring = big difference).

Also - I would like to point out that I'm fairly sure this was my first live men's professional game and it SUCKED where as ALL of the US women's games I've been to (both World Cup and otherwise in DC) have been amazing.

I also hung out with some random people while Tierra was here, because we pretty much hung out with whomever was around and all of them were so warm and welcoming which made me so happy - I've managed to make friends with some grade A midwesterners.

Tierra also got to see me perform both long and short form improv and got to see some great sketch comedy (as well as a decent harold). This is such a huge part of my life now. And she's the first one who's come out and actually seen it all go down. She seemed to love it.

I noticed while she was here that boys LOVED her. There were no nights that went by without some guy walking up to us and telling her that she is gorgeous. While, everyone loves a self esteem boost for themselves - I think I almost loved it more for her (I have plenty of problems with boys without complete strangers walking up to me-- also she's got that exotic halfrican thing going on).

So - the moral? Come to Chicago. While its gorgeous and summer-y. Not when its sucky and grey. Meet my amazing friends. See me be funny/an asshole on stage. Experience why I think that this city might be for keeps (at least for a few more years).