No Goat

It wasn't always raining. I really do have specific memories of days, this Spring even, that were sunny and dry. I want to be outside today, but in the weather of some previous, sunny day. I actually would really like to go hiking.

If you're my mother and you're reading this, you're a very petite, intelligent public school teacher. Also, you're shaking your head and picturing me at six years old, terrified and furious on a rickety bridge attraction at Storyland. There was a lot of anxiety involved with that specific rickety bridge. I remember, very clearly, having the thought "This bridge is poorly constructed. I'm going to fall and die and I don't understand why my parents are encouraging me to walk across this bridge, which is clearly...rickety."

The fact that the "rickety" part was supposed to be the "fun" part escaped me completely. It just seemed like a trick to kill dumb kids. That day, in having a good laugh at my difficulty on said bridge, my dad remarked "she's no goat!"

And, oh man, did that stick. You know how you get labeled as being really good or really bad at something when you're a kid and it becomes woven into your identity? Well, for years and years I negative self-talked myself out of any situation that would require the physical dexterity to climb or balance on something. Those years of gymnastics classes were great, by the way.

In the beginning of this summer, however, I was asked to go for a hike and, feeling empowered and trusting that my companion was a specifically non-judgmental individual, I said yes. We went up to the Blue Hills and started walking. True, I thought I was going to die in the first 15 minutes, but then it leveled out a bit. It was actually a pretty challenging trail (we thought we took the easy one...we were wrong)but I handled it well. It was such a feeling of accomplishment to succeed at doing something that I'd kind of assumed I'd be terrible at. A really great day. Maybe the best day of the year for me so far.



I did freak out once, but it was because we saw a mouse. Then I promptly realized that a mouse belongs in the forest, and I kind of don't. So...you know, get over it.
I'm still no goat, but I'm also not a nerve-wracked six year old at Storyland, which is an upgrade.

So I'd like to go on a hike today. Or go to Storyland.

Of Saturday, Sunday, and Beer Can Trophys

I feel compelled to break the mold a little bit here and do a kind of standard weekend recap type of thing. Why? Because it was awesome.

During the day on Saturday I went to Improv Boston to see the premier of Michelle Barbera and Jacob Lipcon's pilot Our Living Blue Planet.


It was completely fantastic. Featuring lots and lots of the funniest people I know and months and months of really hard work, this show is not to be missed. It was a lovely afternoon. There was even lemonade. There were even babies! Really cute ones. Just, I mean, how else would you want to spend a Saturday?

From there, the Bastards packed up and we drove off to Providence, RI for the Providence Improv Festival. We got a nice 8pm slot in a little space called The Speakeasy and got to watch our New Hampshire compatriots Stranger Than Fiction do a very fun short form set before we went on. The audience was lovely, and we had a killer time. Just being jerks, doing scenes, it was the most fun.

This year at the improv festival, Mauro and the gang made it New England exclusive, and added in a competitive component. The top six groups (who could make it the next day) were announced that night and both Bastards and our cousin group (I think we've decided that's what we are to each other) Three Hole Punch were asked to return on Sunday. We were first up at 7pm and had lots of fun on stage for our 15 minute semi-final slot. Our "round" came to a close and we were asked, based on audience vote, to stay for the finals.

Three Hole Punch had a great set featuring some very savvy ski ball playing, and Improv Jones who were hosting the festival did some very exciting, fast scene work.

The final performances were a blast. Just such good energy, such a great theater, such an excited crowd. Ryan and Tucker played a surgically conjoined assistant stylist, that's pretty much what I'm taking away from the show and holding in my heart forever. So we "won" the festival! (?) I don't know if you can really "win" a festival, but it was a great time and an true pleasure to meet so many great folks, see a lot of outstanding improv, and eat Cuban sandwiches.

Thanks Providence, Mauro, Improv Jones, and my gorgeous Bastards.

Love 'em

The kids in the back are the BEST.

I found the PS22 channel on Youtube and I'm absolutely transfixed. These kids are magical.

Happy Paper

Sick of baking in that hot sun?

Well, while the physically manifested cloud of our collective discontent hovers overhead, allow me to poke some holes in the dismal by introducing you to Gus & Ruby.



My friend Samantha and her biz-partner Whitney have started their own business in New Hampshire making very pretty paper things. Gus and Ruby are the names of their respective puppies. I love the idea of two smart, creative women figuring out what makes them happy and just DOING it. And look at their stuff! Is it just me, or can nothing brighten your day like gorgeous paper? Maybe that's just me. But I love browsing through their site and reading about their adventures in indie paper-making. Inspiring!

And if you take a look through their links you'll find a bunch of other amazing independent businesses creating gorgeous things and making a living off of them. Pardon the cliche (or don't, and never forgive me for it. Snub me in public for it, if you must, I understand.)but it's kind of the American Dream, isn't it?

So, it begs the question. Who wants to move someplace rural and start a business with me? My skills include* good high fives, cutting bangs, growing out bangs, writing stupid crap, and compassion.

But honestly, if you need wedding invitations, birth announcements, business cards, or special parchment upon which to write me a love letter, check out Gus&Ruby.

Love, paper, and rain boots,
Erin

*I paused for no fewer than ten minutes trying to think of what I could conceivably have as a marketable skill. So much education, so little ability to knit.

Running Without Puking

Hey world,

Happy rainy Monday! If you're as excited as I am then you're probably asleep too.

It was a busy, strange weekend that entailed a graduation party with lots of relatives, lots of 22 year olds (my sister and her friends are awesome), a concert, rain, ugly MBTA rudeness, and a very nice Father's Day. Also, abject poverty. My own.

A mixed bag indeed! But one thing that's been a constant good is the fact that I'm back on the fitness wagon. Summer, albeit grey and damp, has been a kind of inspiration for me and so I have signed back up for Weight Watchers and just completed my first week. Also, I've re-committed to the gym - this time with an actual goal. A little googling for "learning how to jog" brought me this link

Looks simple enough! Although, I've never ever been able to run in my life, I'm going to give this an honest shot. I've already started and so far so good (knocking on wood). The last time I ran a mile was in middle school. I ran fast! And hard! I finished in about 8 minutes! And then threw up everywhere and didn't feel right for a few hours. So, taking it slow. Very very slow.



Hopefully in 10 weeks I'll be able to run a 5k. It's worth a shot! I'm exclamation mark heavy today. Overcompensating for general malaise, I think. Now I'm going to count the quarters in my pocket to see if I can afford Subway -- THANKS SALLIE MAE!!!!!!!!!!

See you on the T, smile please,
Erin

Jillian and ED: or Please God No

Most Monday nights will find me in front of the TV yelling things like "NO! STOPPIT! SHUT UP! IDIOT! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOUR FACE!"

I'm a Bachelorette fan.

I will direct you to Ms. Selena Coppock's blog for full background and a run down of the season thus far. She goes into all the gory details that I haven't the stomach to re-live.

One might wonder, why blog about this now, Erin? The answer is that last night on the show, a line was crossed that I've never seen crossed before. The Bachelorette dropped the ED bomb.

(ED, the guy.)
No not Ed, the attractive Tech. Consultant from Chicago who chose to leave the show because his job at home was in jeopardy. ED. Erectile Dysfunction.

Let me explain.

It's customary in the later episodes, as said Bachelorette is nearing the end of her ill-advised journey and narrowing her choices for future ex-husband, that there are "overnight dates". Yes, this is just exactly as gross as it sounds. She essentially spends the night with two or three different guys (in the course of a week)to explore the more intimate parts of the perspective future ex-husband relationship.

Personally, I can't wrap my head around this, but America seems to think it's A-OK.

So, at the end of last night's episode in the "Later this season, on The Bachelorette..." teaser, they set it up. To summarize...

"on their overnight date in the fantasy suite, what happens when a certain one of our bachelors encounters a certain problem"...WAH WAH WAAAAHHHH *clown nose honk noise*

Cut to Bachelorette Jillian in tears (again):
"I can't believe this happened. With the one person where everything seemed perfect!"

Has this level of intrusion and embarrassment ever occurred on television before? They're going to broadcast some poor dope's impotence on national TV. I am blown away. And America watches. And so do I.


So, clearly, we all have to tune in. I hate myself. I hate The Bachelorette. I love The Bachelorette.


Also, just realized it's Bloomsday. Which exists, essentially, on the opposite end of the cultural spectrum. Oh, life in the aughts! So kaleidoscopic and gorgeous!

Chick Magnet

This year I participated in my first 48 hour film project, and I was very very lucky to work with the geniuses of World From Scratch Productions (Jim and Rheri Kenney). It was a last minute thing for me, just about 30 minutes of work, which is dwarfed by the gigantic amount of time, effort, and talent poured into this little film by the rest of the crew and cast.

They made something lovely, and I'm so happy to be even a teeny, iddy-biddy part of it. Last night they held the "Best of" screening. Aforementioned geniuses Jim and Rheri won for Best Editing and the extraordinarily talented Ryan Petti took the "Best Performance" award...certificate...thing.

Here's the link I love it. So much.

Chick Magnet from Jim Kenney on Vimeo.

A Little Amazed

I think a work of art is supposed to mark you, probably. In some way make you consider a thing, or bunches of things, in a different light. Sometimes maybe a work of art is just supposed to be a mirror, or maybe sometimes it's supposed to drop your jaw. This documentary checked off all the above boxes for me.



You may have seen this, or heard about this, or been to Broadway and sat in the audience during the musical adaptation of this. Or maybe you have no idea what the deal is here. But Grey Gardens is the documentation of two women -- a mother and daughter -- as they reach the psychological/economic bottom after a very long topple for the upper strata of American aristocracy.

The documentary, as I mentioned, has been made into a musical, which is good. But having now seen the source material, I can't believe how much more effective the raw footage is without the musical numbers and planned comedic interludes.

Do you think my costume was alright for Brooks? I think he was a little amazed.
Cameraman: I think he's probably seen it before...
Oh no, this is the revolutionary costume. I never wear it in East Hampton...



Little Edie (above)is an absolute fascination and I could listen to her and watch her forever. Apparently an HBO adaptation has come out starring Drew Barrymore. I'm confused. But who knows, maybe it'll be brilliant.

Anyhow, go rent the documentary. Best with Laughing Cow Cheese, red wine, and thoughtful company.
xo
Erin

Positively Thursday

Some days have a shine to them. A feeling of positive connectedness that isn't really something you can readily touch or define. Of course, on the flip side some days are like the inside of a cat-lady's toilet, and that seems to be what we talk about more often. It's so much easier to share negative experiences and collective pains in the collective ass. But yesterday, or last night more specifically, happened to be the former. It had a nice shine to it.

I always have a fun time on Thursday nights. Our Bastards Inc. shows are a highlight of my week and I'm really fulfilled and happy with the way we're working. Last night, however, seemed to have a little something extra. We hosted short form improv group Flaming Awesome and the lovely stand-up comedian Maria Ciampa - both of whom frequent our stage, but both acts seemed very new and filled with dynamic energy.


It was thrilling to watch FA play really hard and smart and with a new confidence.

And Maria, oh man, she killed.

I think I'd heard some of her material before, but it felt like the first time. I was crying laughing and squirming all at the same time. She was brilliant.

I was especially excited about the way our Bastards set went. As I said, it's always fun and I'm almost always fighting to keep a straight face. Matt, Ryan, and Taylor are pretty much the most skilled and original improvisers I know (no offense to you other wonderful people who may be reading. You're tops!) Last night it felt very much like we were all on this same, big, weird page, and I left the theater feeling positively lifted up.

It's just so nice when you have a night like that. Now we're writing some sketches for our upcoming sketch show, and I'm exercising another part of my brain. It's a good, creative time.

Tell me about the good creative things that you're doing. And at the risk of sounding like a desk calendar from HR, choose to think about things that make you happy today. They are there, I guarantee you, you might just have forgotten about them. Especially if your cubicle smells like the inside of a cat lady's toilet.


With love, and apparently in danger of turning into some kind of hippie,
Erin

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?

Dear friendlies,

This feels a lot like tip-toeing back into a room you shouldn't have left or something...but hi! Are you still there?



Please pardon the radio silence as life is life and it does what it does, sometimes kind of un-documentable, as it were. But I don't want to twitter (though no offense to those of you who twitter...twitter away! Twitter hard.)so here I am. We are. Here again.

I'm going to try to write semi-regularly, or regularly maybe. There's lots going on and it's all pretty wonderful. Things like dentist appointments and Pixar Movies, and reality TV, and comedy shows, and writing, and plans, and happiness, and funny ideas about higher education. So, lots.

Consider this a re-launch? Or something? I changed the format, so you know, big doings...

xoxo
Erin