Three dots in the sky

I find that my homesickness manifests itself in very strange ways.

I almost never get homesick until right before I'm about to go home, but I think that has as much to do with going home as it does with just wanting a break from real life (and some Chick-fil-A).

I started going to sleep-away camp when I was in 6th grade and I would watch these girls cry and cry when their parents left them and then cry and cry every night and then cry and cry when their parents came to pick them up. Whereas I would wave goodbye at my Mom without so much as a second glance and then kind of forget about my family until Friday when they came to pick me up and I would beg to stay longer.

Sleepovers? No problem? Weeks with other peoples' families at the beach? Cake. My younger self had no problem with separation issues (which is apparently hilarious because my very younger three year old self apparently couldn't handle being separated from my mom for more than like 47 seconds without flipping out).

When I went off to college, my Mom dropped me at my New York City apartment and she was about to leave when I (shrilly) exclaimed, "but I don't have any food!" So she took me grocery shopping and that was enough. After the groceries, we hugged and kissed goodbye and things were fine. I think the only time I remember getting really emotional about being homesick was right after my Mom and Caroline and Belinda left after being in NYC for my 18th birthday, but again - life is more fun with my family around so it might have just been that.

I keep moving further and further away and while I feel the tug of the East Coast its nothing like some of my friends experience.

When I went to South Africa, I went the longest I've ever gone without actually vocally speaking to either of my parents (almost three weeks) and I knew I was upset, but I was also having so much fun that I couldn't decide which emotion (sadness or excitement) had the most power (I ended up drinking a whole lot, obvi, because I didn't want to make the choice).

I found that when I was feeling upset, the thing that calmed me down was finding the constellation Orion's Belt in the sky. I'm not a huge stars person, but its one of the easiest to pick out and one of the only ones you can see both in North America and South Africa.

Every night after drinking as we stumbled back to the dorms I would look up in the sky and announce that I had found Orion's Belt, as if it hadn't been discovered several thousand years ago. Then I would fall asleep, wake up and everything would be just fine.

Since I've gotten back from South Africa (about 3 and a half years ago), Orion's Belt has been one of those things that has remained a touchstone. Let's be f'real. You can see it pretty much from anywhere in the world and so I've found it in England, in New York City, on Nantucket, in Chicago...

Everywhere I go, when I'm feeling kind of lost and alone (which tends to happen most at night) I look up and find it and am okay again...and by okay I mean, I might end up crying or screaming at some point but when I wake up in the morning, everything will be just gravy.

So that's why, if you're ever standing next to me, and I exclaim that I've found Orion's Belt with an absurd amount of happiness-- don't roll your eyes. Just give me a hug because its probably what I want.

D. N. Flippin' C.

Its over. Its all over. I've sent my last blog (which might not even get posted), I've put up the rest of my pictures

I have all the buttons I'll buy here. Which isn't very many because I didn't get as much shopping time as I wanted. But I have plenty of schwag and 1300 pictures and this story to tell my grandkids.

It was really, really, reaaaaally overwhelming. By the end of yesterday I pretty much lost it and had a freak out for a solid 30 minutes before I managed to get myself back together. And I almost got hit in the face by a cop (you're going to have to ask me for that story). I loved getting to take pictures, but the life of a photographer is nuts and I wasn't even a real photographer so I can only imagine the added pressure when you're trying to get paid for your work. Also, your camera is probably pretty heavy when it is as big as most of theirs.

But I have to say, the once in a lifetime-ness of it all made it so worth it. I mean, I was there!! I saw Barack speak. I was 5 yards from him when he surprised everyone on Wednesday. I listened to Michelle and Bill and Hillary. I watching Hillary letting her delegates go, which was one of the most heartbreaking things ever (being a loser sucks and losing on this level probably sucks even harder and yet you have to keep smiling all the time). I saw Dennis Kucinich rev up a crowd more than I've ever seen (for the number of people in the audience, which wasn't many, making the amount of noise they made, which was a lot - I think it was one of the most well received speeches of all 4 days).

I don't think of myself as really political, just opinionated and I went into this thing not getting the big whoop about Barack. I know people who love him, and I respected their love but there was always this voice whispering in my ear, "he's just a presidential candidate" but I guess its because we haven't had a candidate like this in so long. I mean, I didn't see Kennedy run and I didn't see Clinton run (well, I don't really remember it) so maybe its because these past 8 years have just given us lame candidates. But when I got up there and listened to him speak and watched the people react to him, it made so much sense.

He's a rockstar. Liberals love rockstars. And I know there's some seamy underbelly to his story, but that's politics. People want to believe in him because they're running out of things to believe in. And while I don't totally feel that way, I respect it and am very interested to see how he does for the rest of this election.

Also, I touched a Kennedy. Which, if you aren't a democrat before, you sure are after. Bobby Kennedy Jr gave a 15 minute speech standing on a chair in the middle of a Gumbo restaurant in downtown Denver at 10 PM on Tuesday and it was amazing. It was stump-y of course, but it didn't matter. He's got the genes for it.

So here's the blog - which hasn't been updated all day, which sucks, but might be updated tomorrow. And pictures.

I'm ready to go home though. A whole three days of work, class, packing, unpacking and then off to Nantucket.

Michelle Obama has an amazing backside

My first day at the convention was one of the most overwhelming of my entire life. I am feeling really guilty right now because everyone is getting ready for the day (my Aunt and Uncle who have so graciously allowed me to stay on their couch are now cooking me bacon) and I am sitting here blogging and posting pictures to Picassa. I'm going to put up a few more pictures before I get ready for day 2 (Barbara Mikulski! Mark Warner! HRC!). My blogs can be found here

And my pictures can be found here


So check those all week!! And check here, if I get a chance I'll post here, but probably not because the FNP actually hooked me up with the press passes so I have to keep them happy before anyone else.

I will say though that listening to Michelle Obama speak and listening to Ted Kennedy speak and being right there with them for all of it was one of the most surreal experiences of my whole life. I've never been all about the politics, more all about the Hollywood, and so never thought of these as real people. But they are real and they're spectacular.

More soon.

Its almost over/its just beginning

So, life is kind of crazy right now, for a bajillion reasons. Most of them being that at some point in life I was taught to save all the best parts of summer for the end of it. I don't know why- but it makes a whole bunch of sense and it makes the transition into fall that much easier. Although, now that I'm no longer in school there shouldn't really be a transition, and yet for some reason there always is.

The rest of this week promises a Cubs game, a job interview, my first time hosting a Chicago party, new improv classes, and my first Nats game (which will also be my third cubs game).

Then next week I fly to Denver to take part in one of the craziest things I've ever talked my way into. The Democratic National Convention. I can't really believe that we're actually flying all the way there - and we're going to have press passes and I'm going to be in Colorado! For the first time!! Ever! I keep going West!

Then I come home with just enough time to unpack and then repack before heading to Nantucket. By myself!! I've never gone on a solo vacation. If it isn't completely sad its going to be totally wonderful. I don't think I spend enough time just by myself not talking. I have a lot of writing I want to get done and there will be nothing better for the muses then sitting on the porch eating portugese bread and drinking Granny's bad coffee.

After that...its the middle of September. I might have managed to talk my way into a new job. And I'll be taking two new classes, interning, doing shows and keeping myself more busy than most people actually believe possible. And its football season! And the world series! And I'll be turning 24. And I get to go to Chincoteague!! And my baby sister is turning 16 (more on that later).

I've been getting less sleep lately, for a whole bunch of reasons all good except for the fact that, you know - I miss sleep.

I know this sounds crazy, mostly because I am always crabby and I complain a lot and I seriously have no money, but I'm pretty absurdly happy right now. I know that once winter starts things are going to get pretty depressing, but I'm trying to save up happiness, like a squirrel, and I'll have it to get me through January and February.

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.