Who Am I to Argue with Spotify Giving Me NFG for my Run?

The needle on my record player has been wearing thin.
This record has been playing since the day you've been with him.
No more long rides home,
no more of your station--
I didn't like it anyway.
Remember the time we wrote our names up on the wall?
Remember the time we realized "Thriller" was our favorite song?

Have I waited too long?
Have I found that someone?
Have I waited too long
to see you?

Maybe it's for the best.
Maybe it's not for anything.
It wouldn't be so bad to take this right from me.
No more long rides home,
no more of your station--
I didn't like it anyway.
Remember the time we wrote our names up on the wall?
Remember the time we realized "Thriller" was our favorite song?

Have I waited too long?
Have I found that someone?
Have I waited too long
to see you?

How many times I've tried.
It's simple to you, so simple to lie.
How many times I've tried.
Blatant mistakes of your design.

Have I waited too long?
Have I found that someone?
Have I wanted too long
to see you?

I've had so many chances.
Turn my back and I ran away.
I've had so many chances
to see you.

Andrew to the Ninth Power

Halloween was the first day it snowed in Chicago and I saw Andrew McMahon for the 9th time in concert. It was, like always, a sturdy, clean set. Some SoCo, some new record, sending us off with the Jack's of pulling friends through. The Vic buzzed. A scarecrow next to me, a deer wandering near the bar, Severus Snape in the back row. Andrew himself was in full astronaut garb. He crowdsurfed his helmet. A Pikachu riffed guitar. The openers ran onto the stage in skin-tight Power Rangers 'tumes.

It was Bisque's first Andrew concert. He arrived right before doors opened toting cups of cocoa for my waiting-in-line fingers. Little stories about the commuting back to Echo Park. Mentions of the recovery, a few old tracks from People and Things, almost forgotten. Of course, "Astronaut"--thanks to attire.

The final finale was "Synesthesia." Our star crouched down to the front rows (where we were) and serenaded us. "So I never made a gold record," he sang. It was true when he recorded that song, but since his 2005 single went gold. I pointed to him and said, "But you do have a gold record!" He nodded and mouthed, "I do!" He joked with the hecklers, jumped off the piano, ended his show early enough for us to wait in coat-check, make the windy walk home, and watch Amityville Horror until we fell asleep. You're a good man, Andrew Mc.

The stars are out tonight,

One million fires burning.

A Lesson in Yessin'

I hadn't seen Leggo in a year, not since our final improv show. He texted me because he heard I was moving and we started riffing about double dating. It's a little strange to think we made plans just because I'm about to move since based on our track record, if I were staying here, I would never see him again.

For some reason the plans were complicated. Bisque wanted shaved ice, Leggo's gf wanted soy milkshakes, I felt like a receptionist throwing out times and dates. But, after some shuffling we settled on yesterday at 5:30 out in a boonie for the aforementioned icy treat. We were all traveling separate. Twenty minutes before meet-up (I was early) Leggo texted saying they'd be late. Then he called saying his gf ditched. I completely understood and thought I was more than accommodating: "We can reschedule, or not, or I can come see you somewhere else later, or--" he interrupted, "No, I'll just see you there." I asked if he was sure. "It's that or go home, so I might as well come meet you!"

It was a surprise because I don't think, in Leggo's shoes, I would have driven the forty minutes in traffic to be a third wheel and have a glorified slushy. But that was the plan, and he stuck to it. And you know what? We had a really good time. We sat for, like, two hours hanging out in that shop, cracking jokes and diddling with our tiny parasols until they broke. Beyond that, we all discussed our potential artistic futures and realized Hey! We might actually be good connections for one another! It really didn't matter, once we sat, bellies full of blue sugar and laughs, the insecurity with which the whole thing went down.

Buck wild.

Improvisers harp on "Yes And!" so stinkin' much, but, it's for good reason. You just say Yes. You just say Yes and things happen. We all (myself included) are so quick to drop plans, concepts, projects when something blots what we envisioned. It's not a habit. Life is made up of blots. I think Shakespeare said that. "All the world's a blot"? Or, am I thinking of "out damn blot"?

Point is Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes begets Yes and Yes shall reign forever. Hallelujah.

Italy: Part Four Point Five

The amount of time you have in a place is usually the amount of time you need. Over our final dinner in Rome, which, by the way, could not get more Italian (see photo), we reflected on what we might change.

Checkered tablecloth, vino, red sauce, bottled water.

Because earlier that afternoon we had made our way off the beaten track to find a pizza place only locals went to and enjoyed the feel of real city--not tourist explosion--I wished we had done something similar in Florence. On our way back into the city hub we passed Romans buying shoes off sidewalk tables, and I ate a rose gelato.

The best mushroom pizza ever.

My other regrets were a contemporary art museum in Venice (I had plumb forgot on our one short day) and not noticing our hotel in Rome was adjacent to an excellent-looking bakery until we were walking to dinner and it was closed. Three minor regrets? Overall, we killed it.

Hotel breakfast.

The Vatican was expensive, but now I've seen the Sistine Chapel. It looks like the pictures though. Not sure if that makes it more or less important to see. We also accidentally planned our visit for Wednesday morning mass. No wonder there were so many people milling around the piazza! I've now seen the pope.

Pope, yo.

Borghese Gallery was the best way to spend our last afternoon. If you don't know, the Borghese is all about making connections from various aesthetics and time periods to conformed ideas. While Renaissance art isn't necessarily my jam, the nectar of inference is. Fitting for a big trip. When we return to where we're from, our biggest baggage are the connections we carry.

Me as an extra in a Wes Anderson film set in Borghese Gardens.

We woke up at 6 to offer plenty of time for an 11 AM flight, but once we were ready we were alerted via email the flight had been bumped two hours later. "You know what this means," said Bisque. And of course he meant that regret bakery would be open! We bought a tiny apple pastry, a napoleon, and a ricotta fluff. Coupled with the light Italian breakfast we always had at hotels and the copious orange juice I drank on the plane, it was a sugary trip back to Arizona. I was ready.

Ciao, Italia!

It's easier to be Puff, but it's harder to be Sean.

Disability Momma

Last spring I wrote about a girl I saw at work (the disability center) who was nervous about a math test to the point of tears and pregnant and very young. I was worried for this girl.

A few weeks after I wrote that post, I saw her again. She was outside a building, waiting for a ride. She looked miserable and was very ripe with babe. It's against policy to approach a student I know from work outside of the center, so I had to just walk on by. I've considered that gal a few times a week spring.

This year, the girl showed up again! She had dark dyed hair now and seemed very happy. She wore a wedding band and carried a cute cartoony backpack. She made small talk with me and showed no signs of anxiety at all. I was so happy. I have no idea if she has the baby or not. I am just glad she is okay.

You never know who is rooting for you.

Denver Wedding

Murried.

Berger and I finished Adventureland last night
right before it was bedtime. Early bedtime. He had to drive me to the airport at 5 AM today.
I tied my shoes silently in the foyer.
"I made you breakfast," he said, handing me a granola bar and my soup dish of two cupcakes:
cranberry almond and orange chocolate chip mocha.

They were the wedding cake. I gave them as an offering to Chelle when she picked me up from the airport back in sunny AZ.
Oh,
I missed sunny AZ
when the entire 94 guests shuffled outside the mansion
to take a friendly group photo.
"Here's who's here to celebrate this lovely thing!"
we waved up at the camera.

KWall suggested Adventureland to me a few months ago.
Finally, the first day of her honeymoon, I watched it.
I loved it a lot.
I loved the love.
I loved the love all weekend.

I gave the readings for the special day, a mid-morning ceremony.
I read in a dress patterned with greyhound-shaped zebras.
A caterer asked if I made it.
Hmm. Don't think that's a compliment. When the caterer asks if you made your formal outfit.


Kath--the best Thanksgiving guest.

"I really loved it," I told Berger. I folded the blanket and patted it onto his sofa.
"Do you feel like you changed?" he asked, which is a good post-film question.
"Yes. I feel like you should do things that are good for you, and that you should be happy."

My friend KWall has a new name. My first memory of our friendship was a decade ago on a beach walk. We talked about the TV show Blossom. She was dating her college sweetheart back then. She broke his heart.
Games, games, games.

Apologies and Comedy Updates

You guys, I am seriously not meeting my goal of updating this dang blog every day. If it's any consolation, it's because this week has been phenomenal. I also have a BEVY of starred e-mails in my inbox, so if one of those stars belongs to you, even MORE apologies. If your name is Lazz, and you sent me the best snail mail letter ever this week, and I haven't even started to write back yet, then, well, look, I'm the worst.

There's a campus improv group as well as a sketch group here. I contacted the director this summer to ask how it works, if they audition, whatevs. I was hesitant about going to the auditions because, well, I'm a grad student, and they were probably bunch of goofy dudes. But, getting to do improv is getting to do improv, so I went.

Analysis was correct: a bunch of goofy and offensive dudes. But, like I said, improv is improv, and I had a blast just getting to jam with new people. Made some connections, laughed a ton, and stayed quiet while a bunch of horrible jokes were made. Abortion! Holocaust! Raunch! But really good people very serious about comedy.

Last night's auditions ended, I made a couple connections, and I headed to Boulder's house for fajitas. Most of the MFA cohort was there enjoying delightful black beans, salsa, and fresh baked lemon squares. I chatted with everyone. Theatre! The Feminine Image of Beauty! Male/Female Characters in Young Adult Literature!

I just found out I am cast on the improv and sketch groups. The director and AD just called me with the good news. They invited me to the casting party "later"--it's almost 10 PM now...apparently, these people don't share my bedtime? But, I'm really excited about inviting the crazy/bonkers/non-PC side of comedy into my life as I continue to forge remarkable connections with people in the MFA about big kid stuff.

I just want everyone to know that I had extremely high hopes for grad school last year when I turned down JET. And they have been a million times over exceeded. Life is good for too many reasons to write right now.