Witch

Seven women. A witchy number, a holy number. It started as a Galentine's party but as the plans deepened and the email chain wore on, it became Coven Weekend 2017. It was routine to receive  messages like "The black flame candle has been lit."

The first five to arrive in Sprite's woodsy family cabin unpacked quickly. There were kimonos for everyone and foam crowns to bedazzle. We all showed off our snacks. I told the group I felt like I was in 4th grade again, bringing a literal suitcase of doll clothes to a friend's house just to sort of marvel at it all and not really to put it on my Bitty Baby, or even, for that matter, hold my Bitty Baby. I ate a bunch of fancy cheese. I ate like I had never eaten before. Hoof said, "Me too. I am so snacky! I wonder if its because I am in a safe space." It's a joke and it's not a joke.

When the final two arrived we played a game that involved drawing cartoons with dry-erase markers. In between we chattered about our lives and Roxanne Gay and singlehood and pain tolerance, and wow are women amazing. A medical head of Cook County Hospital. Four JDs. 6 out of 7 of us have been into prisons?! An all-star roller derby champ. We flipped the sand timer and also discussed the Chicago police chief. I said I have been thinking about becoming a cop, and no one laughed at me. "You would be a good cop," they said.

After the glitter tatts it was time for the fire. We wrote out what we want to rid ourselves of and went around the circle burning the scrap papers one at a time. Strained relationships, Catholicism, the fear of moving, the error of being a failure. Into the pit. A marshmallow got stuck in my fur hood. I don't want to wash it. Every time I put on my coat I smell firewood. One house far away on a hill, we blared femme pop music and danced. We channeled the Crucible. I always felt someone was missing. Hunny, drunk, slurred about her passed grandma who she believes haunts her. There were no wrong answers. When my teammates were too wine competitive for charades I sat on the carpet and had my tarrot cards read. The message was clear. It soothed me. "I guess you shouldn't become a cop," Nasty said. I guess not.

We all skittered to the basement. A large room with bunk beds. I chose a top. In the middle of the night, time unclear, I had to throw up. It was pitch black. My period had started. Summoned? I felt empty in the good way.

No No Nobody

Easter ice cream double date!

No no nobody cares--
except for you.
No no nobody is worried--
except for you.

Little Feeling of Freedom

Hunny texted me to ask if I had seen the video Taylor Swift put on her Insta tonight. Apparently she was hosting her best friend's birthday, so she hired a member of Dashboard Confessional to sing an old favorite song of theirs live. The song is "Hands Down"--an old fave of me an Hunny's also. Aw, it's like, their friendship is the same as our friendship. Except for a few million dollars. I went to the Instagram account and immediately remembered why I wasn't following it. Taylor Swift's life in pictures makes me hate mine.

In reality, I'm doing pretty well, and I am generally happy. I wouldn't ask for much to be different right now. I think I'm where I need to be. But...maybe I could have a mansion and hire rock stars for fun and also have very cute blond hair. I KNOW for a FACT, it's not as easy or exciting as it seems in pictures. I KNOW, but it's so hard to believe when all the squares are just so.

Why do I follow any celebrities on Instagram? I guess I figured I liked them so I would like seeing them? But, um, hold on, can we talk about how destructive that is. Waiting for the bus, casually scroll through people way richer and skinnier and "loved" than you. And then go on with your life. It seems like a highly unhealthy way to pass time throughout the day.

I have stopped following all the celebs I did on Instagram. I wondered, "But I want to keep up." With WHAT? I'm going to see the TV Show/movie/hear the record etc. I don't need to see the boats and the trip to Europe and the new headshot with fifty thousand comments. There are other things that are more important! Look at those.

Hoku 4 Days

Writing with some humility this evening. On Friday I had a little bit of a grumble fest. I had just been featured in a real fest--a good, cool sketch one--and it was just really hard to see my work for some reason. It was so imperfect. It always is.

Hunny and her new husband plus Blake and Da had come out to see this silly thing I wrote. We went to the bar across the street. I put on a happy face (half-earned because I like those people a lot) and shouted over the music, but concern stewed in me. After moping home I let it go because otherwise the ghost of failure yet to come would eat me whole.

There are good times and okay times and times of survival lately. Yesterday I was sitting in the library. I love libraries. Especially tiny ones like the one across from my apartment. I eavesdropped on the kid's corner and sat in an oak chair. I looked objectively at my weekend and wanted to slap myself across the face. I am living a very very good life, and I have got to stop grumping when one percent of it is imperfect. I mean, let me talk about my weekend. Seriously.

Friday I was featured in a sketch festival. Supportive, cool people came. We hung out. Bisque bought me a cranberry juice. Once home I popped some popcorn and chomped on a big block of Christmas gift milk chocolate from one of the beuff's work clients.

Saturday morning we did two intense workouts, ate greek yogurt parfaits, relaxed, planned some playwriting classes, read. I went to the library. I sat on the floor. I was in no hurry. Dunt is in town with her mom. She took us out to a super delicious Mexican dinner I ordered the nachos. We got home early since they were en route to a show. Bisque and I watched The Babadook. It was totally entertaining. Afterward I walked in the not-even-that-cold December night to Walgreens for ice cream and flamin hot Cheetos, which I ate before curling up with my laptop and MTV's True Life.

I woke up to happy friend texts. I ran five miles. I had a musical improv rehearsal. The grocery shopping was full of goofs and snickerdoodle Chex Mix. Dusty took me up on my offer to join us at a super discounted magic show. We sat in the Palmer House Hotel parlor and had our minds blown. I mean, I saw a man knife himself out of a balloon and pick the audience member's card tonight! Meanwhile I have the best boyfriend ever, immediate text contact with my whole family, can do laundry in my apartment, and Poptarts exist. THINGS ARE PRETTY GOOD.

Getting rambley now, but I'm so beyond guilty of seeing my life as a bunch of progress always always yet to be made. Enjoy the trash TV, the junk food, the fact that you don't have to do anything at all and still to live is beyond explanation in that very good way.

Logically But

Logically we all know there are literally millions of people in the world who wish wish wish they had what we have. Logically this is true, but, oh, it is so hard for that fact to make a difference when the days are a little too rainy and the pizza is a little too abundant in your diet.

I wonder why that logic doesn't help almost ever. Like, you can say the words, "I should be happy," but it never sinks in. But keep making the list. Fake the gratitude til you make the gratitude.

Maybe your mom will make you her famous cheesy chicken, or maybe you will get to dance to BSB at your high school best friend's wedding, your boyfriend will hug you in the bread aisle, and you can fall asleep on your dad's couch for however long it takes.

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.

No Other Day!

Woke up to a text from Heart who reminded me "Today is August 23, 2012! There will be no other day quite like it."
There's something about the first day of school. Something good.

This is surreal. I flew in yesterday--met by a giant bear hug from Boulder and a dinner invite. I sit at his counter getting the gossip and watching him chop peppers for his eggplant parmesan, which is my favorite.

It's effortless to punch in my garage code, second nature to climb the stairs and drop my bags in the bedroom on the left. "I have grown," I decide, so I shove my bed into the opposite corner.

I bike to campus like I've done it hundreds of times. Because I have. Curly is on the corner of Mill & University. We embrace like we've done it two times because we have and his shoulder hits my jugular as I say, "It's good to see you" so I sound like a drunk chipmunk.

I TA. I see many a familiar face. I TA. I regress to 14 as Hill and I write summer Q & A on the backs of syllabi while the professor lectures during Sex & Violence. Class is out early, and I decide I'd like a smoothie. I run into Blue Eyes! Who hasn't eaten all day but can be persuaded to make a meal of froyo with me. I wonder what we look like--the chicadee with first day braid and the grey-haired family man, discussing Mormon youth over pomegranate non-ice cream.

First day of Senior Year 2005 with SVC & Hunny. So long ago!

So this is happening. Year two, here we go.

On Rape in Conversational Context

I think anything can be funny. The whole tragedy + time = comedy cliche is true. Like, Holocaust jokes. They happen. People laugh. That said, I don't think rape is funny. I can't think of a time when it has been.

Actually. I take that back. Sid tells a lot of rape jokes in his stand-up, and I laugh loathingly into my arm.

But, it's certainly not funny in a "throw around" kind of way. Now hold on, I think rape, like all violence can be glorified. Like, people can get all moody and be like it's the Worst Thing Ever. And, I'm not saying it's a walk in the park to be raped...although that may be how it starts (HEY-O). I'm just saying, sometimes I think the harsh seriousness with which it can be treated almost seems melodramatic and then, well, the opposite effect is achieved? Like the girls in high school Speech who did The Lovely Bones so s-l-o-w-l-y and de.lib.er.ate.ly. UGH UGH UGH. Just made me make fun of them/rape with my friends after the round let out.*

Anyway, the point is, today our Level Three teacher said we should rape our scenes. It was a ham-handed way of saying A) bring intense energy and B) don't accept failure. I get that. But everyone laughed, and I stuck in the mud. Frowning. Yeah, I'm that dude.

I guess I just feel it wasn't necessary. Like, can't there be other ways to say it? Other ways that aren't so stark and "wrong" that people laugh? It's a cheap laugh at that. And I KNOW some people say "It's just words" but I think that's a ridiculous sentiment because we LIVE BY WORDS. I'm in an improv intensive. Take away the words, and we're next to nothing. Words are at least 60% of us. At LEAST more than half.

And other people are like if you DON'T say the word, it becomes powerful. I'm not saying don't say it. I'm saying, say it when you're actually discussing the weight of rape. People act shocked about this Colorado movie theatre shooting, but, come on. I tell people I'm going to kill them on the reg. That DOES something to our brains. That DOES something to our souls. To say you're going to rape whatever whenever just because it's a clumsy word that can generally mean anything? That DOES something.

And this is not to even consider the possibility of mentioning rape in the presence of someone who has been and then must privately wince at the thought.

*Hunny, SVC, and I STILL mimic this one girl's intro that LITERALLY began, "Have you ever been raped? Yes? No? Well, I haven't. But the character in my piece has." WHAAAAT THE WHAAAAAAAT?

Just Having Fun

Right after a scene in which I played a French twin courting my sister's lover, in which I "broke"--AKA cracked a couple smiles despite my best efforts to keep it real--my teacher said, "Okay, Giggles McGee over there..."

And I could not even pretend to be offended because it's true. I've had a really hard time not laughing in class this week. I've just been having so much fun. This whole day has been fun. I woke up in Hunny's apartment and putzed around her book shelves before a nice long walk to class. I am genuinely enjoying this improvatunity. On my way to the el, I made eye contact with one of those street-corner-standers who want you to sponsor starving children. "Oh no!" I cried out among the flocks of Cubs fans. "Oh no! Now I've done it!"The guy handed me a photo of a hungry child. "I was having a guilt-free day!" I mock-shouted. He told me to take a couple deep breaths. Ugh. People not gettng melo-drama.

Long story short--I am now sponsoring a little girl in India.

I mean. It was really only a matter of time.

So then I showed up at Fran's apartment and we walked to the Taco Shop down the block! I got a veggie burrito and she got an octopus tostada! I mean what is up with that! But she enjoyed, and then we had a marshmallow sundae! I mean! Really! How often do you split a sundae with your best friend from elementary school!? NOT OFTEN!

Fran & da ice cream.

Giggles McGee over here. Over and out for now.

Friday Night at The Bux

Just spent a really really long time at Starbucks. About five hours--which I think is the record for how long I've been in a Starbucks. I have a fond memory of studying at the Starbucks that was within walking distance of my house in St. Louis my junior year with Vince, Hunny, and Ty. I remember Ty walked in and Hunny and I both were like, whoa, Ty, you look really nice today. And Vince was like, "He's wearing jeans and a sweater. I'M wearing jeans and a sweater!" We examined and concluded, "Yeah, but Ty has a belt." Vince raised his sweater to show us a cloth belt with purple paint on it. Nice try, buddy. I think we were probably there for four hours max though.


Vince.

Here are some things I saw at the Starbucks that' on the corner of the two busiest streets in my college town:

1. Several people came in to just straight-up gank WiFi and chill. I would think a Starbucks in such a busy spot wouldn't allow this, but for some reason, it was cool. Noted.

2. A man and a woman in their 80s set up a card game at a table and kept talking about Gabby who was "supposed to have been here by now." They played a while, talked about how expensive everything was these days, and DANGIT WHERE IS GABBY? Some teenage boys walking by asked, "Are you guys playing Magic?" They were. Eventually, Gabby came. Gabby was a very overweight, disheveled early-thirties woman who toted a rolling suitcase.

3. Big homeless woman plopped in the easy chair next to me and gave a very impassioned persuasive (?) speech to "Rita" for about two hours. She was speaking loud enough that she distracted me from the revisions I needed to get done tonight, but not loud enough for me to hear a theme of her speech--just bits and pieces. Although, it's possible there was no theme. Rita was not there. This woman was definitely not wearing a bluetooth.

4. A bald Indian guy approached me to ask if I thought women were more like cats or dogs. His three friends sat at a table yonder giggling like mad. I said neither.

5. "Hey!" boomed a short man at the front of the store. We all looked up. "Who has change for a 20?" Sometimes, you forget, pretty much anyone at any time can decide to command attention in a building.

6. Dude comin' in tryin' to sell his mixtape to a bunch of uninterested people.

7. A woman meeting her friend's baby for the first time. Precious. Baby started screaming--the mom breastfed.

8. A cute older couple on a date eating a contra-ban ice cream sandwich with a shared coffee.

9. Several other people, like me, holed up with their computers workin' hard.


My drank tonight: Salted Caramel Soy Mocha.

ATTENTION: IF YOU'RE GETTING COFFEE AND YOU'RE DRINKING IN-STORE, ASK IF YOU CAN HAVE A MUG. BOO THROWING AWAY PAPER/PLASTIC CUPS!

Offer Up

Time is never time at all.
You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth.
And our lives are forever changed.
We will never be the same.
The more you change the less you feel.
Believe, believe in me, believe
that life can change, that you're not stuck in vain,
we're not the same, we're different tonight.
Tonight, so bright, tonight.
And you know you're never sure,
but you're sure you could be right
if you held yourself up to the light.
And the embers never fade in your city by the lake--
the place where you were born.
Believe, believe in me, believe
in the resolute urgency of now,
and if you believe, there's not a chance tonight.
Tonight, so bright, tonight.
We'll crucify the insincere tonight.
We'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight.
We'll find a way to offer up the night tonight.
The indescribable moments of your life tonight.
The impossible is possible tonight.
Believe in me as I believe in you tonight.


STL High School Gang--together for NYE.

Resolutions 2012

New Year's High School Reunion in Chicago: Vince & GF, Hunny & BF, Mia.

Be healthier. Vague, but true. This means

1. Arranging my life so that it is RARE that I don't get enough sleep.
2. EATING FRUITS AND VEGETABLES. Not every other day. Every day.
3. A pint of ice cream is not dinner.
4. Or breakfast.
5. Not feeling guilty about what I just can't do.
6. Not feeling stressed about what I know I can do.
7. Enjoying everything.
8. Taking time to consume good art every day.*
9. Respecting the place I live (this means making my bed as well as considering the landfill the coffee cup will go in once I'm finished with it)
10. Taking more momentary breaks to be peaceful throughout my days.


Hunny and her hunny.


Nac. 11:55 PM December 31st, 2011.

*Listening to Something Corporate while I bike does not count!

Oh, in five years time, I might not know you.
In five years time, we might not speak.
In five years time, we might not get along.
In five years time, you might just prove me wrong.

Easy A...Minus

Hunny & me in 2006

LC, Pookie, and I went and saw Easy A a couple days ago. I actually really enjoyed it. I mean, part of it is that over the past year my taste in movies has gone from believable dramas to trashy comedies I don't have to think about. But, regardless, there were a lot of really funny literary-esque lines...like referring to girl friendships as "Gossip Girl in the Sweet Valley of Traveling Pants."

Of course, in movies like this the ever-obvious problem is that plain girl goes sexy is always way cheesy because let's face it, it's a movie star. You know--She's All That or whatever. But, here, it was like...they didn't even TRY. She was super cute and trendy but "invisible"--not possible. I mean, come on, they didn't even put her hair up or give her glasses! Classic moves of geek to chic!

Anyway--the other thing is that Emma Stone looks, like, identical to my HS bestie Hunny. They make the same facial expressions and everything.

I get on my dirt bike and ride to my girls'. I'm gunna lay down the law and tell them what's goin' on.