Hey!

I don't like getting tricked.
I don't like being two steps behind.
I don't like knowing things last.

I don't like trusting people I don't know.
I don't like having to rely on my own judgment.
I don't like leaving things up to chance.

And yet -

Here I am letting all that happen because I'm trying to not be me for awhile.

It's hard.
And it sucks.

But it makes me kind of happy.

pondering.

"Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves."

With nothing good on TV right now, I'm going through and watching old Grey's Anatomy episodes. That was part of Meridith's voice over in one season 2 episode. I spent most of the time when I was watching this in real time ignoring the voice overs because Ellen Pompeo's voice gives me a headache. But I heard that today, and it made things a little bit clearer.

I look at the quote and I have to kind of shrug. Because its true, and I can't figure out how to stop it.

I *heart* Wisconsin

Things I experienced this weekend for the first time.

-Mar's Cheese Castle (unfortunately not a castle made of cheese).

-Cheese curds, regular (disgusting).

-Wisconsin Cheddar Grilled Cheese in Wisconsin, where the cheese is so gooey you get a cheese puddle.

-Donkey Balls.

-A Brat.

-A Pontoon Boat.

-Sturgeon Bay.

-A Fish Boil.

-$1 Beers (what? I didn't go to real college).

-The game of shoulders.

-Leinenkugel Summer Shandy (tastes like lemonade!)

-Door County Cherries (in ice cream, pie and cookies)

-Berry Wines (not a fan)

-Cheese curds, fried (amazing).

-A Tom Collins (although apparently when made with grenadine its fake)

-McDonald's Country Chicken Biscuit (embarrassingly delicious).

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).

Makes Sense.

"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What's that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first; get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating

...and you finish off as an orgasm."

-George Carlin.

drugs. the no-baby-making-kind.

So I switched birth control pills recently (yeah, that's right - we're gonna get real personal right about now). My old one was playing a huge part in the disaster that was my face and at the age of 23 I think I'm old enough to make medical choices based on vanity.

So I decided to switch. My NP is nervous because this new one has diuretic qualities as does another medication I'm on. And the two diuretics combined apparently will give me a potassium deficiency. I don't really understand the mechanics of it. But these people went to school for about 80 years, so I'll trust them.

For the first month, the pill seemed to be working great. There were no babies (which, um, let's leave that part of the equation alone for now). I switched right around the time I started my new job and was told by my mother that I might have an insulin deficiency of some sort (my mother did NOT go to school for 80 years, but she did go for eight, so I trust her medical opinion). This maybe the cause of my recent weight gain and so I've decided to go really healthy (fresh fruits and veggies! vegetarian! (except for pork and Nonna's meat sauce) 100 Calorie Snack Packs!)

I also now have week days off with the new job and instead of lounging around and watching West Wing DVD's I've been working hard at keeping my days off busy. Writing, going to the gym, productive shopping, rearranging furniture etc.

So here is this me that is kind of different from the me of about 3 months ago. I am not really thinking about it until I talk to a friend of mine last night about birth control (this conversation was naturally brought on by the news/gossip that yet another girl from our High School class is up the spout). I mentioned my new pill and she said that it had made her slightly loopy. Then I thought about it for a minute and realized...

I'm pretty sure there are uppers in my birth control.

First of all, I'm hungry. All the time. I equated this with suddenly being on my feet for 8 hours a day but seriously, I find myself constantly eating. While normally uppers don't give you this (hence why they are diet pills) I think its the combination of the estro-whatever and the crack that literally mean I eat for eight straight hours if I let myself. I'm being good about eating grapes and whole wheat sandwichs and trying to keep my caloric intake around 1000 calories a day, but still - your body cannot digest food if you don't stop chewing.

Second- This productive behavior is not like me at all. I mean sure, I get stuff done, but I get it done at the last second, if there isn't anything good on TV. Recently I've taken to cleaning the bathroom without being asked and without there being actual organisms growing in it, I've started going to the gym for 90 minutes to two hours if given the opportunity and actually spending that time working out instead of just sitting around on a yoga mat listening to my ipod. I do laundry before I run out of underwear. I'm redecorating my apartment and making grown up purchases like couches and bowls (although, in my old-self's defense, the bowls are too small to be practical and polka dotted). My room is organized. I'm cooking for myself instead of eating things out of a black plastic dish. Also, the fact that I am even CONSIDERING giving up chicken nuggets, is - to me, kind of crazy. I mean, I laugh at vegatarians, and people who run on tredmills, and own plates. Since when have I become one of those people?

Obviously, it is because my birth control pill is full of crack.

A Story in Pictures

Once Upon a Time a Girl in a Scarf and her sister went to a museum.


They explored the exhibits and found that most of them were pretty lame (in the Museum's defense, they didn't look very hard). And then they found the baby chick exhibit!! Their Mom thought it was hilarious that they wanted to spend all day watching baby chicks hatch because they grew up in a place that looks like this:



But they were in it to win it. And they noticed one egg that looked like it was getting ready to hatch!


So they waited patiently as pieces of the shell began to chip away. Minutes passed and they couldn't believe how long it was taking. Their Mom voiced her annoyance that this is how they were spending their day but the Girl in the Scarf was not going anywhere. As the chick chipped away at the egg, the Girl in the Scarf looked at all of the information about the chick and learned that chicks have a special tooth that they use to get out of the egg and then it falls out after they're in the world.

Then the girl got philosophical, as she tends to do when she's waiting around for things to happen. Can you imagine having to work this hard to get out into the world? When humans are born its the mother that does all the work, but the chick is all alone and there is nothing to stop it from just giving up, from waiting until its so big that the egg just breaks around it. Of course, by that point the chick will probably have died from starvation but still... how hard it must be to not even know the world you're trying so desperately to become a part of. And then finally! The chick hatched!!!



It was really, really ugly and scary looking, which, to be fair, we all kind of are when we come out of such a cramped place. The chick just lay there for awhile learning how to breath all this new oxygen it had suddenly come in contact with. The chick was so very tired, it had just cracked its own egg, it knew it had to, it knew that even though it didn't know our world that it wanted to be a part of it. The Girl in the Scarf pitied the little chick. It had worked so hard and now it had its whole life ahead of it, to keep working hard and surviving. The Girl in the Scarf watched it for awhile, as all of the other museum patrons jostled around her. The Girl in the Scarf was wondering if maybe now, she was just being born. She was ugly and unfortunate, but she had spent so long working so hard and was finally just beginning her life.

Shmupdate

So I have a new job. My new job is very awesome except it hurts my brain with all the learning and its kind of a low-rung on the food chain job. It feels a little like back pedaling. But there are huge benefits to it, one being days off during the week. I had acclimated to having Saturdays and Sundays off, which I will have occasionally but mostly I'll have things like Thursdays off. Which means I'll get real work done. Like writing and laundry and hanging out at the beach when there aren't people there.

I get to go to the East Coast next week! I'm so excited! I'll hit MD, NYC, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Philly?! Who knows...It'll be so nice to be home.

I have a theory...Its a boys and girls and relationship theory. I have to work through it a little bit more before posting it on the internet.

Don't read this Tierra.

So apparently,

We're all gonna die.

So much about this freaks me out.

Number 1 - 13 year old Germans do better math than NASA. That's just embarrassing.

Number 2 - I have MAYBE 27 years left. I'm just glad I'm not waiting to quit my job...

Number 3 - I'm really glad I watched Deep Impact 4,000 times because I am now prepared to deal with this kind of disaster.

101 in 1001 update.

So, if any of you have been paying attention at. all. you would know that my 1001 days were up on March 18. I was super unsure with what do about this, considering I had barely finished half of it, but C decided that since right in the middle of the 1001 days I had picked up my entire life and moved it to a new time zone I deserved a 6-month extension. Mostly because during those 6 months I wasn't so much worried about the list as I was surviving in a brand new place where I knew no one. So now my expiration date is September 18, 2008. Which seems far off, but isn't really. I have 48 things left on the list. Here's what I've accomplished since LAST March (yeah, I've been bad w. the updating):

12. Go to at least three concerts - I go to concerts all the time. I do heart Live Music.

22. Stand up to a guy and tell him how it is (I did this once, but I think I need practice) - When I put this on the list I should have specified that it be a sober confrontation, but lets be real - that will never happen. It has happened drunk a few times. I'm getting pretty good at it.

53. Get an internship at a theatre company - The iO Chicago kind of owns my soul. In a good way.

Wow. 3. Okay, that's kind of pathetic. Here are some highlights of what I have left:

3. Have a healthy romantic relationship that lasts a substantial amount of time (at least a month) - This is kind of hilarious for many reasons. Mostly because defining "healthy" is a tricky, tricky little game. I think that I could probably cross this one off the list... but we'll wait and see if I end up with anything a little more "healthy" by the end of the summer.

51. Go to South Africa again - Okay. Kind of a pipe dream. But I like where my head was at when I did this.

56. Use that gift certificate for free dinner for 4 for that Italian restaurant in Bethesda - The fact that I haven't done this yet is BONKERS. I've had that thing for over 5 years. The restaurant is going to close before I use it. Next time I'm home for a few days (so...Christmas?)

84. Go to Gillette Castle, we went when I was little but I don’t have a visual memory of it. - This is soooo happening this summer. It should be happening in like a month, but the place doesn't open until Memorial Day. WEAK. So somehow- around the time we're going to Nantucket...this is getting done.

93. See every Oscar Best Movie nominee in a year (before the awards show) - Sadly, this won't happen...ever. I am not nearly as into movies as I like to pretend I am. Also, I'm poor.

only in my dreams

So, its gorgeous outside. I've been inside all day doing the work that will, with any and all luck will put me on the cover of "In Style" someday. All I want to do is go out and play, but nope. Its work time.

Anyway, my phone rings. Its a Maryland number that I don't recognize but I answer it anyway because I don't learn from my mistakes. Here is the conversation.

RACHEL: Hello?
VOICE: I just wanted to let you know, the chocolate covered strawberries are in the fridge.

RACHEL'S INNER MONOLOGUE: I don't know who this is or where they are, but they have chocolate covered strawberries so they are automatically my best friend.

RACHEL: (pause) Who is this?
VOICE: Is this Pattie?

RACHEL'S INNER MONOLOGUE: Say yes! Say yes! Obviously this Pattie person has the hook up with the chocolate and the strawberries and all you have is a half written - unfunny sketch.

RACHEL: (pause) No...
VOICE: Oh, I'm sorry.
click
RACHEL: But I'll still take the strawberries? Hello?

Once again, I make terrible life choices that deny me fruit and chocolate.

Princess Madness

I dropped to 4th in my pool where I was reigning as Princess Picks-Amazing for a week and a half. This is, of course, being blamed on Tennessee and Davidson equally, except Tennessee a little more equally because I had them going to the finals.

Here's the thing, I don't mind being in 4th place because the three people in front of me did research and analyzed statistics and watched more than 3 games this season. I? Guessed. And picked my favorites. Something that I'm sure was irking the shit out of the boys while I was on top. And when it comes down to it, I've picked more winners than anyone else, I just haven't earned more points. So, in some distant world, I kind of am winning-- except not really.

I love this being-one-of-the-guys madness. When this big heap of boy friends kind of fell in our lap we were excited, then people started making out and things got messy and now things have leveled out again and we're left with boys to watch sports with and boys who care about things like photography and good movies...which is pretty fantastic...

particularly when you're beating 13 of them in a basketball pool.

Go UCLA. Do not fall victim to Memphis's crazy crazy skills.

File this under: Things I Hate.

I hate making choices.

Seriously, it starts small, with not being able to decide what I want for lunch and spirals into not being able to make big choices. The life changing ones.

I just feel like when I look back over my life, so many of my choices feel like the wrong one, at what point does someone be like, "yeah, no. You don't get to make choices anymore. We're going to bring in a life coach and they're going to do it all for you now."

Once that happens I feel everything will be back on track or at least, I'll have someone else to blame when it all goes wrong.

Here's the deal people:

Do I:

a- Get a full time job working for a company that I'm passionate about that will give me lots of office experience, that will be 40 hours with benefits and company picnics that will require me to give up the auditions and the Big News and the fun trips to random places with Barb and possibly Nantucket?

b- Temp/get a part time job I don't care about. Take the paycut (like a man). Enjoy the fact that I'm 23 w. a savings account and spend the summer at the beach, with my friends, writing novels, performing, hanging out at the democratic national convention? Live the life of a pauper who likes to party.

Seriously people, I cannot decide. I seriously want the universe to make the choice for me and I don't know how to make that happen. I've decided I'm no longer applying to companies I don't care about for full time jobs. Its arts admin or non-profit all the way.

Anyway. That's it. I'm going to sit in this fancy car wash and watch my boss's Range Rover get all sparkley clean and try to figure out what to do... or I'm going to read the Fiction story in the New Yorker.

I can't decide.

poetry makes me less crazy

This was originally posted in the Frederick News Post online edition and I'm really ridiculously proud of it, so I'm posting it here.

And now, some haikus from my current job search.

gently used admin
in search of loving workplace
with free diet coke

cover letters smell
like desperation, needy
online dating blurbs

no waking at 5
if starbucks is not open
then neither am I

who gives spelling tests
before the job interview
not my future boss

resume talks of
quest for entry level not
days off for beach trips

facebook you tube and
go fug yourself dot com are
more fun than job ads

If sweatpants are banned
on days that end in "y" then
our ideals conflict

blackberries make you
look so cool and important
and rude at parties

would like salaried
and dental for funniness
is this fantasy

without some free food
receptionist gets restless
will take bad message

grown up problems like
jobs, big choices, life changes,
can be solved with cake

writing poetry
better than looking at weather
or plotting revenge

I want to live the
life of a bohemian
or maybe pirate

Theaterical Genius.

So, about a year ago I went to London to visit my lovely Rachel twin and, obviously, fell in LOVE with England because its so very British. One of my favorite things that we did was go see two plays (which, considering I was there for 5 days and we spent 1 in Oxford, is fairly impressive). The two plays we saw were 39 Steps and Boeing Boeing. Both were picked entirely at random, one by Rachel and I over the internet before I got there and one by me as I tried to find day of tickets. I picked them simply because they were billed as funny and had interesting looking females in them (seriously, there is nothing more boring than really gorgeous women on stage being funny and it makes me angry-- you can't have everything).

Since I'm out of New York and so totally out of the loop it took me a few months to realize that BOTH of these plays have jumped the pond in '08. I am probably not going to see 39 Steps because it is reallllly British and I do not have faith that the American actors can make it work (unless they're using the original cast, in which case I might have to give it a chance), I am going to try my hardest to see Boeing Boeing because a- Bradley Whitford is in it and I think he'll be FANTASTIC in the part of aging play boy going insane to make sure all his girlfriends don't meet. And b- the woman who played the American flight attendant's impression of an American woman was out-of-control hilarious and I am curious to see how the actually-American actress does it.

I also have to say that there were about 40 plays* up in London while I was there. I would say that there were 15 that were American crossovers (Spamalot, Wicked, Hairspray), that leaves 25 that were from there and out of that - 2 were picked to come here and I also picked them. My opinions in theater are really top notch. Someone should probably pay me for them.

*I have no idea how many plays there actually were but the ratios are accurate.

The photo was one of the ones outside the theater at Boeing Boeing. Notice how they're all pretty in an interesting way?? That's because they're hilarious, especially the German one on the left. She's my extra favorite.

Denial tastes like robitussin and ginger ale

I have the flu. Apparently - according to Dr. Mom who via phone got a rundown of the symptoms and a graphic description of my relations with the toilet bowl - what I am feeling right now is a mild, but still very much there case of the flu. Awe.some. I haven't been really, really sick since my senior year of college (I just said that and while typing it realized I had a nasty bout of flu-hangover-itis last Good Friday - I am a liar).

I left work early today, something I haven't done for health reasons since I started at my current job. My mom is requesting I stay home tomorrow so I'm in top form for our trip to NYC this weekend. While I really, really want to stay home and get better, there is a part of me that feels so guilty for abandoning my coworkers like that. I'm sure that they can handle it. They've all show that they're vastly smarter and more productive than I am, but there still is this nagging sense of being a bad person for not being there. Something that I think is probably a huge indicator of other, bigger problems.

Anyway, this post is really for my boss, who will probably read it (as he has once again found my blog) - Its 8:44. I'm going to bed. My mom said to call her if you think I'm faking it. She can tell over the phone that I'm on death's door.

favorite day

Here is my to-do list for today:

1-Laundry. Because once again, my procrastinatory/insanely busy nature has made this situation out of hand.

2-Download music.

3-Eat.

THAT'S IT. This is the most low-key Saturday I've had in months and I love it. Seriously. I want to roll around in its laziness. And it gets better...there's nothing to do tomorrow (until 6 PM) either.

"I let you go (oh oh)"

I've had a phenomonally sucky week. Not that anything too terrible happened, but when all the not so terrible things are piled on top of one another it kind of makes me want to crawl into a hole and cancel my Grown Up Club membership.

And there were a few redeemable things that happened but none of them were so earth shattering that they made up for everything else.

Except for one.

I heard my two most favorite songs from 5th grade. "Don't Turn Around" and "The Sign" by Ace of Base. That's right BOTH of those songs worked their ways into my week coincidentally (once was when I was in my boss's car trying not to cry about the cluster fuck of my life, the other was when I was in the bank today taking out more of my rapidly dwindling checking account).

It was awesome. I still know every single word to both. Which is pretty impressive considering all the brain cells I've destroyed since I was ten.

When The Sign first came out I bought the single. On cassette (yeah, thats right. Cassette). We listened to it every morning on the bus to school. We had, I realize now, the coolest bus driver ever. Seriously, the fact that she was willing to listen to the same effin' song about 40,000 times in 5 months is pretty incredible. She was probably drunk the whole time.

Then I got the full album on CD and I'm pretty sure my best friend/worst enemy/next door neighbor stole it. Dumb bitch.

Ace of Base is the first band I remember liking that wasn't influenced by my parents. They were the first thing that mainstream media got me all worked up about. They were my first act of defiance and rebellion against the parentals (my Mom hated them...with good reason, their music is kind of terrible). They were one of the first little threads of grown-up real person-ness that I had.

Anyway, I'm not really sure what happened to Ace of Base, I guess they went back to Sweden or wherever and faded into oblivion. I'm sure one or two of them has been on some sort of VH-1 reality show. But no matter how terrible and nonsensical (have you listened to the lyrics?) their music is I will still love it. And it'll still make my day.

blog-ass

So. I have become a bad blogger, when I started this, my millionth (approx.) blog I wanted it to be awesome. A Tomato Nation, or a Pamie.com. Instead its... um, nothing anymore. What I didn't want it to be was a boring rehash of the daily events. And so instead its nothing. Lame.

Its not that nothing happens, oh no. In the past several months (pretty much since my 23rd birthday) my life has become quite the interesting little tale, full of happiness and crying and making out and cats peeing on my new pier 1 chair but I never remember that I should be writing it down. And I should be- because the more I write, the better I get... so I'm going to start with the writing... I hope. I mean there are other things I need to write too - like cover letters, and novels, and my very first comedy sketch...

Maybe I'll stay off the facebook for a day or two (doubtful) try to remember what I did on the internet before the face' sucked me into its vortex of pictures and bumper stickers.

The photo: Me and some of the best people I've ever met - on stage at the iO theatre in Chicago. Basically this picture is my dream come true.

I'm still here

So, this has been quite the hiatus I've taken from blogging. Although, not really -- I do actually blog on a biweekly basis for the lil hometown paper I was talking about. If I had a static link for it, I would post it, but since I don't, I'll try to remember to copy-paste the entries here -- because they are Hi-Larious. Actually no, but they tend to be entertaining.

Right now I'm enthralled with the second season of Nip/Tuck. My newest television addiction since the WGA strike (its helpful that my roommate owns all seasons on DVD). I'm mildly shocked that they're allowed to show this much graphic sex and surgery on basic cable. And since when can we say "shit" on tv? I never got that memo.

Other then that-- '08 has been good to me this week. I dropped a hundred and fifty bones on clothes in the past two days. I didn't go out drinking at all this weekend, which was actually kind of nice (particularly now that I don't have any money after all the clothes buying).

I start an eight week run of shows at iO tonight. While I am very excited about this opportunity, I am also straight terrified. The forms that my team has concocted are interesting and kinda awesome, but at the same time they aren't quite ready for performance. I'm hoping that we'll figure out a way to cheat for now until we get a chance to figure everything out.

One of the cats in my house peed on my amazing Pier 1 chair. I'm super distraught about it although my Mom is confident that the smell will come out with some Nature's Miracle treatments. Also one of the windows in my living room is broken... our apartment is pretty much falling apart.

I'm considering putting on clothes and starting the day, but I think instead I'll finish this season of Nip/Tuck, read more of Franny and Zooey and wait for the message I'm waiting for.