New York, Take 3

I keep going to New York, guys, and it's awesome.

My very small mother and I rode the train down to the city through a very scenic, very fluffy white landscape early on Saturday morning. The purpose of the trip was three-fold: Christmas shopping, kidnapping my sister back, and seeing a show. All three of these things happened.

1. Christmas Shopping: For those of you who have never tried to wrestle thirty-eight rabid backyard animals simultaneously, maybe it will be difficult to understand the experience that is Century 21.

I'm not talking real estate, I'm talking about a discount downtown department store. It could probably be classified as a sub-borough of Manhattan. The one that only crazy people and my mother inhabit. As I tried to muscle my way through walls of damp and frantically bustling and elbowing people, not even for pants or socks, just for air or daylight - I think I lost something fundamental of my humanity. But we got some cheap crap!! For cheap!!

My mother is a big fan of crime and illegality in general, so we then went to Canal Street. This was, shockingly, not even half as soul-sucking as Century 21, and we walked out with some questionably labeled items. For cheap!! See a pattern?

Kidnapping my sister: Meaghan's home! This is good news to me, my family, and every convenience store that carries mini-muffins in the metro Boston area.

Going to a SHOW: Ok, listen. You know her as Corky's mom on Life Goes On, but here's the thing: Patty LuPone is a goddess.

We went to see Gypsy, mostly because they had 1/2 price tickets, and I had no expectations really at all. And then Patty LuPone happened to me. She's like Liza Minelli if Liza Minelli were a person. She's funny and gorgeous and so very very talented. Patty LuPone, you can raise an adult down syndrome child AND rip apart a finale like no one else I've ever seen. Whattalady!!

and for cheap!!

So there's my third NY trip this winter. Brought to you by Judi McGhee, Meaghan McGhee, Patty LuPone and a TON of Asian merchants.

Till next time!
xo
erin

Good Deeds, Good Music, and Guns

Hello everybody!

I've been busy in work. The kind of busy that transcends running from copy machine to printer, to email. The kind of busy that leaves a person paralyzed by impending deadlines, sitting their cube unable to do much but write, cross-out, and re-write a to-do list. So, posting blogs has been a specific difficulty. But it was starting to feel like I'd left a child shoeless on the corner of some street, so here we are! I've been drinking enough coffee this morning to feel slightly able, and that's a good thing.

I think I'm going to have to bullet-point.

* Congratulations to the wonderful folks at Improv Asylum and Mike Anastasia specifically for putting together a fundraiser that raised $17,000 for Globe Santa.

I couldn't be a part of the festivities this year, which was quite disappointing, but it's such a fabulous thing they do, and such a wonderful cause they support. Yay, guys, yay.

* I started listening to Bon Iver.

I know, so late to the party, as always. But it's perfect for the gray of these winter days, and on a relatively superficial note, the CDs title For Emma, Forever Ago is almost my favorite title of anything ever. Something to do with the sentiment, the meter and the assonance, I guess. The music is quiet and desolate, and heartbreaking, and low, and lovely. Winter time, for sure.

* Folks, if you've ever wondered, "hm...I wonder if Erin has ever held a gun?" I've got the answer for you. I have. I guess this is what happens when you go to New Hampshire for a weekend. Hosted by my FNFO2008 (favorite new friend of 2008) Laura, and the always delightful Renee, I spent some time in scenic Manchester, NH last weekend. There was Mexican food, lots of wine, a Podunk bluegrass band, and some really good diner fare. Oh yeah, and guns folks. Laura's charming boyfriend Sean hunts (sorry to those who take offense. i do, however, eat meat as a life-choice so suspend my right to judge) and he had some pretty fantastic stories to tell about life crouching in snow drifts with a weapon. And when he offered to let me hold the rifle, I did comply. And it was kind of cool. Not that I could ever actually bring myself to shoot anything, but pretty cool nonetheless.

*TONIGHT Bastards Inc. performs at Improv Boston at 8pm. It's our last show before the holidays, so come on down. I'd love to see you!

love and updates,
Erin

Good Things with the Exception of Shampoo

It's raining aggressively outside right now and the bottoms of my pants are soaking wet because I'm shorter than a person ought to be...but things aren't so very bad at all. For example, yesterday my office building closed down because of some rad explosion that shut down all the power around Arlington St./Copley Square. This enabled me to have a leisurely cup of coffee with a friend, write a little, and take a nap. Granted, had I known about the unexpected 3 day weekend I probably would have stayed in New York another day, but unfortunately I'm neither psychic or powerful enough to cause explosions with my mind. Both of these things may change someday.

Speaking of New York, it was awesome. I got to drink insane amounts of coffee in wonderful company, check out sister Meg's fun apartment (which may or may not have a rat in the walls but is charming nevertheless), watch Arrested Development for the first time ever (I know!),and just relax a little. It was cold as hell, true, but still awesome.

Last night Alison and I ate sandwiches and gaped at Robert Pattinson for about two hours. I get it, I don't care, he's ridiculous. Renee, back me up?

And this morning I got shampoo in my eye which I hadn't done for about a decade. And it will take about another decade to forget how effing awful it is to get shampoo in your eye.

But I digress. The main idea of the story is that things are pretty good. I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving and beyond. To a time when I can create power outages with mind-force.



Eat good, chickens.
xo
erin

Vampires.

Dear reader,
In an attempt to avoid hyperbole, I'll tell you that words like "train wreck" and "nuclear meltdown" could be used to describe the week in which I'm currently mired. Read the preceding text as if I'm speaking in a British accent, please.

So, instead, let me talk about vampires. You heard me, vampires. I've had two awesome vampiric artistic (ish) experiences recently that I've loved in very very different ways. The first is the film, Let the Right One In. This is a Swedish horror movie that some of my lovely work friends and I went to see in Kendall Square this past weekend. It was so sparse and cold looking, with that specifically northern loneliness that can only be visually communicated through shots of snow at night. Really gorgeous. I didn't know what the hell I thought of the movie after I left the theater, but a few hours later I decided that I'm crazy about it. It was so heartfelt and innocent, but also really filled with torment and grief, but in the end, it was a love story.


A real weirdo love story, but a love story. Go see it, but not if you're feeling kind of strange to begin with. If you're feeling strange, rent Anchor Man.

The second stop in our vampiric journey is...yup, you guessed it, the Twilight series. Guys. Seriously? What's going on? I loved the first book and am buying the second today. Am I fourteen? It's crack.



BookCrack. Every woman I know wants to have relations with Edward Cullen (Harry Potter's Cedric Diggery for those of you who have stared at the movie posters scratching your collective adorable head). It's hard to explain. Just read it the books, it will only take you about a day.

So, thank goodness for vampires, folks, or else I may have brawled with myself Fight Club style in a public place. And it's only Wednesday!

Someone buy me a coffee or something?
Love,
erin

Briefly...

Oh folks, have I been writing. I just passed by the 50% mark, and I'm exhausted. But I've got to keep going! I'm just a few weeks away from having a novel. I real, honest to goodness novel. Yes, it will need gigantic amounts of revision and no, I don't know for sure where my characters will find themselves at the end...but it's a process.

Last night we had a fabulously fun Bastards Inc. show at Improv Boston. It's been uniquely terrific performing with Ryan and Taylor every Thursday. My chief problem with all this is that I keep laughing on stage during scenes. Which is both a lovely and utterly infuriating problem to have. They're just pretty awesome.

This weekend is going to be filled with writing, movies, writing, comedy, and I might try to write a little.

Miss you too.
Love,
erin

A Question of Love

I'm at about 16,000 words on my novel so far, sorry for the never-posting.

I feel a lot of things about prop. 8 and have not been able to articulate them effectively. I think Keith does it pretty well for me (us). What an interesting time to be an American...





xo,
erin

Here's The Thing...

I'm doing this nanowrimo craziness and it's seriously cut down on my blogging. I understand that that sentence might be entirely nonsensical to many, many people. Basically, I'm trying to write a novel and trying to keep up with daily word counts. It's hilarious and maddening and really fun. At this very moment I am behind, but not for long! I'm at 4,815 and I should be very close to 6,000.

So back I go. To writing, working, etc.

VOTE, for Obama.


kisses,
erin

The Art of Being Alone

I spent many years of my younger life with my nose in a blank book, thinking very intensely about the trials and tribulations of my little life. Oh, trials! Starting somewhere in middle school and continuing through most of college, I'd write almost every day -- lots and lots of unrequited love, boredom, frustration, gross stuff. I can't read that junk now for its terrible earnestness, but there's something great to be said for just writing whatever is on your mind.

Maybe the most positive side-effect of this kind of writing is that I would often seek out places where I could be alone in a crowd like a museum, park, library, cafe, and just immerse myself in the activity. When I was living in Europe for a bit in college the train rides were almost always my favorite part of a trip because it allowed me the opportunity to sit quietly, watch scenery fly by, and write. It was the closest I've ever come to actual meditation.

I just don't do that anymore. Maybe because it feels self indulgent (says the blogger), or because I just can't take myself seriously enough to write about my feelings. I'm a comedian (kinda) after all and we're pretty much wired to spot and exploit silly behavior in other people. I probably make fun too much. Which is fun.

Maybe I'm afraid to document what I'm thinking, convinced that some bully is going to rip it away from me and read it out loud to the rest of the class. Then everyone will know how I got my period in sewing class and that's actually why I got dismissed*.



I'm making an effort lately to be alone more. I like talking to people and being busy, but I think it's important to not let being busy take over completely.

So, essentially I just blogged about journaling. I think I've crossed some kind of postmodern line and will probably implode pretty soon. So listen guys, you've been great. I'm going to document this all in my journal.

introspective and crap,
erin

*true story

In Ya Face

When riding public transportation, I tend to go elsewhere mentally. Especially when it's the morning and it's a very familiar route. Usually there are headphones on, and a lot of staring at the seat in front of me or half-reading a daily paper that's been discarded on the floor. Something that can readily break me out of this haze is being bopped on the nose by a dude.

He didn't mean it, he kind of fell into me, but he bopped me right on the nose. He was just some normal guy in a North Face jacket, totally non-threatening, a little lost looking, bop. We kind of looked at each other after it happened, he to apologize, I to assess this person who just randomly touched my face.

The true weirdness of the experience made me realize that it's very very seldom that someone touches another person's face. I mean, it's really limited to a mom or a boyfriend, in my experience. Face touching is weirdly intimate. I keep using the word "weird" in this post because it best describes the unexpected situation.

Made me think about boundaries, routine, barriers, collective numbness...meh, it's Friday.

In The Wee Small Hours...

The new fun game I'm playing is called "Insomnia: The MUSICAL!" only it's not a game and there's no music. There is however a blessed pocket of time each night between 2am and 5am wherein my body says, "wake on up, erin!" and my thoughts race like I'm on speed. This is usually followed by an accelerated heart rate and lots of makeshift breathing exercises. I'm going to try to have some quiet tea and meditation time this evening to ward off the wake-up, we shall see! This trend makes for real special mornings in which I star in "Frustrated Rage: The MUSICAL!" This one has lots of singing**.

I'm still super excited for nanowrimo -- and I'm batting around ideas for what will become a very hasty masterpiece. I found this description of a "Byronic Hero" on Wikipedia. Think Mr. Rochester from Jane Eyre...

* high level of intelligence and perception
* cunning and ability to adapt
* sophistication and education
* self-criticism and introspection
* mysteriousness, magnetism and charisma
* struggle with integrity
* power of seduction and sexual attraction
* social and sexual dominance
* emotional conflicts, bipolar tendencies, or moodiness
* a distaste for social institutions and norms
* being an exile, an outcast, or an outlaw
* "dark" attributes not normally associated with a hero
* disrespect of rank and privilege
* a troubled past
* cynicism
* arrogance
* self-destructive behaviour



A Byronic hero is apparently sexy and bad for you - nice! I've got a lot to plot and plan and I wish it was legal to start writing before November 1st, because then I could really utilize those wee hours in the morning for something at least ostensibly productive.

more coffee,
erin

** swearing.

If I Go to Gloucester You Know I Will Wait There for You

Newly obsessed, I've been listening to Ra Ra Riot constantly for the past few days. It's kind of ridiculous the way I do this periodically, just live inside a CD and let it color all of my experiences for an amount of time. That's why certain music is tied so tightly to different periods in my life I guess. I can't even listen to some songs anymore, not because I stopped loving them, but because I was probably unhappy or having a manic hour when I loved it the first time.

But anyway, Ra Ra Riot is amazing. It's kind of like Vampire Weekend with a strong thoughtful undercurrent. A dancy-catchy component is paired with a really super-literate, emotional element and it's almost perfect. There are violins involved, people. Dancy violins. I don't know either, but it's magical.



I'm really looking forward to Novelin' November. It will be good to have a project to dip my head into for a while. Also, I'm having nightmares about elevators all the time. Like, weekly at least. Last night it was going up up up really fast and the screen that tells you which floor your passing was flashing different numbers and different symbols, it was out of control. It finally slowed enough for me to jump off , but man. Scary stuff. Any analysts out there?

Monday.
erin.

Win/Win

Dear Boston Red Sox,
Do you have some kind of contract with Hollywood? What is your deal? Why do you do these weird and amazing things? Can I have some money? Seriously, just a little?

I'm really happy that last night turned out the way it did. I like the Red Sox a lot, but I'm much more effected by the general population's mood. And today that mood is euphoric because of those dudes, so, go sox!

As for me though, I was not watching the game. I was watching this guy:



I've loved Ben Kweller since 2003. I can pinpoint the moment I fell in love. I was in Union Square in New York and listening to "On My Way" on a sample CD with those giant communal headphones that a bunch of homeless people had probably used before me. He broke into the chorus of "I Need You Back" with a loud yell, I removed the headphones picked up the CD and brought it to the counter. Love at first listen.

So last night my friend Ryan and I squeezed past a bunch of people who shop at Urban Outfitters and found a spot against the bar in the back of the Paradise. Ben was amazing. He has a whole lot of hair and wore a white suit. My only complaint would be that it seemed short, but that's probably because I wanted him to play every song I knew three times.

**edit**
As I was finishing up this blog post my office building had a fire drill. So many stairs. So much temptation to run. Aaaand we're back.

Fun times, and more to come this weekend as Brian and I embark on CUCHI CUCHI BIRTHDAYFEST '08!

holla,
erin

October Babies

First of all, happy birthday to Sue C.! She's New Yorking quite well I hear.

It does seem like a season of birthdays, and as a matter of fact I'll be 27 the next time I write a blog entry. That is,unless I get especially bored and/or inspired sometime over the weekend. To celebrate this special day, Winthrop is holding a Columbus Day parade!



I'm pretty light on plans for the weekend, but perhaps it will afford me sometime to meditate on, you know, aging. Or maybe I'll just plunge myself into a cleaning frenzy. Or outline that novel I'm going to write. Birthdays aren't what they were, are they? Can't I just have a bowling ally party or a tie dye party or something? (note: I did have a tie dye party once and it ruled completely)

These things happen, every year at that! So happy birthday to all my fellow, indecisive, very pretty Libras trying to keep it balanced. Godspeed!

Journeying
Down
Hill
xo
erin

*quick addendum*

Me and Meg
c/o R.W.Petti:

The Frustrations of Being a Completely Unknown Writer

As many of you may know, I am an aspiring writer. Specifically, I'd like to write for television. So, the thing aspiring TV writers do is pick a show they love and write an episode of it, called a spec script. It's essentially a writing sample that shows what you can do.

Earlier this year, I spent a lot of time and effort writing a spec for The Office. I had the idea for a while and finally got it down on paper. The title of the episode I wrote is, "Wellness Challenge" based on the idea that there would be a company-wide incentive for the employees to modify their weight and get in shape. Clearly Michael Scott goes entirely off the deep end and turns the workplace into a "Biggest Loser" type competition. The title of the episode of The Office that aired last week is "Weight Loss".




Although I'm sure the specifics differ quite a bit, essentially, the same exact concept. I haven't seen the episode yet but it's safe to say that all the work I put into creating my spec is out the window. It's useless now because it will look like I copied an existing episode.

Ohhhh, frustration. It was a real good one too. I'll email it to you if you want. You can print it out and use it to wrap my birthday gift or line some kind of pet poop box.

At least I know that it was, indeed, a good idea to start with. And it will also motivate me to write a new one, but not The Office this time.

The Nature of Going, or Not Going, Crazy

by Erin McGhee

This blog is a place for me to talk about comedy shows, and music I love, and life experiences, so I guess this entry will fall into that third category. A little journal-ish, so if you're not interested in vain rambling, smell ya later!

So, I just finished reading my friend Patty's blog about the nature of her happiness, or state of being, and it connected with me in a way.

Does anybody else feel like they've been going quietly insane since, like, elementary school? When my anxiety is particularly high I feel like everyone in the world is watching and judging the decisions I make. Is there such a thing as "Narcissistic Anxiety"? I think I'm coining it, so I get credit if it's ever on Oprah.

The long and short of it is that I am very lucky and thankful for all of the good things in my life, and all of the good people. It's time to be grateful, and not panicky, because as my favorite drama teacher used to say, "what's the worst that can happen?" There might be some yoga and/or Taoist conversion in my near future. I'm starting this new month with a new intention.

I only write all this personal junk in the hopes that someone else might relate and appreciate it in some way. So there's my fleeting stab at sincerity. Being Irish and uncomfortable with emotion, I now offer you this:

He's great.

For your reading enjoyment on a Friday afternoon.

Note the bit about the ven diagram. I love it.

The. Best. Ever.

So as faithful readers will already know, I've been on a wellness kick for the past few months and have lost some weight. This is something I've worked for and am very proud of. Ten pounds, folks, and I'm short so it counts.

Here is the story of yesterday's doctor's appointment:

I walk into the waiting room area at noontime. My appointment is for 12pm. I sit. I wait. It's now 1pm and I ask how long it will be. "Just like...fifteen more minutes," replies the severe looking girl behind the desk. Ok.

Now it's 1:45. I've been gone from work for a very long time and they've moved me to another room. I wait. Finally she comes in. She makes the severe looking girl at the desk seem positively cotton faced. She reviews my chart quietly and then walks over to me, grabs at my stomach and says, "you need to get rid of this. You don't want to look pregnant. I'm sure your boyfriend probably loves you anyway but, really..."

No...see you'd like me to be finished, but I'm not. She follows this up with, "I know you've done some work, but not enough. Do me a favor. Go for a walk."

Yes! I love it. It couldn't be better. Do any of you kind readers remember the "FemHealth" sketch that I wrote for a previous Improv Asylum show? Well, this was more pointed than that. And it is a true story.

It's too zany to get really upset about. I mean, I've lost 10lbs in three months, which is very good and healthy. This woman is out of her mean little mind. And I have a great story.

To your health!
Erin

Emmy!

Well, if you took anything away from the Emmy awards last night it was probably this, "Don't vote."

That was my experience anyway. I love these shows. I love Ricky Gervais and Steve Carell and John Stewart and Stephan Colbert and Steve Martin. Why are so many funny men named Steve? Interesting.

My favorite parts were as follows:

1. Mad Men wins! This show is phenomenal. It's depressing and intricate and totally engrossing. I've probably written about it before on here, but it bears repeating that the universe they've created is kind of magical, never obvious, and always sexy. Yeah Mad Men!

2. Mary Tyler Moore's arms.

3. Tina Fey. Thank you, Tina, for doing everything in the world that I want to do.

You make it easier to identify my own goals. You are a pioneer. Your dress is pretty, and you are a genius.

4. "Was that Josh Groban thing....what was that Josh Groban thing?"

EMMY!
Erin

Lucky

I love Nada Surf so much. I almost forget about them a lot of the time, and then I remember and I remember hard. I don't know if it's indie rock, technically, or something else. But they make powerful, contemplative, gorgeous music that speaks to something absolutely elemental inside me. Why is Nada Surf never on the radio?

Last night (after a big bad delay) I finally bought their latest CD "Lucky". The image on the cover is exactly where I always want to be...



...and the music on the CD makes me feel like I'm there. I like these songs a whole lot, especially "Beautiful Beat" (good call RP), but I know I'll grow to love them a lot as I listen further.

"The Weight is a Gift" and "Let Go" are amazing.

Starter tracks for you to download:
"Do it Again" - The Weight is a Gift
"Paper Boats" - Let Go
"Blonde on Blonde" - Let Go

Anglophilia

My birthday is coming up in October. I know it's too early to think too much about it, but I'm a birthday person. Even if it's not a big old special deal, I like them. I've had one or two complete emotional disaster birthdays, but usually when I'm not forced to go to someone else's surprise party and deal with the fact that no one there knows that it's my birthday too(I love you Steve Moreau, don't get me wrong), it's a regular hoot.

This year, I want this. Absolutely I am this dorky. I'm head over heels in love with Masterpiece Theater, and all of the Jane Austen adaptations make me so happy.



I used to be much more of a dark, brooding, Gothic, Bronte girl-- but no more. I mean, I still love Jane Eyre more than any other book, but I don't think I have the constitution to experience so much vicarious angst anymore. I'm too old or something. Maybe I'll come back around to the heavy, sad, JeffBuckleyisthonlythingIlistento place inside myself. But now..oh now I really like reading Emma and watching Sense and Sensibility for the twenty seventh time.

Are you bored yet? Excellent. So, that's my birthday wish. Lots of pretty dresses and curled hair, and tea, and sitting rooms, and riding boots. I am fully self aware, and I know how gross I sound, so you don't need to give me a heads up on that.

Tonight, we have yet another sketchshop at IA at 10pm. I might do something musical of marginal quality -- don't miss it!!

Your affectionate friend,
Erin

Action Autumn

So, I have been not-a-teacher for over a year now. I am glad of this in a 95% way. I was attracted to the profession in the first place, after all. I like school. I love new notebooks and syllabi and all that other crap that reasonable people hate.



(Like Anne Shirley)

September this year is reminding me of the good times instead of the bad. Last year whenever I saw a "Kohl's Back To School Sale!" commercial it put me in fight or flight mode (also known as RHSPTSS, Revere High School Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.)This year, however, I don't so much mind the commercials and the sales. I actually feel a bit of nostalgia for teaching. This little sadness was aided very much by a show that we recently did at Concord Academy for incoming freshman. This school is ridiculous. They serve what Jeremy described as "the most delicious roasted chicken I've ever had" in the cafeteria. Also, the performing arts space nicer than the professional theater for which I work. All for high school kids. Crazytown.

But just seeing those freshman and knowing what unbelievable possibility and opportunity they have in front of them...it gave me very mixed emotions. But the dinner was great.

Things are nuts. My lovely friend Renee is getting married on Saturday. Only for her, I tell you, would I wear a purple dress and ride a chair lift in heels. That's love, folks. Renee is the best, and she deserves the best, so here's hoping for sunny weather.

I'm up to my eyeballs in everything at the moment, but coke zero still tastes good, the air outside is invigorating, and hopefully the fluorescent light that keeps going intermittently on and off over my desk will be fixed soon.

Action Autumn!
Erin

Shh

Last night I was so exhausted that I started to fall asleep shortly after 7pm. I had to force my eyes to stay open until about 8:45 at which time I fell into a coma-like sleep. There were no drugs involved in this, I'm just tired. I mean, I'm so tired. Still. I came in to work very early this morning to chip away at the mountain of work that has been building up around me and that felt great. I was bursting with energy from 7am-11 or so and then...crash city.



Maybe forcing myself to go to the gym more often will improve my energy levels. Maybe once things get cleared up in work I won't feel the need to curl up into a nap-ball so often, who knows.

Does anyone have any tips on how to not be completely exhausted all the time?

I don't care what you think, I miss the Olympics,
Erin

Musing on Fashion

I was just thinking about this this morning:



Man, she was cool. I went through a phase where all I wanted to do was dress in long, patterned flowy skirts and blazers. But I was in elementary school so things didn't really work out for me. There was a brief, ill-fated affair with vests, but that was it. Oh, Elaine.

Anatomy of an Obsession

I'm coming to grips with a strange, possibly unhealthy obsession that I've been in the process of developing over the last year. I can't stop watching "real life" paranormal shows. Last night was a relatively rare night off. In the best case scenario that means that I'm indulging in 94% fat free microwave popcorn (thanks for ruining my life, weight watchers), and watching a)Anthony Bourdain do anything b)Masterpiece Theatre or c)Some real life ghost show that will prevent me from sleeping for a week.

In order of my personal preference they are
1. Paranormal State


2. Most Haunted (only really found On Demand - Travel Channel)


3. Ghost Hunters International


4. Ghost Hunters


I scour the cable listings to see if one of these beauties might be on. I check On Demand every other day to see if there are any new episodes of Most Haunted that I haven't seen yet. And when I find one, I sit, petrified, until it's over. Then I look for another one.

I once received an email from Ryan of "Paranormal State" fame, and I nearly shat. I felt like I had received correspondence from Justin Timberlake or Margaret Thatcher or something.

I don't know what it is about these shows that I find so fascinating and addictive. I just want to see a damn chair move by itself, or some team member freak the hell out, or perhaps medium Chip Coffey say something sassy and psychic. He is both sassy and psychic, by the way.

And then I go to bed. And if at 2am I have to pee...no way. I'm to scared to even move because I keep thinking about that 16th century chambermaid with blood on her apron screaming to be saved from the other side. I know she's probably not in my bath tub, but I'm not taking a chance.

Unhealthy, I told you, I know. But I love it. I want to hang out with the ghost hunters, even the douchey tech-guy ones.

So that's something about me you maybe didn't know. Also, I've been eating "Lays Light" chips every day with lunch. They're only 1pt on Weight Watchers, but I'm pretty sure olestra can kill you, right? So, if I don't get attacked by a wayward spirit, I'll surely be killed by the fake chips. I'm in great shape guys, nobody worry.

Boo!,
Erin

The Very Nice Upside

In the re-reading that last post seems terrifically dour, and it's actually quite a good day. So an update.

I took a walk at lunch -- something I haven't done in a very long time -- because it's actually perfect outside. I mean it. If every single day could be like this day climate-wise, I'd be the happiest Bostonian in the world. The Public Gardens were filled with lots of braided little girls, tiny roving tribes of rich people's dogs being walked by not so rich people, awesome fat baby with fat baby faces, and a decided lack of crazies. A really nice walk.

Also, Winky Cucumberpants was too busy to sexually harass me at Subway today, so that rocked too.



Late summer!
xo
Erin

The Hallmark Cat and Me

This is my favorite coffee mug at work.



It reads, "I'm only doing this job to keep myself busy between films."

Some days my coffee tastes like regret and self loathing.

Also,

And on an unrelated note: We're in full swing production for our new Improv Asylum show and we had a long, very productive rehearsal last night. Some of the sketches people are coming up with are really hilarious, and I can't wait until we put the final product together. It should be a fun show.
Fun!

Daily Degradation c/o Subway

Time: Lunch
Location:



Morbidly obese employee possibly of Latin American descent with pubescent moustache and gap tooth: What you want?

Me: Lettuce, tomato, cucumber....

Morbidly obese employee possibly of Latin American descent with pubescent moustache and gap tooth: You want cucumber?

[He fiddles his tightly gloved fingers in the cucumber cubby]

Me: Yes. Please.

Morbidly obese employee possibly of Latin American descent with pubescent moustache and gap tooth: You want cucumber?

[He looks at me and licks pubescent moustache]

Me: Yes.

Morbidly obese employee possibly of Latin American descent with pubescent moustache and gap tooth: You want cucumber?

[He makes twitch winky face at me. I look back at the seven thousand and fifteen people behind me. They're thrilled.]

Me: Yes! Yes I want cucumber!

Morbidly obese employee possibly of Latin American descent with pubescent moustache and gap tooth: Haha okay.


Whatever. I ate the shit out of that sandwich.

Two Boys One Bench

I Love 1994.

Yesterday I woke up, did dishes for a half hour (it was a serious situation) and then dyed my hair. Big time. As a casual or devoted reader of this blog, you musn't under-estimate the obvious impact that My So-Called Life has had on my development. I mean, it makes a referential appearance in one out of four entries (math is fabricated). And in that vein, I have to tell you proudly that my hair is Angela Chase Red.

No one's mentioned anything at the office yet...I think it might be off-putting in a fluorescent light kind of way. I've had my hair this color once before, and I forgot how much I liked it.

Also, I've discovered Mad Men on AMC. Watch this show. It's as involving as everyone has told you it would be. Also, down 8lbs on WW! Hey-o.

Chicago in 6 days!!
love,
erin

A Serious Coors Light Rant

First of all, I sat down on the Green Line today in what smelled like an Italian Sub. There was no actual deli sandwich, just the sure footed smell of meat, cheese and oil. I used to blog a lot about public transportation because that's what is usually on my mind when I get in the office. I've tried to move away from that for fear of being too mundane, but today I share.

This morning as we were driving to the station Brian and I heard a Coors Light commercial. Something about "code blue". Cool guys being dudes apparently call and text each other at 5pm once they reach a watering hole to communicate the message "code blue" (translation: I'm about to drink a Coors Light and it's so cold that the label has turned blue. You better get here and drink with me. Maybe we'll make out a little bit later.) Very cool. One part of the commercial is a girlfriend character who laments, "We were shopping and he got a call and just left. What could be more important than shopping???".

At that point Brian turned to me and said, "Coors Light makes women look like idiots." Yes. Yes. Yes. It's something that I've always kind of just noted and forgotten about, but it's really rampant in all of their advertising. You can tell that their demographic is the WBCN in sports coats type. I mean, everybody makes fun of these people -- including themselves, I believe, but Coors Light still manufactures these retarded commercials to appeal to the "dude."

Have you heard the spot where the guys are gathered in order to "vent"? See..it's this brilliant play on words wherein "venting" to women means emotional output (usually associated with being sooooo on the rag), and "venting" to these guys means cracking open an ice cold Coors Light. Oh man, do they raise satire to a new high. You can actually hear the douche juice drip from their voices as they wink wink "vent" and say "my wife actually encourages me to...(wait for it, voice is heavy with thinly masked hilarity)....open up!!" [sound of beer opening].

What the fuck? The thing that's dumb enough to think these ads are funny died in his mother's womb. His mother was a one eyed German Shepherd with dementia.


Note to anyone still making comedy, or creating advertising copy based on the Todd Packer (American Office) character should know that Todd Packer isn't a real person. And actually, they're not making females look like idiots, they're making men look like idiots by the assumption than anyone that has skill enough to realize that pants go on legs think it's funny or cute. It's just dumb. So dumb. Heartbreakingly dumb.



Okay...see you Monday!!
Love,
erin

I Live in ATree

Super homeless Erin and Richie on his iphone. Enjoy!

The Red Head Said You Shred the Cello

Oh Pinkerton. Why? Why did I not know that you were my favorite CD until a week ago? Guys, why didn't anyone tell me that this was my favorite CD? I don't understand.

Anyway, good morning Friday!
Last Sunday a woman named Alison Royer took me to what I thought was an introductory yoga class. I thought this because Alison is ostensibly my friend and knows that I've never done yoga before.


(this is what the class felt nothing like)

What this class actually was was a two hour long advanced, intense workshop for people who are specifically not me. So, I'm only now starting to walk normally. There's still a great amount of pain. I call that pain "Alison" so I don't forget.

I'm writing a lot which is going really well and making me feel far less useless than I would otherwise. Also, I want to see Batman. Like, you know, America.

Any fun weekend plans? No? Come and see a show at Improv Asylum. It makes it more fun when I know someone in the audience.

Love,
Erin

Awkward Moments on a Bench

What happens when you put Richie Moriarty on a bench? It's a question for the ages, really. Well get ready for the answer:



We spent one very long, very fun day filming a bunch of these little vignettes, so do enjoy. There will be more to come. One may or may not feature me living inside a tree.

Speaking of trees, man, I wanted pizza yesterday. I mean, it's all I looked forward to all day. And then we got to Bertucci's ...where the AC was broken. I know God probably didn't mean anything personal by this, but it sure felt that way. On an unrelated note, I'm becoming an atheist.

Love,
erin

Oprah Said To Be Grateful

Sometimes on a Monday morning, when you haven't slept soundly the previous night, and the thought of doing any kind of work or activity sends a searing pain squarely through your soul...you should make a grateful list. Here is the positive thinking fueled Monday morning grateful list.

1. Meg, Mom, and I had a fantastic time in the Berkshires. James Taylor may be old, but he's still adorable and I absolutely don't care if it's lame -- I'm a huge fan. My sister was the blackest person there, granted, but it was still a happy, happy time for all.

2. I finalized a script I'd been working on yesterday and I'm really happy with it. I'm beginning to get more comfortable with Final Draft.

3. I'm 7 lbs down as of today! Go WW!


The long weekend was truly fabulous. I met a lot of really interesting, great people, spent a lot of quality family time, and even achieved some personal goals. It actually felt more like a vacation than anything I've had since April '06. Yup, that's right. I haven't had a vacation in over two years. So, any bit of reprieve is super appreciated.

I hope your holiday was as awesome as mine -- and Mr. Schaub, good luck today. I know you won't read this, but I'm sending good vibes out into the universe on your behalf.

Monday!
Erin

Back to the Present

A weekend blog post? Oh yes.

I'm doing everything humanly possible to procrastinate cleaning my apartment. It's a great apartment but at this moment it's a dirty, dirty apartment. Dust bunny dirty. The madness stops here.

So, what the hell is going on with VH1? "I Love the New Millenium"? Really? I've seen from 2004-2005 this morning and I'm wondering, are they going to go all the way up to 2008? And then it just turns into Best Week Ever and implodes into itself?



I mean, I'm not not nostalgic for Jared the Subway Guy, Dance Dance Revolution, and the advent of Sodoku, it just seems symptomatic of something wrong in our society. I don't know precisely what it is...but it has to do with detachment. On the other hand, I guess by virtue of the fact that I write a blog and am involved in comedy I probably have nothing legitimate to say about it.

Something else I've learned from watching cable TV today -- Amy Grant is a Christian pop star now. Huh. Time Life is selling a Christian music compilation and all of the artists are wearing hair clips and aggressively shoulder padded blazers. No judgies. Okay, just a little judgy.

Swiffer time. Have a great weekend!

Dr. GOD and Teasing

Tonight at Improv Asylum isn't just any Thursday night at Improv Asylum. Why? Because my awesome friend Sean is in Boston with his team from IO West Dr. God.

Refresh your senses with some new improvisational faces. Drink Coors Light because it's a Thursday. Clap. Laugh. Etc.

They go on at 10pm, be there!

In other news, sorry about the lack of posts lately (I apologize as though somebody really misses them). Things are happening and decisions are on the verge of being made, plans planned, slacks mended. I just don't want to speak too soon about things that effect actual life.

I'll have more fun stuff to report soon. Teaser: A smooth jazz Latin concert, a terrifying high school graduate, and some delicious grilled salmon all have to do with it. Now that you're absolutely sweating balls from anticipation, I'll sign off.

Love you!
Erin

Dad, Progress, and the Tonys

On Sunday night we took my dad out to Uno's for Father's Day. It might be in Revere, and a national chain, but it's actually one of my favorite places to go with my family. For some reason, we always have a great time there. Is it the tall Newcastles? The many TVs? The squawking, heavily lipsticked North Shore bartend-ress? I don't know, but it works for us. My dad is the best. I actually don't even want to hear about how great your dad is, because mine's got it wrapped up. Sorry. Polls are closed.

Just in this past week, he's saved my ass a hundred and three times by taking care of my car situation. I know I'm a grown woman and should be able to handle these things myself, but it just got to be a little too frustrating. My dad has a way of talking to people (mechanics, et al) and making them like him immediately. If he wasn't such a genuinely good human being, he'd be one hell of a politician. Everyone who knows Billy loves him, and for good reason. If there's one person in the world I'd like to be like, it's him.

One of the three million reasons why my dad is so awesome: He found my blog and what he commented on and loved the most was this picture, featured in the "Double Fat Latte" entry

It just cracked him up. As it cracks me up. So I posted it again.

On the fat/notfat note, I had a successful WW week (that'll be the abbreviation for Weight Watchers from now on). For those of you who care, or are going through the program yourself, I'm down 1.1 lb since last week. I'm thrilled with this, especially because of the Great Smith and Wollensky Splurge of '08 that happened last Wednesday. So, Yeah!

Sunday night was not just Father's Day night, it was also the Tony Awards. That's right, the one night a year that I bemoan ever leaving New York and wish that I didn't transfer out of Emerson's acting program.
(August: Osage County...wanna see it)

It was all for the best, I'm sure, but watching those Tonys...man, it makes me jealous. Also, it makes me feel really poor because I'd love to head down to NY on a whim and see these awesome looking shows but I can't for want of a spare billion dollars. And nights off.

Lastly, Dear Celtics:
Please win tonight so that Brian doesn't throw himself out a window.
Love,
Erin

"You're Crazy"

As some of you who actually read this blog may remember, I was writing a book. I mean, I still am writing a book, things just seem kind of paused for the Summer. I submitted the first twenty five pages or so to the Breadloaf Writer's Conference just for giggles -- I was actually late in submitting it, but they took it anyway. I kind of just wanted somebody else to read it I think, no fee involved, so what the hell. They wrote me a very kind rejection letter stating that my work "scored very highly with the judges" and that I would be put on a priority waiting list if anyone dropped out. I'm actually pretty happy with that! Being wait-listed is that half step up from rejection that makes all the difference. I don't think I'd actually be able to go or anything, but fun anyway!

I think that I kind of have an issue with big goals. I'm always making them. It seems like I can't be contented unless there's something tremendous that I'm trying to do. These are the big goals on the burner right now:

* Novel
* Fitness overhaul
* Creating a two person show with a particular fun lady
* Getting my act together and figuring out whether Chicago/LA is in the future and if so - when and how (I'll be turning 94 soon, and it might be time to get cracking).

The danger with multiple big goals is that you can't do everything at once. The following is a true story.

Kurt Vonnegut and I spent the same semester at Smith College, that lauded all girl institution where there is absolutely no lesbian sexual tension. I don't know if it was the weirdo "I'm a male" vibes that he gave out or what, but no one went to see him during his office hours. Yup, that's right. Kurt Vonnegut had open office hours at Smith and hardly anyone knocked on his office door.

I didn't have anything good to show him, but I felt like everyone back at Emerson would literally never speak to me again if they knew that I didn't' take advantage of the situation. So I mocked up some mediocre fiction and went to visit the man. He was old and smokey and smart, and just as tired of Northampton and Smith as I was. We only chatted about my writing for a little while (he advised me to kill a main character, which would have been smart since the piece was sentimental and pretty gross). But we mainly talked about just...stuff. He asked me why I had left Emerson and I told him how I wanted more academics, then he asked me how I liked Smith and I told him that I wanted more creativity, and this is how the conversation went on. He paused for a moment and finally looked up at me and said, "You're crazy."

Okay. Hm?

"You want to do everything all at one time and it's impossible. You can't. No one can. You've got to make up your mind about what you want to do first and then do it. Then when you're done you can do the next thing."

He also said, "Go back to Emerson. No. Run. Run as fast as your legs can take you."

And before I left, "Be good. Don't talk to strangers."

We only met two or three times, but that was probably one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me. He was a really wise, funny man, with a fair share of sadness and troubles. Maybe that's why all the smoking.

So, today, as I remain overwhelmed with my different wants and goals, I try to remember Mr. Vonnegut and that I'm crazy to try to do everything all at once. One at a time. Go easy, take a breath and conquer the world by taking tiny steps.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good:

The thing I'm happiest about right now is that I just finished my first week on Weight Watchers (the online program) and I lost 3.5 lbs. I know that's probably super personal or something, but I feel like this is a very important thing I'm doing for myself and I'm proud, dammit. Lots of veggies, lots of balsamic vinegar, lots of fish and lean chicken, and of course, my new favorite thing -- the nonfat iced latte. Am I boring you? Probably. Okay, moving on...

Also good, Improv Asylum held its 10th anniversary party on Saturday night!
So much fun. The best part about these parties are the things that people create to celebrate the event. We saw genius video sketches by Evan, Doug, and Kiley, adorably funny song parodies by the staff and the NXT, Jeremy's take on Ikea, and a really lovely presentation by Stacey and Chris. It was almost a little tear-jerky sometimes, I have to say. Nights like that really make you feel like you're part of a family, and it also reminds you that Evan is going to be the most successful out of all of us. Seriously. Once he posts his video online, I'll give a link. He's hilarious.

Also good, oh the beach! The walkable beach that's right by my house! We had so much fun yesterday. You can swim in the ocean, it's really clean enough! Big time points for Winthrop.


The Bad:
I'm utterly unfit to own a vehicle. Brian and I almost stressexploded this morning because the car stalled and would not start right as we were about to enter a car wash. Luckily my mom was nearby and saved the day. Still being saved by my mom. I'm 26, by the way. Anyhow, it's in the shop and I finally got to work. God bless the understanding kindness of my company.



The Ugly:
You should see the sunburn on this Irish American idiot. Holy God. SPF, please.

There Will Be Bulimia

So, my first thought was, "Oh, what jerks."

A bunch of prissy future dance teachers making a stab at the big time...right? Maybe. But self delusion and pug nosed entitlement notwithstanding, I'm in this one for the long haul.



Last night we met the 10 contestants who will jazz square and elbow their way to the Broadway stage in the role of Elle Woods. Some of them are adorable. Some are predictably vacant. Some are really really frigging scary.



I'm so excited. And so sorry for all of the hard working New York actors who didn't get cast because of this wacky experiment.

Mother's Day

My mom and I had a day-long date yesterday. I had bought her tickets to see History Boys at the BCA for her birthday, so yesterday we made a whole day of it. She hardly ever takes public transportation and was mildly horrified by the blue line, as most humans are.

It should be noted that my mother is tiny. Like a tiny little tiny person from tinyland. She's a teacher and has the sprightliness of an elementary school girl, and a very big smile. And she's extremely white, fashion wise. One would describe her style as "Cape Cod" or "Explorations in Pastel Plaid". It's kind of adorable, especially when she's thrown into sharp relief by the dingy pessimism of public transport.

The first stop was Downtown Crossing - to Macy's so that she could buy some Clinique makeup that she wanted. As we walked down Washington Street, mom was again mildly horrified.

"This used to be the center of the city," she said as she looked over the rotten, picked-away carcass of Filenes. But soon we made it safely to the makeup counter, and all was well. It seems like Clinique is always having a special bonus promotion. It makes it a little less "special" I guess, but nobody argues with a free tote bag, and mini bottles of that wonderful, yellow moisturizer.

The day was gorgeous, as those of you in New England know. One of those rare, comfortable, sunnynotmuggy days that we get four or no times a year. Mom and I walked through the city, from State Street to the South End. As we strolled into the South End, my mother was immediately charmed by the neat flower box stoops and sidewalk dining. She's been to this area of town before, of course, but not on a perfect day like yesterday. I was taken off guard by how lovely it was as well. Upon reaching the BCA we decided to have a bite to eat and stopped at The Beehive. I would like to describe the grilled cheese sandwich that we split there, but words escape me. I'm not being overly dramatic. It was the best sandwich of my lifetime. The bread, the cheese, the tomato...and granted I was very hungry, but this surpassed all other snacks in deliciousness. Go there. Get the grilled cheese. Try to tell me I'm wrong. I am still adhering to my diet, sticklers, portion control is everything.

The show was fantastic. Really great. I could pick it apart, but I'm in the mood to make sweeping generalizations instead and focus on the good stuff. History Boys is interesting and well written, but it was the boys themselves that made the experience so worthwhile.
From reading the program it seems like many of them are just local guys in college, which was surprising. They were adorable, funny, and many times heart breaking. I want them all to date my sister. Even the gays.

We walked back to the blue line after our long day of shopping, talking, theater going, eating, and generally being insufferably female. It was wonderful. It made me realize that I should spend more time with my mom because, quite frankly, she's about the best person I know. And she's SO little.

Double Fat Latte

My principles are much more lax than those of my little sister, so I took her Starbucks gift card when it was offered to me. I'm sure there are really important, relevant reasons why I shouldn't patronize Starbucks, but sadly at this turn in life a few weeks of free coffee seem much more important than abstract objections.

I know a lot of you probably boycott Starbucks and it begs the question, why? Please, be specific. Is it that they're the amazon.com of coffee? Or is it more serious...like child labor laws serious? I know they take good care of their employees (at least the in-store, bespectacled twenty somethings that use the company for health insurance and their wages for art supplies). Until I get a good solid reason, I'm going to use this gift card until it runs dry. Then go back to Dunkin Donuts.

In a completely unrelated turn, I had my first physical in eight years yesterday. Yup, eight years. Why? Because the last time the doctor called me fat. Which, you know, I kind of was, but it still wasn't very kind.
Basically, I put my health at risk for nearly a decade to avoid an unpleasant conversation about my diet. Great. So, now I've downgraded to a little chubby and I had more confidence walking in. She was actually very nice and gave me some good pointers about what to eat. My heart's healthy and I don't smoke now, so she loved all that.

She made another appointment with me in four months and said that I should try to lose a pound a week. She kept saying, "You are so pretty, I want to see you beautiful." I'm not taking it the wrong way this time, though. I'm only a little overweight now and it's totally do-able. I'm going to the gym, so I just have to stop eating tons of crap food (goodbye Dominos cheesy bread...I'll always love you.)So, if you see me abstaining from pizza or fried oreos, you'll know why. Wish me luck!

This is going to be me in four months...if the gift card doesn't run out.

Being Green

This week has been crazy, and not in funtimes crazy way. I promise to start blogging (and working, and improvising, and existing, generally) better next week.



Three day weekend, fools!

Dasariski was amazing. I need a workshop like that every week. They were easily the nicest guys in the world, too, which is a treat.

I'm going to go out for some pizza after work and win $25,000 in a California Pizza Kitchen promotional contest.

Happy Long Weekend!
Erin

That's Risky

All Mass dwelling improv dorks will want to be in or around Improv Asylum this weekend because we're hosting Craig Cackowski, Bob Dassie, and Rich Talarico (Dasariski) for a Friday 8pm show and workshops on Saturday. I believe the public workshop starts at 1pm and is $125. Sign up!



Although I've never seen the three of these guys perform together, I was lucky enough to catch Bob Dassie and his wife Stephanie Weir (MadTV) perform their two person show Weirdass at the Del Close Festival a few years back and they were phenomenal. Like, some of the best improv I've ever seen, phenomenal. Stephanie Weir is one of those women who just own everything on stage. She's effortless and brilliant. I'd love it if she were coming to town too, but I'd probably get over-nervous and make a fool of myself.

But anyway, Dasariski. Brian has seen these guys and still talks about the show in detail as being the best he's seen. I'm very excited! It often feels like we're in a bit of a vaccum here in Boston, and it will be surpassingly refreshing to see some new, totally fresh, talented folks do their thing.

This Friday, 8pm! Bring your little sisters.