So Hollywood

 I've been desperate to blog lately, but I just don't have the time. Life for these past six months has simply never let up. I feel like I'm constantly sprinting--zooming through outrageous days at a breakneck speed.

There have been so many moments that fluttered around my head as I was slipping to sleep. "I should write today down," I barely conjure as my head crashes into the pillow. I want to set in stone that Friday I got super sweaty at a guild silent disco, sped home for a shower, attended a fancy girl lunch, blazed through work emails, sat in the hamster playpen at night. Or the day I met with a blind advocacy group at 8:30 AM to develop the new Blind B_rbie and zipped to the picket line and ran into friends and decorated cookies for AP's birthday and motored across town for a listening party and made it to heartbreak dinner with my friend getting divorced and walked home eating pizza from the to-go box, singing Reputation on the empty sidewalk. And I still want to write about my camp reunion and I still want to write about Japan and I still want to write about so so many things.

But for this particular post, what I want to write about is the most Hollywood moment. Two weeks ago I went to my friend's bachelorette party. There was drag brunch and a warm patio and activities and dancing and banners. We played a game called "dirty minds." We got a list of clues that could be construed as sexy, but we were supposed to think of an answer that was bland instead. This game was my jam. The group happened to be very industry-heavy. When the host announced I had won an exec across the circle shouted, "That's not fair! She's a writer! She's supposed to be on strike!" The agent chimed in, "Fine, she can win, but I get ten percent of her points." I thumbed over to my actual manager and said, "Actually, she does."

When the morning came, we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf 'cos we lost track of time again.

Flexibility, Perspective, Niceness

I was very frustrated during Music Improv class tonight. I would initiate a scene very sure and clear about where it should have gone...and time and time again I was knocked down. I started to judge my classmates for making choices I wouldn't have made. I love each and every one of my classmates, so these angry feelings really upset me. It's tough though to feel like you're setting a foundation for something doesn't get built.

But then you really have to remember what you're doing exactly. In my experience, for example, I was trying to start a scene about needing a new worker at my seal docks business. In short: something very dumb. And yet, there I was, feeling my ears turn red in annoyance because someone didn't have the same idea about the fake miming we were doing. Sigh.

I want Chicago to be a nice place. And yet...As I bopped into the crosswalk on my street a mini-van was not stopping. At the last second a woman with a car full of people screeched to a halt as I was raising my arms like, "You tryin' to kill me, lady?!" I bet she was a tourist, and I bet she felt bad. Mainly, I just didn't want to get hit on this particularly cool June evening.

Be Real, Banana Peel

Writing this from my lil Marriott couch. As I drift off I've been remembering the last time I was on a hotel pull-out. Also for a speech tournament. But then I was a competitor and now I am a coach.

It was my first Nationals. The city of brotherly love. Only three of us qualified that year. The sophomore Lincoln-Douglas powerhouse. The graduating team captain, oratory queen, worked at Anne Taylor, often seen in business casual around the high school cafeteria.

Our first morning packs of kids in suits fueled diligently at the Embassy Suites breakfast bar. A coach opened a yogurt near Queen and it spit a speck of strawberry onto her lapel. The coach said, "Oh, I am so sorry," and ever-poised Queen smiled and assured it was just just just fine, no no no problems. And then she walked to a table with me and sharked, "Are you kidding me?" re: yogurt speck.

And what is the point of that? That is not graciousness. That is a wolf in graciousness clothing. If you want to portray, why not take it further? Why not be? You can get it if you really want.

Real

"I feel

like all my insecurities

and mistakes

have been to make me

the person

you love."

South Carolina 2013.

Debris

Cobra has this magnetic, wonderful energy. Everything is BIG, which I imagine could be tiring, but we have coffee like once a month so everything's glitter canons and gossip. She came to the Saturday evening performance of my play last month. She bustled up to me at intermission, bright-eyed, "You went for the jugular!" She said and talked my mom's ear off about how much she wants a boyfriend and how no one goes for the jugular in writing anymore. In the talkback, she set the discussion ablaze piping in several times. People felt comfortable adding their findings. It was the best night of feedback for certain.

When I met with her a couple weeks ago I wanted to thank her for it. She had made fire. But when I brought up the talkback she sort of flushed and apologized for being so open and explosive that night. She had left embarrassed. "Why did I say so much? That wasn't my place." But from my perspective of the big picture, she was invaluable. You bring honesty, and you bring the party! I told her this and she was absolutely deflated by relief.

When I was a junior in high school my calculus teacher began a lesson and suddenly crumpled into sobs. Her son had been deployed to Iraq that morning. We all knew she didn't want to be there. She would have paid a lot of money to erase that image from our minds, but some of us needed to see it. This grown good smart woman wrecked by fear and war.

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.