I. Have. A. New. Job

FINALLY!


Starting September 24th I will be the Assistant Marketing and Programs Manager for Theatre Council Productions! TCP presents and promotes Broadway tours in the contiguous US, as well as all the touring engagements of NPR personalities like Ira Glass, David Sedaris, Garrison Keillor.

It's a big job with a lot of diverse duties and it's going to be busy, busy, busy but I am SO excited about it. It's a great opportunity to break into commercial theatre and learn from the best how to put asses in seats.

Full time, benefits, IRA, all that good stuff PLUS:
It's ten minutes from my house
There's no dress code
We work 10 to 6 5 days a week instead of 9 to 5. Holler!


I'm excited to get started--I'd love to start sooner but I've got a few other things that I need to wrap up between now and then including my sinus surgery this Monday--the 17th. I'm hoping it will be sucessful and I'll actually be able to BREATHE out of my right nostril and not have 10 sinus infections a year. A girl can dream, right?

So, wish me luck with all of this and I'll keep you all updated on my surgery. Helllllloooo, Vicodin!

Oh, and I FINALLY have a title that doesn't have the word Coordinator in it! 'Bout time

Because I Want to be Just Like Doolin When I Grow Up :)

Lately, I've had quite a few "friends" disappoint me. I am fiercely loyal and like to think I'm a reasonably attentive and available friend--and it really bums me out when I don't get the same treatment in return. Two particular people, who of course shall remain nameless--but they aren't on myspace anyway, so who cares, have been really shitty to me and other people lately and it was really starting to bum me out.
One, I realized, was never really a friend to begin with and clearly had some major problems to deal with, so I let that one go pretty quickly.

The second one, however, has been pretty consistent in disappointing me in the past, once I sat down and thought about it. Which is really pretty sad, because the times when this person didn't disappoint me, we were really good friends. Not just the kind you have a drink with or hang out with, the kind you cry with about your life and have inside jokes with. But, the bad parts have started to outweigh the good. Not returning my phone calls, emails, and generally just being unavailable and almost arrogantly so. A reasonable human being would say "Well, clearly this guy is either super busy or really is a douchebag and just doesn't want to hang out with me". However, I, being me, took it personally, of course, and sat around stewing about what it was I possibly could have done that would have made him not like me. It's pathetic, my need to be liked. My patheticness aside, it's just kind of sad to realize that someone is way more important to you than you are to them.

I got a good nights sleep and have gained some perspective and have realized that the appropriate response to this is: fuck that. If this person can't find five fucking minutes to call me back and say "Hey, sorry I've been AWOL, I'm just super busy and I hope you are well and we'll get together soon"--then why should I waste my time chasing after them and feeling bad about myself?

And, despite the fact that I may have jettisoned some shitty-friend-baggage, holy crap do I have some amazing friends.

And, thus, it's time to pull a Doolin, and say thanks to those people who have been true friends:

There's no particular order here.

Doolin: Not many people I know have friends that they've been close with for as long as you and I have. While that's partially a testament to the fact that we share the same goofy sense of humor and love of doing virtually nothing, it's also due to the fact that you are an incredibly loyal and good person. I really don't know what I'd do without you and wish there was some way to move Vero and Chicago closer together. I don't really have the right words or enough of them to say how thankful I am that you've been my friend for this long.

Pippin: You know me so well that sometimes it scares the crap out of me. I am so proud of you, you giant rockstar. We've always been really honest with each other--even if it means possibly pissing each other off a little--because we know that there's really nothing the other person could say or do that could change our friendship. And you make good grits. I pretty much miss you every minute of the day and am also pretty sure you need to move to Chicago, like, now. Growing up, I always wanted a brother. Someone to goof around with and who would bring home hot friends for me to gawk at. Well, you've totally failed me on the hot friends front but Doolin and you are the best brothers I could have ever possibly asked for.

Ryan McMurray: You are one of the awesomest people I've ever had the privilege of knowing. We're both really strange individually--and combined, our weirdness forms an impermeable shield of goofiness and chicken sex jokes. It makes me so happy to know that you think of me as someone you can ask for advice on sticky situations, and I just hope someday you find a girl who deserves you. And, has giant boobies.

Rinda: Your ability to stay positive when it's raining crap all around you is a quality I wish I had. We started out as "school friends" who enjoyed mocking our possibly retarded classmates, and we've become the kind of friends who will stick up for each other...and still make fun of everyone around us.

Ryan Guhde: A, you're adorable. You always make me laugh and I eagerly open my email every day to see what's new in your life. Since you're Mr. Chicago Actor now we don't see each other nearly enough, but you always make time for us and I always feel like, no matter how busy we get, we're always a priority to each other.

Emily D: You are always up for being insane with me, and we both came out of the Collaboraction crazy machine and lived to tell the tale. We're very similar and have shared a lot of the same frustrations and fears and put up with a lot of crap from people who underestimate and undervalue us. There's unique experiences we've shared that no one else has--and I know you're the kind of person I could call at 3 AM--drunk or not--and you'll take the time to listen to me.

Andy: I miss you. Spain is great and all and I've certainly enjoyed the emails of your exploits--as a matter of fact I've kept them all-- but when are you coming home, already? You are, and I know I've said this before, one of the few genuinely nice, good people left on the planet and I will lay the smack down on anyone who tries to take advantage of that. That being said, I still can't believe you didn't go back to Swenso's room with her. Yeah, it was 8 years ago. No, I haven't let it go yet. :)

Ali Hunter: I miss you! We never finished watching The Last Unicorn! From Freshman year and both being drunken lunatics--we're both now grownups, huh? At this point, there's only a few people left from college that I keep in real, regular contact with and I'm so glad you're one of them--and hopefully someday we can live within a reasonable distance of each other. Also, you were CLEARLY the captain of Team "And Guest".

Aubry: Hey, weren't you supposed to come visit or move here or something, like, a year ago? I'm jealous of your ability to spend time with the lovely Brothers Wolfe and--like nearly everyone else on this list--hope that we'll someday be able to spend more time with each other. God, do I have to move to New York? It's too close to my in-laws! Don't make me do it!

David Gonsier: I love you, you giant metrosexual freak. I'm so amazed of your abilities and your overall awesomeness, it renders me speechless. Okay, maybe not totally speechless. I'll always have a few words left to make fun of certain parts of your anatomy. And, I love that you take my ribbings and understand that it just means I love ya.

Rob: God, we've known each other for so long I can't remember a time when I didn't know you. Yes, we get on each other's nerves and have differences of opinion, but I know you've got my back and that you understand me and have put up with a lot of mine and everyone else's crap over the years and have never changed who you are. I wish I had one tenth of the strength of character that you had.

There's so many other people I owe a debt of gratitude to and I know I'm probably going to get in trouble for only singling out a few people, but my brain can only process so much genuine emotion before it shuts down again and goes to the sarcastic place. That, and I'm pretty sure if I don't take Charlie outside in the next 5 minutes he's gonna drop a dog log on my carpet. See, we're back to the sarcastic place.

So, just because I didn't write you a love note this time doesn't mean you won't get one really, really soon, I promise.

My Own Dr. Cox Style Rant

Apropos of Virtually Nothing, Here are some things that are currently pissing me off:

The Bush Administration
Global Warming
Gas Prices
The fact that I want to buy every single thing at Anthropologie but can only afford, like, half a sweater
The fact that pizza has calories
High fructose corn syrup
High Taxes
High School
Low returns on investments
Low expectations
Losers
Users
People with skanky feet
People with skanky teeth
My skanky feet that need a pedicure that, again, I can't afford
People who try to touch my feet, unless they are giving me a pedicure
People who try to touch their feet with my feet
People who try to touch my teeth with their feet, which has never happened but if it did, ew, that would be gross
People who lie
People who steal
People who lie about stealing
People who steal to cover up the fact that they are liars
People whose need for attention outweighs their desire to be good people
People who have no self-awareness
People who have no concept of the truth
People who know exactly what the truth is, but don't care because they think the rules of society don't apply to them
People who don't think about anything but themselves
People who don't call you back
People who don't know how to spell
The US Health Insurance Industry
The fact that being a total skanky skanky whoreface has become de rigeur
People who underestimate the extent of my loyalty to those who mean something to me
People who underestimate my ability to stand up for myself

People who underestimate the value of items in their shopping cart and thus have to "put back" half of the items, leaving me waiting behind them impatiently with only a gallon of milk and a bunch of bananas, but I couldn't use the express checkout because it wasn't open, and it's starting to rain outside and I had to park really far away from the entrance and don't have an umbrella and I really would like to just get home.


And Hugh Jackman.

Studying Stones

I am out here studying stones
trying to learn to be less alive
using all of my will
to keep very still
still even on the inside
i've cut all of the pertinent wires
so my eyes can't make that connection
i am holding my breath
i am feigning my death
when i'm looking in your direction

'course numb is an old hat
old as my oldest memories
see that one's my mother
and that one's my father
and that one in the hat, that's me
it's a skill i'd hoped to abandon
when i got out on the open road
but any more pent up emotion
and i think i'm gonna explode

there's never been an endeavor so strange
as trying to slow the blood in my veins
to keep my face blank
as a stone that just sank
until not a ripple remains
i am high above the tree line
sitting cross legged on the ground
when all of the forbidden fruit has fallen and rotted
that's when i'm gonna come down

'course numb is an old hat
old as my oldest memories
see that one's my mother
and that one's my father
and that one in the hat, that's me
it's a skill i'd hoped to abandon
when i got out on the open road
but any more pent up emotion
and i think i'm gonna explode

WORDS AND MUSIC BY ANI DIFRANCO

Things That Cost Too Much Money

So, in an effort to be more like real adults and less like stupid idiots, Ian and I have begun the process of making a more complicated monthly budget, with very specific line items that we plan to stick to very strictly in an effort to save some money. Granted, neither of us are really big spenders--I don't feel the need to put 22s and spinners on my Subaru, oddly enough, but we realized that by not having a specific budgetary allotment for certain items, there were definitely places we were spending too much cash.

In reviewing our past few months of bank statements and credit card statements, here's what I found:

Holy shit, when did groceries get so damn expensive? I mean, you'd think we were eating truffle-dusted gold leafed lobster with a chaser of Cristal. How the hell does anyone afford having kids? Last time I checked, you're supposed to feed them.

Gas in Chicago. I don't even know where to begin. And we don't even use our cars that much--especially now that neither of us are working in the suburbs, thank God. Is Gasoline really made out of the semen of a rare and tiny monkey found only in the rainforests of Namibia? Because for over $3.00 a gallon for regular, that better be some pretty awesome monkey spunk I'm putting in my tank.

Dogs and cats. Yes, I know, we've got more pets than people in our house at this point and we should've known better, but I swear everytime I turn around they need food or litter or something. Why can't they stop licking their asses and get a job shining shoes or something? It gets cold here in Chicago in the winter--and it'll be winter before we know it, and Charlie needs a snowcoat to wear so we can walk him in February without him freezing his tiny doggy taint off. Might as well have adopted a 4 year old, for crying out loud.


And, finally, a plea to all our friends: for the love of God, please stop getting married. Everytime you get married we have to buy a plane ticket, buy a present, I have to buy a new dress. We know you love each other and all and that's really swell, but take it from us, shacking up and being married are exactly the same, you just have a nicer blender to show for it. Hopefully soon maybe our married friends will start getting divorced because then we'll get our gifts back, right? and I can pawn them? What do you mean it doesn't work that way?

Ovaries are AWESOME

Okay, I will start this post with two disclaimers:
1) I know I don't post with any regularity. You want to work two jobs? Take one from me and then maybe I'll have time to post all the damn time.

2) If you are male and afraid of the female reproductive process and all that it entails you may just want to stop reading right now.


I have, and have had for many years, the worst PMS known to man. I've got it all: the fluid retention, the irrationality, the wanting to eat everything within a 10 mile radius.

I once saw an article in a magazine about PMDD which is some fancy elevated form of PMS, and since I am generally convinced I have every disease and disorder I read about, I made a mental note to talk to my gyno about it at my yearly exam. Turns out PMDD involves actually becoming psychotic and possibly harming actual people rather than just blowing up like the stay-puf marshmallow man and consuming multiple chocolate chip cookies. I don't have PMDD but instead just have "severe" PMS symptoms, which some people could see as yet another reason why, if I were to have been born a hundred years ago and had not had the benefit of modern medicine, I would have surely died shortly after birth.

Once, when describing my litany of symptoms to a friend who had virtually ZERO PMS-like tendencies, she remarked how "sorry" she was that I had to suffer so, and wasn't it "unfortunate and unfair" that she should skip happily through her monthly cycle while I limp through it bloated and bawling.

And, for those who know me, you also know that I am not one who enjoys feeling the pity of others. I am not to pitied, for being pitied would mean there is something wrong with me and there is perhaps some area of life that I do not excel at. I am the best, at everything, and once everyone else around me realizes that everything will be okay. This is the reason why my husband is scared to play boardgames with me, especially with other people around. We played Uno with his family at Thanksgiving this year and he was really, really proud of me because I won a round and managed not to scream "HA! Take that mothafuckas! I am the CHAMPION!! I AM SUPERIOR!!!" to his 92 year old grandmother. I got my eyes checked over Christmas break and found that my vision has actually gotten better over the years, which meant for about two days anytime Ian (whose vision is far inferior to mine) made some snarky comment I would yell "I AM SU-PER-IOR! I have laser vision, bitches! I am a more highly evolved race of human! I have improved my own sight with my MIND! MYMIND!!"

But back to the PMS. I've become convinced that it is yet another sign of just how truly superior I am. You gain 2 pounds of water weight? TRY 4 or 5, you pansy. Hallmark commercials make you cry? OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE COMMERCIALS MAKE ME BAWL LIKE A BABY! SUCK ON THAT! Okay, maybe that's not true, but you get the point of this, which is of course, that my PMS can kick your PMS'es ass.

So, you, know, if you need me, I'll be on my couch wearing THE ONLY PAIR OF PANTS THAT FIT RIGHT NOW crying and eating pretzels. But, all the while, I'll be happy on the inside, because I know that I am better than you. My swollen boobs are proof.

Sausage Fest

The main difference between my two jobs, besides the fact that one is at a Catholic School and one is at a den of sin, iniquity and licensiousness, is that at Collaboraction (the dirty place, not the Jesus place), there is a far higher male to female ratio. And that's not always a bad thing. A workplace only containing females has its downsides, I suppose.

When I first started at C'raction, there were very, very few women in the office on a regular basis. Then, the Gods smiled upon me and brought me Michelle,Emily,Becky, and Sarah G. And not a moment too soon.

The boys in my office are amusing. They are all talented, smart and charming in their own ways. This doesn't, however, mean that I don't occasionally want to strangle them. There's a fair amount of male posturing that tends to go on when certain male coworkers are trying to reach a consensus. There's been more than one afternoon where I've wanted to just go up to them and say: Why don't you just pull it out, slap it down on the table and finally see whose is bigger. I promise we won't watch, we'll just sit in the GenOps Hobbit Hole and talk about shoes while you "men" figure out who is more manly, once and for all. Then, hug it out bitches, and let's get back to work.

I have my theories of course, about who IS actually bigger out of the boys: and, ladies, it's probably not who you think--it never is.
I sincerely hope I never have to find out, however. Shudder.

They're all adorable, though, really. Sort of like a really cute dog that jumps up on you and drools on your jeans and you think "Oh, aren't you cute, wouldn't you be cuter if you were actually well behaved". But maybe that's a bit harsh...or maybe not.

I've spent most of my life, through a series of both coincidences and deliberate choices, as one of the lone females in a sea of unwashed, gassy, barely housetrained boys with Pirate-y tendencies. Though I whine about the toilet seat being up ALL THE TIME and have been severely disappointed on more than one occasion by my choice of products in the Pirate shower, it has all become charmingly familiar to me. I've even grown accustomed to the stack of Playboys by the toilet, though I will never agree with you that some of those women are "hot". Most of them are scary.

So, to the new set of clueless, vile and wildly inappropriate men who I'm forced (okay, who I choose) to spend much of my time with nowadays: when I call you names, roll my eyes at your antics and generally abuse you: I'm really saying thanks, for making me feel at home. Now put the goddamned seat down or you're going to have a mutiny on your hands.

Birthdays and Bone Spurs

It's been an interesting few weeks.
My moods have bounced from complete elation to utter and total unhappiness. I have much to celebrate, I know, but some days all I can see is the endless work that stretches before me, and all I can think about is how far away I am from some of the people that I love the most. The people that I need the most on those long and dreary days. MySpace comments, short phone calls and text messages are not substitutes for being with them.
I am blessed with a handful of people in my life who I know I don't have to explain myself to. I'm trying to make an effort to have more people like that in my life here. People who don't expect me to be cheery and entertaining at all times. It's difficult.
I've extended the offer of true friendship to several people and have been dissapointed. No matter how secure in yourself you are, that hurts. And I know that I can't expect everyone to be like my close friends are: caring, unselfish. I'm not always good at reading people, at figuring out who they are. I have tendency to think, if I just try hard enough, maybe this person will actually turn out to be someone who I can count on. I ignore whatever signs indicate the contrary and cling desperately to the small signs of hope.
But, I have found people here who I love, people who mean something to me.

On a completely different note, I have a bone spur in my hand! Super awesome. My right hand. It's not really that big a deal in the grand scheme of things but it's really annoying to have to be going back and forth to Dr's appointments when you're already working like 50 hours a week.

And, Sunday is my birthday, which is also sort of a mixed bag of emotions. Birthdays used to just mean cake, presents and me being the center of attention for a day or so. There will still probably be cake and there will certainly be booze, but there's also that nagging thought in the back of my brain that gets louder and louder every year: What did you accomplish this year? What did you learn? Are you any better for having been through this year? What have you done for the people around you?

What did I learn this year?
I think I finally learned that my life would really, truly not be any different if my outer appearance was different. I am more than the sum of my parts.

I learned that you cannot flush a porta-potty, even if you want to. They just don't work that way.

I learned that all you really learn in school is how to go to school, how to work the system.

I learned that some days will be good. Some days, I will merely get through. And some days I will want to crawl under my desk and cry. There is nothing wrong with this, and this is not any different than anyone else's life. No one is happy every day, and there is nothing wrong with me if I am not Mary Sunshine 7 days a week.

I learned that caring what other people think of me is not necessarily a bad thing, but what really matters when push comes to shove is what I think of myself.

I learned that if I am two minutes late for something the globe will not stop spinning or fall of it's axis. I will merely be two minutes late for something. But, I still have my watch set 5 minutes ahead.

I learned that my perfectionism, self-conciousness and insecurities are really the only things holding me back from doing what I want at any given moment.

I learned that the voice that lives inside my head that tells me I'm not good enough is not my own, and that, whoever she is, I should remember to tell her to go to hell on a daily basis.

And, finally, I learned that 8 hours sleep will make any crisis much more livable.