GF

It is EASTER. And I am wearing a pink tank top. I had some Peeps for lunch. I ate them on Boulder's sofa while he and I whined into our open computers working on screenplays. There are worse problems to have. I eat the ears down. He does single bites, and his cheeks poof out like airbags.

Two nights ago, Bisque and I had a "Rags to Riches" date. (Term coined by him), which means we dressed up up--he in a button down, and me in the dress I wore to marry my best friend--and went to Taco Bell. Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Tacos: B+. But the night ended at da fanciest steak house for ridiculously good strawberry shortcake. And that IS a Good Friday, I think.

A million X's. A million O's. Shout out to our Lord and Savior: the candy and taco franchises of da USA.

You found yourself a prophet, but you left him on the boardwalk.
Another chocolate Easter bunny, hollowed out by your talk.

The Beautiful People of Chicago

I am behind on everything. Probably because of this:

Dusty!

Nizz at Austrian bakery/cafe.

Some blood.

Fran. BFF ages 6-14.

Sitch. Eatin' Forever Yog.

 Not pictured: AStanSr, Chicago Aunt, Holies, cousins, BA6, Hunny and Hunny's BF.

Some Things about Forgetting Your Phone at Home

-I have absolutely no concept of time. I have asked a lot of strangers for it.
-Made plans for tonight that are contingent upon a play I am attending. I will show up when I show up. I tell this to Bisque, and he says, "It will be just like the 90s!"*
-Freeing. There is nothing in my hands.
-I wanted to take a picture of the sunny palm trees. No dice.
-This should be a post about the beautiful people of Chicago, Illinois. But the photos are on my phone.
-Hope there were no emergencies today with people near and far.

*Friday night I got off at the wrong el stop when meeting Sitch for dinner. I called and we tried to plan where to meet. "I suppose...we should just walk toward each other?" And Sitch was smart enough to specify which side of the street to walk down. East we decided, and as I hung up, I got a bitty chill. The mystery of when I will see my friend who I haven't seen in a long time! Even though we had just talked voicebox to voicebox. Oh, cell phones. Oh, cell phones.

And That Would Be Alright

These yahoo dbags have been a wonderful part of my life. Sometimes they call me "Mom" and I get annoyed (because I don't think it's only moms who want answers to questions like "What time is rehearsal exactly?" and "Should we warm up now?"). They grab at me until I fall off the bed during notes. We make fun of all the best and worst parts of each other so bitingly, it is unrecognizable as love.

At the continental motel breakfast yesterday, Steck stared me down while I stirred my oatmeal. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak he snapped, "SHUT UP, ALICE." And the only other patron in the lobby dropped his donut.

In the greenroom before our round started we all hugged each other. Big, hearty, meaningful embraces. These stupid jerks who are the reason all my clothes currently smell like smoke and who met me with my bags at White Castle, happy about the fact I couldn't eat anything. We played "Semi-Charmed Life" ironically, but we sang to the ceiling with sincere happiness.

When we lost, we were not sad for pride. We were sad for being better than what we did. Waiting in the wings for the announcement of our loss, we held each other's backs. We strained to stifle giggles--cracking inapprope jokes until the last moments.

After a couple hours of being split up, I spied a few guys from the backseat of my sister's car. I rolled down the window, the 30 degree wind whipped at me, and I barked in my beefy character voice, "Y'ALL LOOK SO GOOD! LOOK AT YOOOOOOU!" Lowsta flicked me off.

The night ended at the huge tournament after-party. I left first (mommin') and started goodbyes. Marg took me in tight and reminded me of the first scene we ever did about stage parents obsessed with Rice Krispies. "It's been a pleasure," we both said. Leggo yelped, "NO! NO I WON'T LET IT HAPPEN! GIRL, NO!" And that's the thing about your improv teammates: they can not mean it and mean it. And we all don't mean it, but mostly mean it.

I have been the most lucky human in that I've always loved my fellow improvisers, but this is a very special team to me. I'm still super close with old Lazy Zips because we would be friends with or without improv. Which is good! But. But not this team. These five other souls and I meet at only one point in time and space. And now, that point--it has faded.

I believe in the sand beneath my toes.
The beach gives a feeling--
an earthy feeling.
I believe in a faith that grows,
and the four right chords
could make me cry.
When I'm with you I feel like I could die,
and that would be alright. Alright.

Come Back When You Can

It's 30 degrees.

Updating from the Red Line.

Before I disappear

into a mid-semester vacation.

Blackhawks coats. Dunkin wrappers.

The electric keyboard orchestra

at the Jackson stop.

Improv nationals are this weekend.

Nervous, a little proud.

These boys. These stupid boys. 

I woke them up

by calling when my plane got in

at one PM.

We're on our way.

Even though we all live apart,

my immediate family is all in Illinois today.

Chicago. It's ugly but home.

Season Two of Girls (Spoilers)

This fall I was anti-Lena for two reasons:
1. The girl don't actually know what she's talking about. You can't write about being poor and cut-off in NY if YOUR PARENTS FUNDED A MOVIE POST-GRAD. But, I got over this. Because she's doing it well. So, like. I needed to get over that.
2. She's rocking best of both worlds. She's her character Hannah--totes love to hate and poster girl for single, awkward, fun 20s. But in real life, Lena is dating a dang rockstar. Again, cred is shot. What's with these females in TV and movies who are total messes who we can LOVE from our couches and laptops, but in real life are just as glamorous as the stars in People. They just have worse teeth or something, But, again, for me to mandate that Lena stay an unloved troll forever in order to please her fans? Not fair. I was particularly upset by the Donald Glover plot because I just kept thinking, "This is unfair. Donald Glover is way out of Hannah's league. This is not believable at all. You can't show a super-normal girl and ALSO have her nab all da hotties." But WOW, ALICE. That's on ME. Just because that's not "normal" now doesn't mean it can't be! And prolific artists need to be showing us  80% of what is and 20% of what SHOULD be.

-People keep wiggin' about Marnie + Charlie, but don't you see? He's never going to love her again. They are never ever ever. Getting back together. (For real at least).
-Hannah eatin' Cool Whip from the tub. It makes me feel solidarity yet jealousy that we both do this. (Lena Dunham is making a jajillion dollars from it.)
-I GD love Ray. Especially when he asks for a promotion to impress Shosh.
-Shosh was right on about him hating everything, and I can't wait for his transformation.
-Laughed out loud at Hannah's vmail to Jessa.
-"SHIRI OPERATE" was best part.
-Adam's new gf: it's unsettling and incredible that their scene made her normalcy absolutely putrid. I hope we see a little more of how she is warranted in her demands for respect.
-My heart was absolutely fluttering when Adam kicked down the door. Even though they're stupid together, sometimes impermanence is good for the time being. My editor tweeted yesterday, "For me the season finale of Girls was about making a bad decision, knowing it was a bad decision, but feeling good in that moment." And I so agree.
-So many people are so close to us, and, yet, the person who really tells you what's what is probably your ex-junkie neighbor.
-The credits rolled to fun. A nod to real life romance. I dig it. I do.

Andrew McMahon at Martini Ranch in Scottsdale

Last night I saw Andrew for the 7th time in concert. Some things:

-While Ro and I were parking, we missed a turn and had to double back a couple blocks from the venue. Stopped at a light, a thin, blond man in a button-up crossed us. It was Andrew. So, of course, my natural reaction was to open the car door and SCREAM, "YAY!" He turned around, laughed, smiled, pointed, and said "hi." I am so glad I've met him before. Otherwise we would have had to stalk him, which I'm sure, you know, isn't his favorite thing.
-The show was probably oversold. And it was a teeny bar. People were spilling out the door. And it was so hot. I sweated harder last night than when I ran a marathon.
-Openers were both excellent! Barcelona and Schematic! What opening bands should be! Barcelona did a cover of "Fast Car" that was da most beautiful.
-I've been tweeting at Andrew for a month periodically asking him to play my favorite song at the show. I know requests AT concerts are usually pretty hard for musicians because they're just not ready, and they have a setlist, and like, also, can you just not be a jerk and command your entertainment? So, Twitter. The thing is my fav Andy jam is not on any records, and it's not well-loved by fans, and, look, I don't know why I love it so, BUT I DO. Um. And then. UM. HE WALKS ON STAGE AND OPENS WITH "LAST STRAW." SO LIKE WHAT?! I was floored. The crowd was NOT diggin' it. I could see about fifteen people in my entire crowd who were singing along. Andy launched into "Mixed Tape" right after as an apology. BUT MY DREAMS CAME TRUE!
-Andrew is just a fantastic performer. And he's not letting 30 take him down. He still jumped off the piano, played with his feet, rocked hard into that mic. Was a friend, told the stories.
-I want people to stop making him play "Konstantine." He did it well, but he was obviously resigned. And he skipped the piano solo. He's over it, y'all.
-By now, between SoCo and Jack's his discography is pretty immense. There's just so much I would have loved to hear, but I need an eight hour concert. The set was mostly the big hits, which obviously makes sense. But. You know. This was my sixth time hearing "Dark Blue" and my zeroth time hearing "If I Die."
-I DID hear a couple newbies. He played two new tracks from an upcoming EP, and I had never heard "Television" or "What Gets You Off" live before.
-OMG dancing. Especially during "The Resolution" and "If U C Jordan." Holy North, was it a work out.
-I will never forget Ro's arms and mine to the sky wailing I've got friends who help me pull through.

It's all jumbling together, but I think this was the setlist:

Last Straw

Mixed Tape

Straw Dog

Television

She Paints Me Blue

Learn to Dance

Watch the Sky

Resolution

What Gets You Off

Bruised

Swim

Holiday From Real

I Woke Up in a Car

New Song: Schesia (?)

Dark Blue

If U C Jordan

Konstantine

La La Lie

The height of my Andrew obsession has passed, but, come on. He's the Mahon.

Well I'm always comin' down from the night before when I met you.

Muse! Concert! Phoenix! 2013!

-brilliant performers in terms of filling a fat stadium with energy

-visual aspects of the show: rad x a milli (lasers whaddup)

-so darn danceable--and dance we did--hop, sway, twirl!

-best song: "Madness" (for singability, technical effects, colors)

-worst song (but honestly still not even that bad): "Liquid State"

-I feel like a part of history now that I've officially watched the lighter evolve into the flashlight app for iPhones

-the line "this ship is takin' me far away/far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die" is so amazingly romantic in every sense...and live, it made me consider the people who do care if I live or die, which is, like, the point of art

-called my sister during "Supermassive Black Hole" and she texted "SUPER MASSIVE JEALOUS KISSES"

-sound quality: crystal clear

-as always with huge concerts, I wish there was more personability, but Muse tried their best with the thematic set-list, with the friendly retorts, with the stark and sad video footage of our current world

-people always rave about how Muse is da best live band ever, but, like, yeah...they have an extremely valid point

Video Pyramids!

The night was warm! The night was young! Bisque and I drove off to meet with our other concert-goers. Everything was perfect, so I said so. And our windows were down. We approached three people  on foot. "They should know," he said. So I yelled at them. I yelled, "EVERYTHING IS PERFECT." And one yelled back: "Woo!"

How much are you worth?
You can't come down to earth.
You're swelling up, you're unstoppable.

Wall Decor in My Direct Eyesight as I Sit at My Desk and Work on Play Revisions This Friday Night as My Phone Dings with Invites Behind Me (It's Fine, I've Made It Impossible for Me to Break My Own Promise Not to Go Out Tonight By Getting into an Oversized T-Shirt with a Roadrunner on It)

signed Andrew McMahon poster
Horton Hears a Who greeting card
ripped up card that reads "Life is to be spent not saved"
photo of me and Muff backstage during Summer Brave
" me and Kath at camp
" me and Heart in Chicago
" my sister, mom, and me on Mother's Day 2012
red paper crane
greeting card that reads "I love you like biscuits love gravy"
postcard of a snail jumping through a flaming hoop
"drawing of an artist's studio
"oceanside porch in Spain
mini-print of a French piece--a pink oval with "BE CALM" inside

Yup. That's The Special Edition The Craft DVD.

Ten Things about Spring Break 2013

-Running downtown in my pink sportsbra and pink shorts and pink Nikes and The Resistance on repeat.
-Bisque singing "Gangnam Style" at me while I procrastinated jumping in my pool . It was frigid, Monday at 10 PM, but we wanted to have a handstand competition.
-Texting The Craft quotes with Ro. 90s Neve!
-Last Five Years and Into the Woods harmonies with Ru in my sunny bedroom. Don't we get to be happy, Cathy?
-Phone date with Kath. Necessary.
-Actually getting a lot of writing done and not hating it, not even a little.
-Figuring things out! Figuring them out!
-Irish soda bread.
-Scene is Tuesday's improv set about a family with genetic brain farts.
-Deep cleaning the bathroom.

Cookies and Creme & Cinnamon Roll Pop Tarts

This is now extremely late, but over Christmas I tried two new Pop Tarts.

Cookies & Creme Pop-Tart: B. Def a dessert tart. Basically an Oreo. But warm--which is exciting. A bit much. While warm creme is a fun time, the cookie loses it's crunch in the toaster. So. Eh.

Cinnamon Roll Pop-Tart: Also a B. This is kinda a hoax as the filling is a basic cinnamon Pop-Tart...the only difference is the vanilla icing on this tart as opposed to the hard cinnamon frosted shell of the everyone's fave original flave.

Bliss

Clara in AZ. September 2012.

When Clara started dating her ex-fiancee two years ago, she told me about their date when the boy wore serious work work work boots and a furry beard. He had gained pound and pounds since they had met, and she was on horrendous acne medication. A stocky bear and a tiny pussing nervous laugher. They fell in love, the first time for her. And she told me about this, she said "I always had an idea of what I would be when I could finally deserve someone perfect. I would have been fitter, had an education, clear face, poised dignity"...but that's not what she was. The good finds you in the state you're meant to have it. (Which is all states?) Real happiness isn't when there's zero discomfort, uncertainty, bad haircuts, mid-terms to grade. I hope not. Because then it will never come. Real happiness is Joy Despite.

Everything about you is how I'd wanna be.

Your freedom comes naturally.

Everything about you radiates happiness.

Now I won't settle for less.

Para Siempre

Every new thing we've ever had to do we at one point did not want to do.

AZ Sunrise 2012.

And how do you say 'always'?

March Luck

There are so many wonderful people that surround my life. They waltz in and they take pictures of me while I scoot home in shorts and galoshes in pouring rain. They greet me at the testing center with Jamba Juice. They get the margherita flatbread because I don't eat meat. They put tiny gold boxes on the metal table. I laugh until I cannot stand.

I ask How did this happen to me? On a good day, on a day I have put on real clothes and eaten oatmeal I say I deserve this. And on days I show up ten minutes late to work because I was Googling the cast of One Tree Hill I ask harder, more times, with earnestness.

The theories:

1. People are not only good. They are great. The odds, they're fabulous. It seems like a miracle to be so connected, but we're all miracles, so it's not.

2. I am just so lucky.

Post Encyclo last night. Ladeez.

Date Night?

There was something equally creepy and sweet about the couple that sat next to each other in the Film Ethics: Sex and Violence class I TA'd last semester. Their hands were always locked. When we'd dim the lights, the girl would pull a bag of M&Ms out of her backpack, quietly tear the corner, and pour some into her beau's free palm.

I semi-dread Thursdays at 4:30 because I have to watch the new sex & violence hit o' da week. But that girl in the tight jeans and flip flops, the boy in the plaid shorts, it was their time, and...well, I don't know what else to say.

Here!

Sunday evening, I went on a four mile run downtown. I was booking it. Had just left improv, Ethiopian with Cobra impending.

I wore my navy heart tank and a sleek straight braid. I ran down the cobblestone sidewalk of popular shops and eateries. All the restaurants with patio seating, doors open wide. All the young dads in spring training hats, sippin' brewskis.

Everyone walks slow. I cut through the sea. I do not mind. The air is saturated with Vacation. This is everyone's vacation. I can feel your brunch bellies and you looking around, being enchanted by the pitchfork t-shirts in the windows, by the bike racks and the ficus trees.

I live where people indulge. Here! Right here!

Spring Writer's Workshop. 2012.

Ran north on Mills Avenue,
listen to the engine roar.

Dogfriend

My boyfriend is laying on my bedroom floor,
facedown. Like a tired puppy. It's Friday at 5:50 after all.
I am standing in my closet
whimpering
also like a dog. Because I have to change out of running shorts
because I have to go to the theatre
(accentuated R-E).
"How cold do you think it will get?" I ask.
"High of 50s," he says into the carpet.
"So I should wear pants," I grumble, then
counter, "Maybe
I'll just wear a dress....no,
I'll regret it. BEAT. I'll just wear
stupid pants."
And the dogfriend barks:
"Don't wear pants."
"...But why?"
"Because you don't want to!"
And I don't!

No Credit

This semester I am taking four classes, TAing two, and working part-time. Also, rehearsals for improv nationals. I was strongly invested in taking a Performing Childhood theory course with the Theatre for Youth PhDs, but I knew it was stupid to push myself just that much over the limit. I decided to audit.

So, this class is fascinating to me. And I want to get the most from this opportunity. So I'm doing all the work. It's not horrible, but it makes a difference to have a few extra hours of reading per week. To me it's worth it...I think. The other day I felt grumpy about my audit decision. "I'm doing all this for nothing."

But I'm already going to graduate with an overflow of course credit. 3 more credits won't help or hurt me. I mean, technically, if I got an A in this class my GPA would bump up...but it's not like my GPA for my DEGREE IN PLAYWRITING is going to get me places in this world. Furthermore, I might have gotten a B. And then I'd just be bitter.

It's strange to do things for no reason. We do it all the time, of course. I am sitting on my front porch because it is sunny. No one has mandated that. I read an article about feminism and the Oscars this morning. I just wanted to. Really all these classes are silly. But in the context of getting something for something, it feels strange not to. A good thing to learn though. A very good thing.