East Boston, or , Another Planet...Fitness

Good morning, Sunshines.

This week has seemed a little bit out of control, I have to admit. Lots of weird energies flying around, if you don't mind my being cosmic. However, something extremely positive has begun to happen -- gym membership.

For some unknown reason I woke last Sunday with a burning urge to do something productive. I hadn't the know-how to build a car, so I decided to tag along with my mother to Planet Fitness, East Boston.



I used to workout at Healthworks in Cambridge. Let me paint you a linguistic picture. Healthworks is a very expensive, unbelievably clean, all women's gym that smells like a spa. Yes, you will encounter rampant nakedness(my favorite was the three hundred pound woman curling her bangs in the mirror -- entirely unclothed) but other then that, it's pretty much the Nicest Place on Earth. For entry and membership to The Nicest Place on Earth, one pays about $80 a month. So, if you don't feel like working out on a scheduled work out day, you basically feel like you're feeding $20 bills into a shredder. The guilt is overwhelming. My schedule was unrelenting. My job is barely paying. I had to leave The Nicest Place on Earth.

Now let me tell you a little bit about Planet Fitness, East Boston (or as Kiley Fitzpetti refers to it "Planet Fatness").

Picture all of the guys you went to high school with that never really did much with themselves besides lift weights. And tan. If you're from Winthrop/East Boston/Saugus/ Revere, this isn't' a difficult exercise. Well, they're there. The gym itself is pleasant looking enough, but you better the hell wipe down that machine before and after use. It seems like the Eastie High football team comes here to train and flirt with the seventeen year old girls "working out" in JLo pants with something retarded printed over the bum. What does it cost to join this fitness free for all? Ten dollars. How much guilt is involved? Zero. I love it. I'm in. I even got a 'black card' membership so I can bring a guest any time and go to the location in Government Center.

Could slumming it really be my path to fitness, finally? I hope so. I've loved going so far, and Brian even came last night! He'd never been to a gym before, which was pretty amazing, but we had a great time.

I believe in you, Planet Fitness...don't give me Hep C.

The 109th Thing You've Read About Juno

Oh hell. The word maelstrom comes to mind, but that's non-blog fare.

So instead, I'll write about Juno.



I saw Juno over the weekend. It's one of those movies that everyone told me I had to see, like Little Miss Sunshine (which I still haven't seen). Especially since the Diablo Cody Oscar, I definitely wanted to check it out. I heard it was "over-written". Also, I heard it was "amazing". I found both of those sentiments to be at least partially true.

When I was watching the beginning, the introduction of these characters, their well placed eccentricities, quirks, etc, I thought...who didn't edit this script? It seemed like something I would maybe write and then hate myself for the over-cuteness of dialogue. Example, Juno finds out she's pregnant and the store clerk gives her a hard time. Her response: "Silencio, old man!"

Really? You're 16 and pregnant.

BUT, I ended up loving the movie. I think either the overwrought slang cooled off, or I got used to it because all of the emotional moments really hit the target with me. Jennifer Garner was really lovely, and Jason Bateman was appropriately, uncomfortably weird. Ellen Page is adorable. It ended up feeling really sincere and sad and awesome.

So, that's my take on Juno. Back to the maelstrom.

Brief Addendum to Vampire Guy and Vampire Lady Story

A few posts ago I discussed a large, old couple who dressed like vampires and fell asleep in the front row of last Saturday's 10pm show.

Richie Moriarty has alerted me to the fact that the Vampire man's name was DAVE MATTHEWS.

Also, here they are:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgAYGaJ0Oss

go watch.

Fighting to Stay Positive in a Gross Universe, Part Two

A Brief List of Bizarre Instances from the Saturday Shows:

Two older, larger individuals, dressed up like vampires slept through the first act. They sat front row center. Apparently lady V. fell out in the lobby during intermission and then they left. Upon being asked why they left gentleman V. said, "I didn't laugh once." He was sleeping.

One particularly special woman showed her breasts on camera, reducing the 8pm show into an even sadder version of Girls Gone Wild.

A stumbling, highlighted north shore lady in heels screamed "homo" throughout the 10pm show.

Her friend gagged and nearly vomited into her beer cup because she was too drunk.


Notwithstanding these unfortunate instances, we did quite well. It's a good show and I'm proud of the work we're doing. I just wish it was a little easier sometimes.

I got a really nice cab driver on the way home Saturday night though, and strange as it seems, it really made me feel better. Just to have a human interaction with someone who is kind and isn't trying to con you out of an extra five bucks is such a relief. I gave him a crazy tip.

Maybe I'll write more later. I hate this lose an hour business.

Fighting to Stay Positive in a Gross Universe, Part One

The blue line is the neglected child, given no education or attention, he starts doing drugs and being an asshole at an uncomfortably early age. By the time he's in high school, it's pretty much a lost cause. Could we have helped this outcome? Could better maintenance and faster schedules have prevented this mess? Maybe. But now, it's too late, and he's probably going to end up in prison.

Last night, coming back from a show which had a fair share of terrible drunk human beings...

[EXAMPLE = Me,trying to get a suggestion: Okay, great, so what's something else that doesn't smell very good?
Audience member: AIDS!]

So, coming back from that show, Brian and I are on the blue line. The Bruins game just got out, and apparently it was awful. There are a lot of dejected fans piling on to the train. We get in early and get seats. Then, right before the doors are about to close a blind man with a dog and a blind woman walk on. He leads her over to where the handicapped priority seats are. They are occupied by two large, white men in bruins regalia. The men look up at the blind couple and then look back down, continuing to be complete wastes of flesh, and absolutely not moving. So, OBVIOUSLY, I got up, tapped the blind man on the shoulder and directed them to the seats Brian and I had been sitting in. Because that is simply WHAT HUMAN BEINGS DO.


Not only did the cumbersome wastes of life not move, no one else did. Maybe I sprinted to help and didn't give anyone else a chance but truly, no one else looked like they were budging. These were clearly blind people! Dog toting, blind people.

Brian and I stood in front of waste #1 and waste #2 the rest of the ride and I fantasized about screaming in their faces. I did not do this because they were big and drunk and wouldn't have hit me, but Brian, if they got upset.



In one especially hilarious moment, waste #2 turned to waste #1 at Aquarium station and said, squinting his useless, slimy eyes, "smells like fish. huh. huh huh..."

And from their engaging conversation I gleaned that they were headed to...wait for it...Revere. God in heaven.

The cheesy bread from Dominos made everything a little better upon our return home, but I was fuming. I still am! North Shore, why are you this way?! Why!? Who didn't love you enough?!

Okay, so. That was Thursday. Today is Friday.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. And whatever you do, especially if you are at an Improv show or on the train, don't be a douche bag. Because you'll go to hell and have to hang out with a lot of Bruins fans.

Love,
Erin

Bastards Inc. is Totally Awesome

I am excited today because tonight I'll be performing with some of my favorite faves, Bastards Inc. We'll be at the Improv Asylum at 8pm...of course you wouldn't necessarily know that since the IA website lists the time slot as "TBA" which, to the best of my knowledge (Ryan, correct me if I'm wrong), isn't the clever new name of our show.

Bastards Inc. was born from the rubble of The Tribe, a now defunct comedy theater in Boston. It was just a bunch of people who really loved working with each other getting together on Thursday nights at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge to enjoy some chicken fingers, Newcastles, and very laid back improv. It was the highlight of my week. It's rare that you have a group of people that you feel so incredibly comfortable with, that you can just go out on stage and do whatever. It was always easy, and many times, really excellent work. No rules, no black pants, no lighting cues, just fun.



I love Improv Asylum, but the Thursday shows have kept me far from the Cantab and I desperately miss Bastards. I have missed so much awesome stuff, I hate it. I kind of can't believe that we IA folk are still on the email list.

The Bastards show is moving to the new ImprovBoston theater this week! They'll be there tomorrow (Thursday) night so if you can't come down to IA tonight, you'll want to catch that show. That is, if you give a crap. Which I do. Etc.

I'm totally wearing jeans on stage tonight.

Revelations: Jewel

I just wandered into Au Bon Pain to see if they had anything I want for lunch (they didn't) and they were playing "Hands" by Jewel and I absolutely lost it. What a dumb song! Oh my God, I probably looked like a lunatic with my uncontrolled snortlaughing, but it just struck me in the most peculiar way. Something about her silly yodel-like trill when she sings the word "ha-ah-ands" and "know-w" and "my owown".

I LOVE that she published a book of poetry. No offense to Danielle if she's reading, I respect you tremendously notwithstanding your Jewel affinity.

I think I really hate Jewel! This came out of nowhere! I thought I was totally indifferent, but the circumstances have changed.



PS. "Jewel"??? What a dick name! This is all hitting me like a ton of bricks.