Classy-- The Casey Nicole Wright Story

COME SEE MY SHOW

2011-01-24T11:35:00.004-05:00

Hey guys! remember when i was in that fun, yet wildly inappropriate show I was in this summer??? Well, guess who is in the FULL LENGTH VERSION OF IT NEXT MONTH????

no. its not natalie portman. this may have been the only role she turned down this year as she obviously said yes to anything and everything else.

It's Me!
so... ya know... come see it!
HOLLER! The Backwoods Musical
Feb 24-26 at the 45th St. Theatre
buy tickets here!

"I do it for the joy it brings, because I'm a joyful girl"

2010-11-12T21:37:00.009-05:00

it has been over a month since i've lasted posted. a MONTH, i say. that is totally insane. I'm not really enjoying that part of my grown up job, but that's pretty much all i've posted about since i've started my grown up job- how i don't have time to blog. so i won't write about that again. except for the fact that i just did.

what you have missed in the past one month of my life:

i am a famous actress. i'm rehearsing not one but TWO plays. i'm very excited about both. one of the plays was featured on this website. that's right... off OFF broadway world dot com. What is that you say? you already have that website bookmarked because you love off off broadway theatre so much??? you...

the other play just started rehearsals this week, so no website write ups on off off broadway world... YET. but i think that its going to rock your socks off. stay tuned. its a full length play of the short play i did in the Cringe Fest this summer. sweeeet, riiiight?

I must admit... its a weird place in my acting career to be in right now. I'm keeping busy-- which is awesome. i feel like i'm making some big strides in this industry. however, i am still not making enough $$$ to support myself as an actor, so I am still working full time. damn is it exhausting. but like i said, staying busy in this business is something to be very grateful for. and i am. who needs money anyway.

Thanks to my super cool brother (@adny), I now have my own Casey Nicole Wright TRADING CARDS!!!!! if you want one, just send me a self address envelope. and a stamp. and a dollar. i'll even autograph it if i decide i like you. i'm kidding about the dollar. but it would be nice if you sent me money anyway.

i want to be a rockstar. who wants to go to Korean karaoke sometime soon? i've got the itch...

I was recently named the Fire Warden of the 39th floor of the Empire State Building. PRETTY BIG DEAL! I asked if i get a badge. I don't.

Blogees, you've missed out on a TON of subway fun this past month because i DON'T KNOW HOW TO TURN THE CAMERA NOISE OFF MY NEW PHONE, and therefore cannot slyly sneak in a picture of an unsuspecting stranger. i would have loved to have shown you the 37 year old exact replica of harry potter, and the guy who was carrying bags full of cans that were stacked together and tied up that in a matter that was taller and at least twice as wide as the man himself and the man who was wearing cowboy boots, tan corduroy pants, a tan suede fringe jacket, and a daniel boone fur hat- but with a blue feather, which was quite a lovely touch at 8:00am on a random friday. but i can't. because no one has fixed my sound settings. i hold all of you responsible for my lack of pictures to post in this entry. except for the one i posted above this paragraph.

question. are Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett the same person? which reminds me of something else i would like to know; How has the story of Johnny Appleseed survived this long? it has no bearing on anything even remotely relevant. yet has been passed down from generation to generation for far too long. how is it being taught in public schools? I don't know the Capital of South Dakota, I can only name 3 countries in Africa, I've never read A Tale of Two Cities, and yet i know the story of Johnny Appleseed. Thank you County Meadows Elementary School.

Back to me being famous because it's my favorite thing to talk about. and write about. I was googling myself the other day (duh) and found out that a video i made while i was living with Bridget and Tim about our apt has been picked up by TWO different websites. http://www.video.stiljete.com/apt-218--CASEY-NICOLE-WRIGHT__PqC-foqG0qQ.html
AND http://www.tradebit.com/filedetail.php/8463182-bridget-martin I don't know why a fitness/weight loss site picked up our video. but i'm glad they did. I also have been friends with Bridget for 6 YEARS and never knew she had an album available on CD baby. or that she had an irish accent. There's also a link to this very blog on an Architectural Interior Construction site on a list of "nicole wright" links. HOW WEIRD. http://jaimefuchslocher.fastpage.name/nicolewright/

like i should be judging other people's blog. I blog about the irrelevance of Johnny Appleseed.

I've always depended on the kindness of strangers

2010-10-06T20:46:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, while walking to the subway from my chiropractor's appointment, a stranger turned to me and said "don't marry for love."

I was waiting for a for the light to change at 48th and 5th. This was a well dressed 'business man' in midtown (aka corporate central for those of you unfamiliar with the likings of the big city).

I turned to him with a smile and said "good to know. i'll have to keep that in mind."

He replied "They're both going to break your heart. the poor guy will break your heart. so will the rich one-- but at least you'll walk away with some money."

the man has a point. luckily, i've never really planned on marrying for love anyway. I've always intended my first marriage to be devoted completely to my weekend at daddy's plan. hence the entire blog. Random man on 48th and 5th at 7:00 on a Tuesday evening, I am one step ahead of you.

baby's got blue skies up ahead

2010-09-02T16:24:00.003-04:00

nothing, i repeat nothing can make your commute home more enjoyable than this:

Wuv, Twu Wuv

2010-08-25T16:05:00.005-04:00

August 25, 2010

Dear Blog,

One day we will be together again and we will frolic in the meadow and go parasailing and go star gazing and climb a mountain and see the Eiffel Tour and find bear paw prints in the mud and feed each other chocolate covered strawberries and laugh at ugly people together and sip on champagne and get married and have babies and live happily ever after, just like this lovely couple.

However, until you start pulling your weight financially in this relationship, i'm stuck at my day job all day long with no time to spend with you. Do your part, blog.

With love to the moon and back
forever and for always your girl
xoxo
Casey Nicole

**special thanks to Alex for finding the pic

If i can make it here, i can make it anywhere

2010-08-09T20:03:00.007-04:00

the other day on my early morning commute to work, the woman standing next to me suddenly, and without warning

THREW UP ON MY FOOT.

Blogger, that's your largest font? you've got to be kidding me!

She then looked up at me and casually, quietly, politely said "i'm sorry." as if maybe she had stepped on my foot trying to get to a seat. I said "it’s ok" even though it’s not and took a step away from the pile of vomit. Although i should have just taken one for the team and stood by it the rest of the ride considering it was already covering one foot and had splashed onto the other.

I really had no f'ing clue what to do. i could have very easily thrown up right back at her, or cried. but instead, i instinctively laughed. not really at her, just quietly to myself. because there was vomit on my shoe and i was still 2 stops and short walk and an 39 floor elevator ride from my office. She's really lucky i'm so non-violent and have a strong stomach and passive aggressive and relatively nice.

When i got to my office, i went to the bathroom where i promptly threw away my shoes and washed my feet in the sink. i was wearing a skirt that was too short to put my feet in the sink-- something you never really consider when buying a skirt.

I guess overall it was worth it. 15 mins of vomit on my foot for a story that will last a lifetime. i'll take it. The most disappointing thing for me is that i had always imagined if someone was going to throw up on my shoes, it would be Kid Rock.

My brother in law is cooler than your brother in law.

2010-07-31T17:12:00.003-04:00

I am lucky enough to have a sister lucky enough to have married this phenomenally talented musician, Mr. Adam Pedersen. Here's a video from his last show. its so freaking goooood!

Fame and Fortune and Glory

2010-07-30T13:58:00.003-04:00

my show is famous! Check us out in NY Mag Y'all!!!!

so this post doesn't have a title. big whoop. wanna fight about it?

2010-07-15T13:02:00.008-04:00

I've had a very busy month of july. new job, family emergency, pet emergency, rehearsing 3 shows. i've been a busy girl. yet... really nothing to write about. how does that happen? my mind is too busy memorizing my lines, learning my duties at work, grieving over my cat and stressing about my father to entertain me?!?!? GET IT TOGETHER, BRAIN! i need you to be funny to me all the time or my life sucks.

heehee. duties at work. get it? like pooping in your place of employment? OR like poopoo that HAS a job and is currently doing it! yeah, that's a better mental image. lets go with that.

the good news is i really like everything i'm doing. ok i didn't "like" my dad being in the hospital, that's just cruel. But i did like spending time with my family.

OH here's a funny story! So i was standing on a packed train Monday morning on my way to work, sitting directly in front of me was a gentlemen in his 30's. Enter: Beautiful woman in her late 20's with long brown hair to my right. aka, not directly in front of this gentleman. He tries to get my attention, which he does because i am standing directly in front of him, i take out my earphone and he asks me to nudge the beautiful lady to get her attention, because she is not standing directly in front of him and is looking the other way. She then turns to him and he says to her "would you like to sit down?" and offers her his seat. She declines. they go back to their business. i pause while my brain processes the emotions i am feeling. Ok...i may not be a supermodel, but i am a model. just kidding. but my self esteem was bruised. i was SO astonished. So I gave them both dirty looks. which is when i realize the beautiful girl was pregnant. PHEW. offering a girl a seat because she's preggo is TOTALLY acceptable, and even admirable. offering a girl a seat because she's prettier than me is not ok. I guess that's not really a funny story in all actuality. it was a funny story for the 5 minutes i felt like shit about myself. maybe i should have just left it at that.

also this:Thanks to Kelheen for sending that to me.

OK, everyone. time to get on with your day.

c'est la V

2010-06-28T23:04:00.001-04:00

THANK GOODNESS someone read my blog and listened to my concern about how absolutely pointless the V train is... and as of yesterday, it will no longer be wasting my time.

my next problem with the MTA... when you make the change the M train (which now heads into midtown just in time for me to start my new job in the empire state building... which of course i think is great) to the orange line, when it's in brooklyn, on the J line, it looks absolutely terrible next to the brown. really, really bad. ugh... you were THIS close to having it right, MTA.

also, you neglected to answer a lot of other questions i had about the subway system. but i'll be patient.

Now on to the pedestrians of NYC. i can't even begin to tell you how much i hate you. but let me just offer at least this much advice. if you are a slow walker, that's fine. i understand. i'm from the midwest too, and at one point was a tourist. However. Don't walk in big groups that take up the entire sidewalk, your huge suitcase should stay directly behind you instead of taking up the entire sidewalk, and you should try to walk in a straight line instead of weaving back and forth taking up the entire sidewalk. I don't know if you realize this, but these cardinal sins of side-walking make it so i can NEVER get around you. its rude. I know you think New Yorkers are rude for sometimes being vocal about your interference, but we have jobs to go to. I mean.. i'm still too much of a polite young lady from the midwest to be vocal about this-- but just know, i am hating you in my brain.

'lady.' GOD i'm funny.

OH i almost forgot. best part of the new subway changes is at 14th and 6th....

How amazing is that? NYmag reports that they're changing it. I strongly urge you, MTA to not make such a mistake. this sign will brighten my day 100% of the time.

at least its memory will be preserved here. in my blog. forever.

Mon Frere, Derriere

2010-06-22T13:44:00.000-04:00

Hold on to your butts: this blog will contain graphic information. graphic, personal information. i should probably keep it to myself, but of course i won't. I feel a certain sense of social obligation as a writer to share it because its so funny, and sense of social obligation as a lady to not. I possess only enough knowledge of social 'norms' and 'guidelines' to recognize when i'm stepping outside the boundaries, and not enough to follow them. lady... who are we kidding.

I had my first Brazilian bikini wax.

don't worry--- that's not even the "too inappropriate to share" part.

I work at a spa, so i KNOW the girl. that's awkward. small talk without pants on-- or panties for that matter (who hasn't had a conversation with me pant-less)

Staring at my Vag, she asked "Are you one of those 'i look like i'm really young but i'm really married with kids' people?" are you talking about me or my vag? we are both 25 and single.

now here's the cherry on top.

"put your knees together and pull them to your chest." wait for it wait for it wait for it... " huh. you've got a lot of intricate stuff going on back here."

what?

wh-WHAT? what does that even mean?

she said it in such a neutral way i didn't know if it was a positive thing or negative. just very 'matter of fact' ly. your asshole hair is intricate.

was it exceptionally long? was there a lot of it? was the density of the hair different than other hair on my body? did it have natural highlights? was it braided in cornrows?

I must admit i don't really look at my own ass hair all that often, nor do i look at other people's. i feel the need to make some phone calls to some ex-lovers. "hey! its been a while, how are you? ok, ok, good, whatever. was the hair on my asshole ever--- distinguishable in anyway?"

Roger made the keen observation that i could have just waxed off the Picasso of Pubic hair. that it could be the biggest mistake of my life. my 'sliding doors' moment. Ellis is wondering if it was the source of all my powers. what if my blog writing suffers from this? Jared wonders if it was acting as a form of birth control-- sort of playing 'goalie.' (as you can imagine, this conversation lasted for hours). I guess we'll find out all of these things in due time.

Because i do embarrassing things all the time, i very rarely feel embarrassed. i've developed a tolerance. but i have to admit. this is going to go down in the books as being one of the more uncomfortable moments in my life.

i just googled 'butt jokes' to look for a good way to end this blog. couldn't find anything funny-- so that is your homework assignment. please leave a comment and amuse me with your best butt jokes.

look at meeeeee!

2010-06-17T19:25:00.005-04:00

If this doesn't get me nominated for an Oscar, I don't know what will....

Say it With a Hot Girl! Starring Casey Nicole Wright!

check out other sketches by Sans Pants Productions here. they is funny.

Moons over My Hammy

2010-05-19T13:41:00.000-04:00

bienvenido a my hammy.

I'm not going to even pretend for 1 single minute that i will be able to write a blog entry that has any 'flow' or 'logical transitions' or 'complete sentences.' not that that's ever been my specialty. but today is especially bad.

AMENDMENTS

In my last post, i mentioned that i broke my ipod. well turns out i'm a GENIUS and i fixed it all by myself. (then i dropped it that night and cracked the screen-- but it works. so you should save your money for other gifts for me.) FYI i also broke my Ipod about 2 weeks ago, and matt fixed it. maybe i should just start carrying around a diskman again. i never broke that mofo.

In a post i made a in January when i was talking about relating to every song i heard on the radio i made the following statement "'He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich.' Ok. this one i don't really understand let alone relate to, but i sure do like it." WELL. guess who not only knows what a vegemite sandwich is, but actually ate one?!?!? after having a "he" smile and give it to me? that's right I DID. thanks, Australians!

NEW DISCOVERIES
these things i've known deep down for a while, but am ready to go fully accept as part of ME and move on. here's my public announcement:

I can't eat pretzels or almonds with out choking on them. i need to be drinking water as i eat them. or, you know, not eat them, but that seems silly. Yes, i did just announce on a public blog that i choke on nuts. don't worry about it.

I've also come to terms with the fact that i simply need to be everyone's favorite all the time. I don't know where this complex started. Probably early in life when i was undoubtedly the favorite child or maybe its because i've always been the best at everything i do, so i deserve it. Its not like i'm selfish or stuck up. i just know that i am the prettiest and funniest and smartest and coolest and should be treated as such. no big deal.

i really hate painting my toe nails, yet i hate them being naked, and i hate paying for a pedicure. as you can see, this leaves me in quite a predicament. PEDIcament. i'm gonna have to suck it up and paint them because its driving me crazy. but i'm really dreading it. Yes. this is my subtle way of inviting you over to my apt to paint my toe nails.

ELLIS my most beloved brit is coming to visit me today!!!. next weekend i'm going to the beach with the boys- unfortunately not with the beach boys, but i'll make it work. the weekend after i get to go home for Caitlin's wedding and to play with the TWO babies my mom has in foster care right now. if i can just make it through the next 9 days of working all the GD time, its gonna be gravy. Mosquitoes say what? (katie don't worry... its totally catching on).

'venezuelan' does not look like a word. don't even try to argue that it does.

I'm gonna make myself stop writing now. Its either that, or i have to start judging all of you for continuing to read the shit i put on this blog. I'd rather maintain at least a little respect for you. (see how nice i am! this is why i should be your favorite.)

"I'm working so i won't have to try so hard"

2010-05-11T14:36:00.009-04:00

i've been bad at blogging lately. i'm sorry to let you down. turns out working 2 jobs sucks exponentially, logarithmically and aerodynamically more that working one-- according to the dewey decimal system.

also, nothing exciting has happened on the train. i haven't seen my roommates in what seems like weeks. i don't really go out anymore, because i've been working 10 hour days on saturdays, which ruins my friday night and my saturday. oh, and cus i'm old and lame and poor. BUT. i no longer work saturdays, and feel it is time to start making my own luck.

ideas.

1.) Get some sort of 'baby bump' to wear to bars. binge drink, maybe pick up smoking. see what people say. (I will also wear this baby bump on the train so people have to give me their seat.)
2.) Start sitting right next to people on trains/buses that are completely empty.
3.) Start offering strangers gum/mints/fruit snacks as i'm eating them. i think its the polite thing to do.
4.) greet perfect strangers as if i know them. "Hey man! how have you been? haven't seen you in years!" See how many people play along. i've actually done this on accident before. He replied "i don't think i know you" which was when i realized- no. no he did not. but i just said "Uh... i think you do." and walked away. let him think he's the crazy one.

i think my parents would be proud of me for setting goals with my life.

thats really all i gots. pathetic, i know.

OH also i broke my ipod. so someone should buy me a new one. ready, set, GO!

PS when you do a google image search for "the strokes 'i'm working so i don't have to try so hard'" this is what comes up:

a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck

2010-04-23T09:58:00.014-04:00

One thing I'm grateful for in regards to my childhood:
My family never wore matching outfits on vacations or in portraits. My mom would dress Emily and I in coordinating outfits when we were little-- and we accidentally did so ourselves in high school and would argue over who had to change. and since high school, we still accidentally match, but have learned to love it. We've been known to show up to outings coming from different cities wearing the same outfit. as pictured here in this... picture:

on this particular occasion, we were going to a Memorial Day service in our home town. Emily Drove in from Ann Arbor (Muck Fichigan), me from East Lansing (Sparty On!) when she walked in-- late-- we looked at each other and tried so hard not to laugh we started crying. and had to pass it off as if we were just really moved by the service as everyone bowed their heads in prayer. Also, as indicated by the picture above, we had twins in foster care at the time. who were, of course, dressed as twins should be; like twins. We made one handsome couple of couples that sunny afternoon.

The only time we dressed alike as a family of 6 (plus a couple of unsuspecting significant others who would inevitably, eventually break up with my siblings) was when my dad decided we should all wear Hawaiian shirts to a family reunion/50th anniversary party where my aunt and uncle were renewing their vows. Being 16 and super cool and hip and popular at the time, i thought it was stupid, and was silently pissed at my dad. looking back-- i think its HILARIOUS. quick important detail; we all wore the same Hawaiian shirt! that's so amazing! I wish i had a picture of it to post. It was the happiest i've ever seen my dad. I kept a close eye on him during my sister's wedding 6 years later to see if anything rivaled this moment-- walking her down the aisle, daddy daughter dance, etc etc-- nothing. note to self. solidify spot as 'favorite child' by letting dad wear a Hawaiian shirt to my black tie wedding.

my mom has a picture of the Hawaiianness. i'll make her scan it. Emily once referred to the picture as the 'time Dad got to drive the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile,' as that is the only thing that could elicit such an expression of pure joy that had overwhelmed my father's face. She was right. the rest of us may have been in the lobby of a hotel in Indiana, PA. But at that moment in time, he was driving the weinermobile.

oh wait.. i was supposed to be writing about why i'm glad we don't dress alike. what i was actually referring to was those custom made shirts that say something like "The Wright Stuff: Summer Vaca 1996" and have a picture of Mickey Mouse superimposed to your latest family portrait and are brightly colored so no one gets lost at the theme park. I'm glad i never had to wear one of those. I'm also glad i've never had to dress the same as my mother-- like, the exact outfit from head to toe. no offense, she's a wonderful woman. I saw a 14 year old girl and her mother walking down the street the other day in matching little get-ups, and i wanted to puke, then call my mother and thank her for her better judgment in that regard.

Outfits that match from head to toe in general are a bad idea-- even if it just matches itself. I saw a women with bright yellow jeans, a yellow t-shirt under a yellow jean vest, white shoes with yellow stripes and her fingernails were painted yellow, too. that is simply too much yellow. mix it up. coordinate an outfit... don't match it to everything on your body. I also saw a woman dressed in all pink the very same day. Solid pink cottonish cropped pants and a cotton ruffled pink shirt that matched exactly-it may have actually been a pajama set. her daughter was also wearing pink- but not quite matching. same shade different cut and style-- so i'll let it slide. also, she was pregnant, so she looked like a puffalump.

it was actually the shade of pink of that bunny's ears. no self respecting adult should wear that color on more than 10% of their body. it might have even been that material....

One thing i regret in regards to my childhood:
I wish i was raised in a culture where "Sunday Best" included some type of elaborate hat.

no more rhyming... i mean it. does anyone want a peanut?

2010-04-16T11:09:00.009-04:00

To celebrate my new job in marketing... Check out these cool links!

1) the spa i work at.
2) the band that just moved into my building
3) my sister's video blog
4) my roommates show that just got extended... again.

i'm so good at my job.

Other thoughts/ discoveries this week.

I wish you could capitalize numbers.

I saw a lady on the bus curling her eyelashes with a spoon. for real. I stared at her a lot.

I had a cab driver who didn't speak english to the point that he had me write down the address of where i was going. Then when we got close, he said "tell me where you want," and i said "stop" 3 times before he understood me. He also listened to "learn to speak english" tapes (by tapes i mean CDs) the entire time. i thought that was a pretty good reason to not have to tip him. it was seriously the most annoying thing in the world. but instead i tipped him extra. i think he deserved it. he was trying really hard.

I've contemplated a way to get/reason why i deserve/reason why its convenient to get Popeye's chicken every day this week. but i have not eaten it once. i'm so proud of myself. i did, however, resort to eating pop-tarts for breakfast again. but i do deserve that, so its ok.

I dropped of 44lbs of laundry on monday, then watched TV for about 6.5 hours. it was a amazing. in hindsight, i should have done my taxes. but whatchagonna do.

that's all she wrote...

question of the day...

2010-04-03T22:20:00.003-04:00

do anxiety attacks count as cardiovascular exercise?

20 mins 3X/week? please. on that shit like white on rice. I'm gonna live forever. or. die of from an anxiety disorder related incident before i'm 30. either way i"m gonna save a lot of money on gym memberships.

but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for

2010-03-22T22:08:00.014-04:00

So, we all know how much i hate dating in this city. or lack there of. My friend Katie has recently created a template for an online dating profile on her blog. It was hilarious, so i've decided to straight up steal her idea.

Date Me, Too.

A Realistic Portrayal of Casey Nicole Wright
based on motivation by Katie of the Sea

From blog

Username:

GetUpInTheseGuts84

I am controlling, conceited, and pessimistic

(three words to describe myself)

My Self Summary

Can't seem to trick boys into dating me in real life, so its time to move onward and upward. Online dating!

I would say I have no idea what i want in life and am therefore open to new experiences, and 100% determined and set in my ways. I believe in hopes and dreams. I want to be an actress if/when i grow up. I am currently partially unemployed, so I'm looking for someone with enough money to support me and my drinking habits-- which includes the occasional m-f 40's/bottle of wine from the bodega/home made martini's with my roommates and the fri-sun bar crawl until i pass out or throw up with my friends. It would be really nice if i didn't have to get another soul sucking part time job so i can focus all of my energy on sleeping in and buying new outfits.

I'm very loyal. to my friends. i spend a lot of my free time with them, and will expect you to join right in so you can see me. warning: don't expect that just because i'll eat half chewed food out of my friend's mouth to prove that i'm really his best friend, that i'll do anything to prove my love for you. you're the man. its your job to prove that to me. call me old fashioned....

I come from a very loving and supportive family; we’re very close. When my brother and sisters planned a hiking trip in Colorado and didn’t invite me, I didn’t even tell them how much it bothered me. I’m just a really understanding, passive aggressive person. I’m looking for someone who knows how to smile through passive aggressive comments, or you will not survive holidays with my family.

Every girl has daddy issues, you should know i would quantify mine as 'extra medium.'

I love children, but probably won't have any of my own. seems like a lot of work/time/money, and my husband is going to have his hands full putting up with my needs... i'd feel bad putting him in charge of the children as well. Plus I've promised rental space of my uterus to about 1 million gays, and there's only so much 'fertile' time left. I'm not 13 anymore!!!

Speaking of 13, i have the figure of a prepubescent boy. I make up for it with my radiantly blue eyes (a homeless man once proposed to me in the middle of the street because he thought they were so beautiful), blond hair that is always styled and trendy (my picture is all over the salon I used to work at... and in a few Detroit based magazines) and modesty.

...remember when i said i love children... i think i mean their sense of humor, as it is strikingly similar to my own. If you don't think a knock knock joke, a joke i find on a Popsicle stick or laffy taffy wrapper, or a poop joke is funny, its ok. i'll be happy to explain it to you until you do, or until i'm laughing so hard i can't breathe.

lets see... what else. when i wear sunglasses, i think i can say whatever i want because people can't see me, which means they probably can't hear me either. So if i say something rude and you look over at me and see me in my shades, don't worry, i didn't mean for you to hear it and would NEVER say it to your face if i wasn't wearing sunglasses.

Where you fit in: I'm not really looking for someone to keep me company when i'm lonely, cus i live with 3 boys and treasure whatever alone time i can get, or hold me when i'm crying because i've become accustomed to doing that by myself alone in the dark or on the subway with complete strangers, or even make me laugh, cus i laugh at my own jokes ALL the time. I'm really just looking for someone to take me nice dinners and buy me pretty things. I would like nothing more than to become a trophy wife one day. Although i'm not very good at being socially acceptable, so you probably shouldn't try to 'show me off' in front of your friends. I drop something, spill something, run into something or fall down at least 3 times a day.

What I'm Doing with My Life

Working a few meaningless part time jobs to pay the bills, blogging, pretending to be a socialite but without the class or elegance or money, and apologizing to my father for all of the dollars he spent on my college education.

I'm Really Good At

Coming up with witty insults in record time. you can say just about anything... and i'll have something negative to say about it split seconds later.

The First Thing People Usually Notice about Me

my bangs. but i'm not a hipster, i swear. i stopped shopping at american apparel YEARS ago when it started becoming too trendy. now most of the clothes i buy are vintage.

Favorite Books, Music, Movies and Food

BOOKS - Everyone Poops.

MUSIC - any song that has "do do do's" or "la la la's" instead of real words in the chorus

MOVIES - The Godfather (which i've actually never seen, but it's a classic)

FOOD - If it's free, it's me.

Six Things I Could Never Do Without

1. poop jokes 2. orange soda 3. Heating pads (serious addiction) 4. Ancient Egypt 5. Spell Check 6. hot dogs

I Spend a Lot of Time Thinking about

The fact that I’m not a famous movie star and in a serious relationship with a rock star/doctor/lawyer/banker yet. That shit just boggles my mind!!! I’m SUCH a catch! People are always so surprised when they meet me to learn that I’m single AND am not signed with a single talent agency in NYC. I try to explain to them that i don't understand it either, but i feel uncomfortable talking about myself. i'm really down to earth. my fans appreciate that about me... just a small town midwest girl trying to make it in the big city.

On a Typical Friday Night I Am

Predrinking for Saturday night.

The Most Private Thing I'm Willing to Admit Here

~I once cried at a Beyonce concert because the song "Irreplaceable" was so moving.
~ i'm way more prone to buying new underwear than carrying my laundry bag 2 blocks to the Laundromat where i drop of my clothes for someone else to clean and fold, cus i know i'm just gonna have to walk there tomorrow and pick them up and carry them all the way home.

~i have trouble pronouncing the words "biological" and "aesthetically" and "dresser" or "dress" or any word beginning with a "dr"

You Should Message Me If
you are James Franco, Pete Doherty or Richie Sambora

You have day dreams about Rat C.E.O's and meetings they hold in the subway.

you are looking for a funny witty girl to treat like a princess. only don't ever call me a princess because it just has such a negative connotation these days.

not even on cold meds anymore...

2010-03-14T23:14:00.004-04:00

Sometimes when i wear these slippers i'm afraid they're gonna take over my entire body and i will turn into a monster.

it hasn't happened yet, so thats good. although i think i'd be more of a friendly monster than a scary monster. so i guess i would be ok with it.

So... do you come here often?

2010-03-12T19:27:00.004-05:00

things you shouldn't do if you're trying to pick up a girl at a bar. My second installation.

1.) Open with the line "Do you like Cleavland Steamers."
maybe this is a funny thing to say after you've been talking to a girl for a while, and you've established the fact that you are being funny and you're not actually going to shit on her chest. as an opener.... never.

2.) Punch her in the face four times while you're dancing with her.
if you don't know how to do fancy spins without punching a girl in the face, don't do fancy spins. and if you punch her in the face once, do not do 3 more spins and continue to punch her in the face.

3.) Lets say you actually do get a girls attention, and you get her to approach you. such as in the following scenario. Last night i was wearing a shirt that on the front said "Franks Says Relax" and the back said "don't do it." A guy tapped me on the shoulder and opened his blazer to reveal a shirt that said "just do it." So I walked up to him and said "Are you my soulmate?" (sorry KTDM) He said "no. your shirt says 'don't do it.' mine says 'just do it.' i'm just saying, maybe you shouldn't be so uptight." and he said it as if he was serious. My advice is, maybe stick with something a little more positive and opens the door for more conversation.

I will say that my "be a condescending bitch to boys who use douchy pick up lines on you because it will at least be funny for you since this is clearly not gonna go anywhere" game kinda backfired last night.
As i was talking to my friends, some dude came up and said "You're not even gonna say hi to me?" i condescendingly said "oh. sorry for being so rude. my bad." He said "how have you been?" i condescendingly said "You mean since the last time i saw you? i'd say i'm doing alright, yourself" he said "do you not remember me?" but he's still saying it as if he's playing some sort of game or dropping some sort of line, so i continue to be condescending and say "oh of course i do. we're like BFFs, hang out all the time! good to see you!" he said "no seriously. i've met you like 6 times." What he didn't know was that i have a very good memory of at least faces if not names. i would have believed him if he said he had seen me at party or a club or whatever, but MET me 6 times seems unlikely. so i ask "Oh really? Whats my name?" he thinks for second and says "i can't think of it but i know it starts with a C" could be a lucky guess. but guessing 'c' generally isn't a good 'go to' for a girls name. I'm starting to think maybe i HAD met this kid "i say yes. its casey. and yours?" he answers "Brian. You're friends with T Wigg right?" shit. yes. i am friends with Tom Wigg, thats who i was there with that night. "i went to high school... and actually middle school with him." oops! i ask "So... I actually know you?" he says "Yes. I've hung out with you multiple times with drewmate and HWP Jones the third, you're on all tom's mass email lists.. i think i have an email from you on my phone right now." no way to recover from that. i smile say "Oh, right, Brian. of course i remember you! how have you been?" he says "you have no idea who i am do you?"

he was correct. i apologized to Tom for being a complete and utter condescending bitch to his friend. I apologized to him later explaining that I'm not usually a huge bitch, i just thought he was trying to use a douchy pick up line on me, and i don't deal with that very well. he said he understood.

casey+single=forever.

come on ride the train... and ride it.

2010-03-05T13:32:00.002-05:00

another spectacular find on the train this week.

a man. dressed in a red tight v-neck shirt. bright orange pants, with tanning lotioned skin to match, with black shoulder length curly hair. like.... spiral curls. i checked if it was a wig multiple times. approximate age: 32.

he was siting on the same 'bench' as i was, with one person between us. he kept mumbling to himself, most of if too quiet to make out, even after i turned of my ipod to devote my full attention to him. But what i did hear him say was simply amazing.

"Go to Chicago. IF you have $8000 in your bank account" starts laughing as if $8000 is them most unreasonable thing he's ever heard. "the only way to get there though is from broadway to 23rd"

we were at 14th street and the train conductor announced transfers and connections. the man said "PATH TRAIN!?! AWESOME!!!" then got super serious and said "whoops! shouldn't have heard that."

"does anyone have some sunkist? i really need the caffeine"

"what happened to our story about the gardener?"

unfortunately, those are really the only things i could make out. but i'm sure whatever he was saying the rest of our 17ish minute relationship on the F train was simply amazing. i really wish i could have taken a picture of him, but i was afraid he would totally notice and kick the shit out of me.

Sometimes i play dress up.

2010-02-28T17:34:00.005-05:00

Styleline Magazine did an article on FIGO salon in Birmingham, MI. My FIGO Family flew me home so I could model for them. I was extremely flattered and honored. Rino and Kristina always do such a great job with photoshoots, and this was no exception. Plus it was great to hang out with all my old coworkers and friends for a weekend. Here's some of the pics from the shoot. (Hair and Styling by Kristina Marra of FIGO salon, Make up by Justin Ruppel of FIGO salon Photography by John Roe)

here's a link to the article in case you'd like to read it. especially pages 56-60 as well as the table of contents on page 13. some one might be famous.

i think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.

2010-02-28T15:58:00.006-05:00

86.3 the groove recently celebrated its one year anniversary. CONGRATS TO US. an entire year living together, and no one has died. or gone to jail. that's truly remarkable. We also recently (or about a month ago) started renovating our apartment to make it look like grown ups live here. or at least a house full of good actors who from time to time like to play make believe. we still have a little work to do, but what we've done so far is looking prettttty good. i really do LOVE my roommates and feel so happy and honored to be a part of this somewhat dysfunctional, but ultimately loving and supportive family we've created here in nyc.

Here's some pictures courtesy of Roger.

It also was nice to spend all weekend couped up in the apartment together with nothing but good company, good conversation and some paint fumes. We had a lot of good conversations about Sylvia Plath, were jared reminded me that i couldn't say things like "i just can't imagine killing myself while my children were in the house" because i'm not a mother yet. i may or may not still feel like that when the time comes. we read parts of the Kinsey report after a discussion of the Feminine Mystique where i finally found motivation to go to grad school. "Women with higher education are more likely to orgasm than women who get married young." These bachelor's degree O's just aren't cutting it for me. I also remembered how funny the name "Patches O'Houlihan" was. I said "you know whats funny? the name Patches O'Houlihan." and laughed to myself for 25 minutes.

matt also had one of the wittiest quickest comebacks i've ever heard.

Casey: Aren't you guys glad i'm not a total girlie girl, and i'm actually handy around the house?
Matt: I'll be a lot happier when i start receiving those handies.

another important discovery made while working on these renovations. the True Value 2 blocks from our house in the most happenin' place in brooklyn. every time we went to the hardware store we'd end up staying for at least an extra half an hour laughing about things such as 11" ballcocks. and the music there is better than any club i've been to in the city. i'm not even joking. now if only we could get them to fix the soda machine so we could be drinking orange soda while we walk around, and stay open til 4am, i think we may just have ourselves a new hangout.

Hey good lookin, whatcha got cookin

2010-02-25T21:48:00.010-05:00

I've decided as part of our 3.5 week detox (that was officially ruined on the first day of our detox. by about 6pm) I'm going to cook more. mostly because i'm poor. also because people seem to like reading food blogs. and because i'm really sick of the sorry excuses for "Restaurants" in Bushwick. Except chinese food, but i can no longer go back there.

a couple weeks ago, i decided to stop by the Chinese take out place conveniently locate at the steps of the subway. I ordered my food, paid, threw a dollar on the counter and patiently waited for my orange chicken. he gave me my food, and stared at the dollar on the counter. "Miss?" he said. "Yeah, thats for you" i said. He looked at me like i was crazy. thats when i remembered that you don't tip for chinese FOOD you tip for chinese food DELIVERY. or a waiter at an actual restaurant, i suppose. not some guy working behind a counter at what would be equivalent to a McDonald's. embarrassing. so i'm never going back. i don't need their slanty eyes of judgment. (racial).

so i came home and cooked. and what a beautiful i prepared, if i do say so myself.

i know what you're thinking. "WOAH! Where'd you learn to cook a meal like that??? did you graduate from some sort of culinary school? is the plate sitting on a chair because you don't own a kitchen table or an end table? Are those fish filets from a box? did those waffle fries come pre-seasoned??? what brand of ketchup did you use? Do you and your roommates own an entire set of blue plastic cutlery?"

you know what, guys? I don't have time to answer those questions, ok! I'm really busy avoiding looking at my bank statement, not doing my own laundry and sitting next to 3 months of gas bills that haven't been paid even though we only own national grid approximately $6 each. I will tell you this. i'm going to make some man so happy someday.

Best part of the meal, however, is yet to come. When i went to the bodega next door to buy an orange soda, i was lucky enough to find the most perfectest desert:

just in case you folk in the back can't quite read that, its called a BUBU LUBU. Don't mind if i DOBU. this candybar seems a little too good to be TRUEBU. the best part about it....

it looks like Hanky the Christmas POOBU.

ok i'll stop.

but if you have any questions, feel free to call the number listed on the back of the candy bar. they seem to encourage it. (too small for a photograph, so i'll have to type it out) GET IN TOUCH WITH US. 18 77 22 47 374 A good Americanly formatted phone number. i can't guarantee it'll be a toll free call.

A post-pubescent meal such as this can mean one thing: I don't respect myself.

i did manage to use the oven all by myself. Gold star for me.

Detox: 2010

2010-02-22T15:21:00.003-05:00

Its time for what has become an annual event at 86.3 the groove. our infamous 2 week Detox. Starting today until St. Patty's day, the 4 of us will give up substance abuse, fried food and i give up shitty television. Last year we were all 100% successful. I have nothing but complete faith that we will pull it off again. only one problem. I just realized we miscalculated and St Patty's day is actually 3.5 weeks away. i guess thats what we get for being such wastoids. we can't even put together a proper detox. we should have planned this when we were sober. shit.

"no you can't have my number, cus i lost my phone"

2010-02-21T20:44:00.006-05:00

luckily for me, a homeless woman found it and called my parents 7 times starting at 6:30am. and anthony a little before 9. and bully's deli twice. which is super strange because i had ordered a sandwich from there on tuesday night, but don't have the number saved in my phone. i googled it out of curiosity when i got home. so she either scrolled thru ALL of my outgoing calls and found the only 212 number i've called all week, or she, too, wanted a buffalo chicken wrap. no calls to any foreign countries, so thats good. My parents called both my roommates, twice each, leaving voicemails about my safety and where abouts. i was sleeping soundly on drew's couch. I actually didn't think it was a big deal when i realized i had lost my phone and called it to check my voicemail and found out that some crazy homeless lady found it. a little surprised when she answered. I was caught off guard and could only think to say "Hello? do you have my phone?" Drew kindly informed me "if she says no, she's lying." The whole thing went a lot more smoothly than when i left my phone in a cab a few months ago, and the cab driver called roger, but didn't speak english and kept yelling "TELEPHONO" and then hanging up. Why even bother getting in touch with me if you're going to make zero effort to give me my phone back? or speak english. But apparently it was kind of a big deal to people like my parents. Crazy homeless lady informed me that she had called both of my parents, and apologized in case she got me in trouble. "no, they're cool. its fine" I called my Dad to let him know i had tracked my phone and was gonna go pick it up (AKA would not be borrowing $200 for a new blackberry) and he said "well i can finally breathe now. do you have any idea what its like to get a phone call from some crazy homeless woman that she's found your daughters phone in pieces in the streets of new york city and have no way to get in contact with you?" i can't really say that i do, but i would imagine it wasn't the most pleasant morning in my household. "hold on, let me get your mother so she can hear your voice." The crazy homeless lady had told my mother she found it "on these damn dirty streets." my mother called jared explaining 'apparently casey was in a not so great place last night..." which is really funny to me because i was at "avenue" in the meat packing district. i probably dropped my phone getting into the limo that took us home.

people who were contacted in order to find me/my phone for those of you keeping track:
-Mom
-Dad
-Anthony
-Bully's Deli
-Emily
-Jared
-Roger
-Matt
-Carrie
-Katie
-Harry
-Drew
-Kelly K
-Cory

so that was the great search and rescue mission of 2010. there was actually a lot of details that were left out of that story because i felt like it was getting too long and boring. but lets just say losing my phone was possibly a bigger deal than baby jessica falling in that well. which, all said and done, i really do appreciate. good to know so many people care about me enough to track me down and make sure i'm not dead for my parents.

thats not really what i wanted to blog about today though. I wanted to start a new segment of my blog called "things you shouldn't say to a girl to try to pick her up at a bar." But that lily allen song 'knock em out' came on and i thought it was a good title... and the rest is history. so... without any further ado... "things you shouldn't say to a girl to try to pick her up at a bar." this will probably, most likely, unfortunately, be a reoccurring segment of my blog.

"just because i can't remember your name doesn't mean i'm not obsessed with you"

"You seem like a girl i could talk to for more than 20 minutes without wanting to kill myself"

"your boyfriend doesn't appreciate your haircut"

"we kinda had a bet going to see if you girls were on a first date or something. we've been watching you all night."

those things are complimentary or interesting. Ok, i lied, the haircut line has a 50% chance of eliciting a response. i just personally refuse to reward any boy for a line like that where i have to start out my response with "i don't have a boyfriend." don't think you're tricking us with that. we know exactly what you're trying to do. it is not slick or subtle. but, the idea of my haircut being underappreciated is hilarious. I do like to reward things that are creative and funny.

Now, a one act play.

PLACE: Puck Fair. New York, NY
TIME: a couple weeks ago
CAST: The role of Casey will be played by Casey. The role of boy will be played by a boy at puck fair.
Lights up! and.. go.
Boy: "Can i buy you a drink"
Casey: "oh, no thats ok. actually my friends and i are about to leave"
Boy: "Oh come on, stay for one drink."
Casey: "No i really can't, but thank you for the offer"
Boy: "No don't worry about it, its on the company card."

Casey thinks to herself "where exactly to do work that i am considered a business expense?" slash "oh thank god! for a minute i was worried that you were gonna spend $8 of your OWN money on a drink i didn't want in the first place." but boy has walked away too quickly for her to chose which to say to him.

Boy reenters the scene with an 18oz bottle of beer and a glass. *note to the properties master: beer bottles don't exist in that size, but if this kid can make it happen so can you. Casey pours half of the beer in the glass and hands it to the boy. they talk (casey should not be portrayed as a complete bitch. she is actually being quite polite to boy's face), Casey passes the bottle she's drinking out of to the 4 friends accompanying her in an effort to finish it quickly and leave (note from the playwright. casey is kind of a bitch).

Boy: "I'm sorry 3 of my friends came over here to talk to you earlier"
FLASHBACK: montage of 3 boys separately approaching Casey as she's pleasantly talking with her friends to tell her how outstanding she looks. she is flattered, and very surprised, but not impressed. Cut back to present time.
Boy: I think i lost my job today, so they're trying to set me up with you because you're so hot."

And... Curtain.

what. how do you even respond to that?

Now, i do give guys that hit on me at bars a little bit of credit. it takes balls to walk up to me because i'm constantly surrounded by dudes where ever i go. it actually really doesn't happen that often, so you would think with the amount of complaining about being single that i've done that 'beggars can't be choosers' and i should treat these prospective future boyfriends a little more delicately. however, i am not impressed by 'game' at all, and i will not put up with it. i recognize that shit immediately and make sure do everything in my power to make it as difficult as possible for a guy to get any information out of me at all. or i just don't respond at all and find an excuse to walk away if i'm feeling courteous. but most of the time, i'm condescending as hell. as i should be. at least its a little more entertaining for me. i think pick up lines that aren't funny are just insulting to my intelligence. which is why i've listened to that lily allen song four times while writing this entry.

"Oh yeah, actually yeah I'm pregnant, having a baby in like 6 months so no."

"Umm... i'm like, getting married next week. yeah, seriously."

"Nah I've gotta go cos my house is on fire, I've hot Herpes, err no I've got syphilis..."

don't be surprised if you hear me saying any of those things to some rando at some point. in an english accent. also, don't be surprised when i die alone with my cat and gallons upon gallons of ice cream wearing some type of jogging running windpant attire.

i thought love was only true in fairytales

2010-02-17T11:00:00.008-05:00

first and foremost. i'm a nerd.

now, on with the blog entry:
Last week, KTDM and I went to the Guggenheim to see their Motion and Emotion... presentation? series? it wasn't an exhibit. but i don't really know what its called. It was a speaker, Biological Anthropologist Dr. Helen Fisher talking about the science of love, and two dancers from the Paris Ballet doing 3 pieces about love. a cruel reminder that i'm not in love, nor am i a ballerina. Happy Valentines day to me. I've come to terms with the fact that i will never be an actual ballerina. I stopped taking ballet when i was 4, which was my first mistake. I had one last hoorah in high school with my " good witch of the north" ballet solo. I think i've milked that lack of talent for all its worth at this point. However, i did learn a lot about love that i think i will use in my future. actually not really. I learned about the brain systems that are engaged when one feels 'in love' and the evolutionary reasoning behind the human tendency toward monogamous relationships , and a little about why we choose the people we fall in love with. So not necessarily useful information in my quest to get married in the next 6 months so i can quit my job and audition full time, but I'm a huge nerd and loved every second of it. i was actually a little upset that i didn't have a pen and notepad when i was there. I'll probably buy all of her books. I won't bore you with more details. unless you ask me to. in which case, i may even pull out my old training folder from Olin Health Center and my Interpersonal Relationships class notes and give you a full blown presentation. i will get so excited as i'm talking about it i'll probably get tears in my eyes. just like when i talk about Egypt. which i actually don't know that much about, but am so fascinated by.

I will just say, Dr. Fisher has a quiz up online based from her book 'Why Him, Why Her.' Its one of the more accurate personality tests i've taken. If you're into that sort of thing. the website is http://www.chemistry.com/whyhimwhyher/ yes, it is on a dating site, but its still really interesting.

It was also a reminder that i actually could go back to school for something if i really needed to. I don't know if Biological Anthropology is the right path, as it sounds like a LOT more school and a LOT of science. But maybe a masters in Public Health and study Sexual Health Education. Working as a creative consultant in sexual health in college was HANDs down the best JOB i've ever had. those two words were not capitalized for dramatic effect in context of the sentence, just for the record.

But... who are we kidding. my true passion is still acting. or directing. but mostly acting. However, when i am rich and famous and ready to donate some time/money back into the community, i'm gonna start a theatre troupe like the one i did in college (In Your Face Reality Theatre) and travel to inner high schools. may have to tone it down a little for high schoolers though.

so... thats what i'm gonna do when i grow up.

sorry. sometimes i'm a nerd.

Sisterly love

2010-02-12T12:47:00.009-05:00

More fun Stories about my priceless little sister Emily, with special appearance by my older sister, Kelly.

to begin... a picture. all three girls. making our "dad" face. For those of you who have never met my dad, this is what he looks like.

You would think that since i am older than emily by a full 17 months, that i would have had the upperhand growing up. and maybe even a little now... i am still older. and taller. This has never been true. i have always been the one that gets picked on. always the victim of the practical jokes. especially when emily and kelly join forces. I guess i am the middle child, and should have expected it.

the good news for me is, they're usually not very good at pulling off aforementioned practical jokes. For example, when i come back from the bathroom to kel and emily sitting at the table staring at me with huge grins on their faces as i sit down, and start urging me to drink my coke, i am smart enough to not do it. "c'mon Casey, aren't you thirsty? drink your coke casey, just drink it! its gonna get warm. its gonna go flat. you better drink it!" "what did you guys do to my drink" "nothing. just drink it." "... no. what did you do." "um.... maybe we put a baby carrot in it. " then they start cracking up, and i go dump out the rest of my soda.

or years later at my great-grandmother's FUNERAL i disappeared for a few minutes for whatever reason, and when i came back to my sisters standing outside the funeral home, they hand me my chocolate milk and say 'taste it its really good.' this time they had mixed in some cream soda into my chocolate milk. to this day they swear it was good. i was still mad.

the meanest thing they ever did was when we would all be going around spitting off jokes round-table style and after a few jokes, when i would say something, they would both stop laughing and just look at me. that's a terrible thing to do to someone's self esteem. they eventually told me that the DID do it on purpose, but it wasn't actually planned. it just so happened that they both decided to stop laughing at me on the same joke ALL the time. thanks girls.

but the all time best joke emily has ever played on me was my senior year of high school. Emily and I had just had our wisdom teeth out. The whole process really grossed me out. we all know how i feel about the dentist. and losing teeth. add on top of that the fact that there were dissolving stitches?!?! I'm sorry, i promised to go a full week without a story about me being a big baby, but i can't. that shit is gross. For those of you who have never had dissolving stitches, the adjective 'dissolving' isn't quite correct. the just kinda fall out into your mouth. 2 inches of gross stitches all of a sudden on your tongue. anyone who is NOT a baby about that probably has something wrong with them. SO, i'm eating one of my first meals of solid food, a plate of spaghetti, and talking on the phone (i think to chris hall, actually) i stand up, leave the room, come sit back down on the couch and finished my spaghetti. (we rarely had family dinners at a table... for reasons which are probably mostly emily's fault. an up coming blog entry i'm sure) Emily enters the room again and stares at me and laughs as if she's pulled off yet another practical joke.
C: what did you do
E: wasn't it funny?!?!
C: wasn't what funny?
E: the spaghetti
C: what about it? what did you do?
E: the stitches.
C: What are you talking about?
E: one of my stitches fell out. i put it on your spaghetti
C: (gagging) WHAT? no i didn't see it!
E: I put it right on top!
C: I was talking on the phone! i probably didn't even see it! i probably stirred my spaghetti when i sat down and never even looked it!
E: (look of absolute horror sweeps across her face) Do you think you... ate... my stitches?
C: PROBABLY! (panic, terror, puke, tears)
E: I put it right on top! how did you not see it? (laughing nervously)
C: How do you put stitches in someone's food and then leave the room?

I was pretty mad. and grossed out. and rightfully so. But even at the time, i kind of though it was funny, and she was pretty hilarious for doing it. So i told all my friends the next day at school. it was a pretty good story. what am i talking about 'was' a good story... clearly it 'is' a good story. or i wouldn't be writing about it in my precious blog. only the best for you, dearest blog.

about 6 years later, emily looked at me and said "remember the time you ate my stitches" which she liked to do from time to time to laugh at me and watch me gag. i answered begrudgingly 'yes.' then she looks at me in all seriousness and says "that never happened. i never put my stitches in your spaghetti." um. what? "i just thought it would be funny to watch your reaction if i told you i did. i would never let you actually eat my stitches." but... you let me believe i ate your stitches for 6 years. "yeah, i was pretty funny." emily, i told everyone i know that story . " I KNOW. i had to go around and tell EVERYONE you told that you didn't!"

so. emily is funnier than me. i've accepted that a long time ago. but she's also a better actress than me. i believed her for SIX YEARS. and she's way more dedicated than me. i though i'd do anything for a joke.. but geese louise. retracing my steps and correcting the story to everyone i told! oh yeah, and letting the joke play on for SIX YEARS if i hadn't mentioned that. damn, she's good. it actually wouldn't surprise me if in 6 years from now she told me it was true, that i, in fact, did eat her stitches my senior year of high school. at which point i will punch her in face.

hats off to you, heendog.

Train-y

2010-02-10T13:39:00.004-05:00

more backlogging of fun train stories. This is from last spring sometime. I was heading to work on a tuesday, back in the Arrojo Studio days when i didn't leave my house til 10. At one of the stops, a 6'3" tranny get on and stumbles to the seat across from me, and sits down next to a Hasidic Jew. already a great start to my day. The tranny is clearly coming off of a 5+ day bender, and is searching in her purse for something. then she pulls out a chandelier earring, attempts to untangle it and places it in one of her ears. then she finds the other one in her purse attempts to put it in her ear, raising her arm up to her ear, but half way through, stops. because she has FALLEN ASLEEP. her arm very slowly drops down to her side, as her head starts falling to the side, and her entire body starts shifting towards the Hasidic Jew. He looks terrified. but doesn't really do anything. she then jerks awake and sits up, resumes earring application, but falls asleep again. and shifts toward the Hasidic Jew again. I am at this point leaning forward in anticipation, jaw dropped, eyes wide. If she woke up and saw me, she probably would have beat the shit out of me for so rudely staring/judging her. i would have deserved it. i was not being subtle at all. Then at the next stop, she jerked awake, stood up, and stumbled off the train. I don't think she even knew where she was. I was a little disappointed. i would have liked to have seen how that whole thing played out. Even without her ever falling ON the h.jew, it was still so fantastic to watch. i heart new york.

I got a pocket full of dreams, baby i'm from New York

2010-02-09T11:15:00.008-05:00

I'm tying to really crack down on this whole 'acting as a career' thing. let me tell you. not coming to me as easy as the whole 'acting' thing. nor am i nearly as passionate about writing cover letters and formatting my resume and interviewing as i am analyzing scripts and developing characters and playing. I would just make movies with my friends for the rest of my life if I thought i could survive on peanut butter and saltines. but we all know how much i like to splurge on things like ramen noodels and chef boyardee. oh, and rent. I'm left with 2 choices. Finding a rich husband, or an agent. Honestly in this city i don't know which is going to be harder. Luckily, there are books about how to find an agent (that i trust way more than that stupid millionaire matchmaker woman who just tells women to straighten their hair and not talk about anything interesting or funny or smart). Last week, I spent a couple of hours at borders doing research, then finally bought a book called "how to act and eat at the same time." it was $20, which wasn't a great start. there goes my weekly budget for food, toilet paper and contact solution. thanks, book. however, it is super informative and well written. and it confirms everything i learned in my theatre auditioning class in college (thank GOD for rob roznowski. my hero and soulmate) which is a really comforting feeling. but there's so much i don't know about the business side of acting in film that makes me want to cry. in fact, i have cried reading that book on the subway. twice. cross my heart and hope to die. despite its overwhelming--ness, i would recommend this book to my fellow actor friends pursuing careers in film/tv/commercials in either NYC or LA. I just recommend reading it half a chapter at a time with a box of tissue and a glass of wine by your side, and a supportive friend on speed dial.

i also recommend to myself finding one story to include in my blog that doesn't contain me crying or having an anxiety attack or being a huge baby. that can't be attractive to potential rich husbands. i'm gonna make that my goal this week; do something fun and/or funny that reminds my loyal readers that i'm fun and funny, again. or... for the first time.

so. acting. career. get on board, friends. its coming in a big way. i would think. at some point.

can i un-fire my manager?
can i find an agent to find me an agent?

I"m gonna try to just remain positive. win over the hearts of producers? i can totally do that. old men love me. impress directors with my fabulous acting abilities? piece of cake. I'm a fabulous actor. Schmooze casting directors. schmooze is my middle name. i can wine/dine/69 with the best of them. not to mention... the jugs. no body in their right mind would turn these away. so i've got that going for me. which is nice.

now i just need to get my foot in the door. turns out, not as simple as it sounds. so i will spend millions of dollars and hours sending my resume and headshot and reel to every agent this side of the hudson. which sounds like zero fun. but i guess it'll be easier than going back to school for... well... i'm not good at anything else. so i guess thats not even an option.

stay motivated
stay focused
stay strong
go the the gym
As your body grows bigger your mind grows flowered it's great to learn cus knowledge is power!

dammit. already failed at the whole focus thing. see! i told you this was hard!

the motivation to be an actor has never faltered or failed. hence my upcoming talent show with actor/roommate jared f. shirkey. motivation also exhibited in my willingness to perform a monologue to anyone with a willingness to stare at me for 2 minutes. seriously, just ask. i will perform any time, anywhere. loves it. its the business part of 'show business' that can suck my balls.

motivational quotes courtesy of Katie DM's facebook page:

"Thankfully, perseverance is a great substitute for talent."
~Steve Martin

"Helen Hunt is consistently uninspiring, so I get great confidence from that."
~Cole Escola

motivational quotes courtesy of my facebook page:

"When you perform you are out of yourself-larger and more potent, more beautiful. You are for minutes heroic. This is power. This is glory on earth. And it is yours nightly."
~Agnes de Mille

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was greater than the risk it took to blossom."
~Anais Nin

and lastly a motivational quote from a painting Emily got me for christmas last year:

“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'”
~Mary Anne Radmacher

I'm not writing these quotes as advice for you or because i think you'll like them, my dedicated blog readers. i'm writing these down (um... typing them out?) because it is your responsibility to remind me of this when you see me crying on the J train.

or, you can find me rich husband. or a corporate sponsor. the choice is yours. 1,2,3... ggggoooooOOOO Bayside!

More fun with Roger D. Wingfield

2010-02-05T16:57:00.001-05:00

Luckily, Roger being my roommate and friend, not only do i get the professional pics posted in my last entry. I'm lucky enough to get these gems as well. As we all know, i pick 'funny' over just about anything else in life.

sometimes i dance during photoshoots. i'm sure most professional models do.

My face is almost permanently like this in my apartment.

probably my favorite picture ever taken of me.

hi!

ok, i make this face a lot at home too.

and probably this one

from the desk of Roger D. Wingfield.

2010-02-05T16:04:00.006-05:00

i decided that until i decide if i'm gonna start a 'professional' blog, i'm gonna post profession info on here.

Here' some pics from an impromptu photoshoot with Roger Wingfield. I hope you likey.

Casey: Sorry, my eyes are a little watery. these lights are SO bright.
Roger: Casey, we all know you're crying because Beyonce's on. There's no need to lie about that around us.

I got my feet on the ground and i don't go to sleep to dream...

2010-02-03T10:46:00.014-05:00

nothing about that title is true. clearly, i don't have my feet on the ground, and apparently dreaming is all i do when i spend 8 hours on my mattress every night.

Transition into dream sequence. cue fanciful music and a hazy fog that enters the scene.

It started out with me in a kindergarten class, as a student. Apparently I failed kindergarten on a technicality and therefore every other grade i had passed, graduated from, every diploma i've received, etc etc, was null and void. I needed to retake kindergarten. which i was more than happy to do. "Retake Kindergarten? Oh sure! that seems reasonable and fair." And it wasn't like Billy Madison where it was hard for me in any way, shape or form (although i think my teacher may have been miss lippy). Everyday, I went to kindergarten just like the rest of the kids in my class. Until one day, the teacher asked if I had my parents sign my progress report
"Oh, I'm really sorry! I just keep forgetting" i said
"well, Casey. its really important that we know that your parents know how well you're doing." said the teacher.
"Yeah. but i am doing well. i didn't FAIL this class in the first place. so does it really matter?" i said.
"Yes Casey. this is part of the class." she said
"Can i just sign it myself? I'm 25." i said
"No. it needs to be your parents." she said.
"I don't live with my parents. I'm my own legal guardian. i think i should be able to sign it by myself." i said.
"No, Casey. You need to have your parents sign the paper. you're the only one in the class who hasn't gotten it signed yet." she said.
then, dream Casey was really hurt, or embarrassed, and got really defensive and finally broke down and tried leveling with the teacher adult to adult. i said "listen, these kids have it way easier. they live with their parents. their parents probably open their backpacks everyday to see whats in it to talk to their kids about what they did that day at school, like good parents are supposed to do with small children, and sign it and put it back in their backpack without the kids even remembering to ask them to sign it in the first place. I don't have that luxury. I barely even remember to open my backpack when i get home because i NEVER have homework. So i would have to remember about the slip on my own, and somehow, like, FAX it to my parents to have them sign it and have them FAX it to me or the school or whatever. ok? its harder for me. I'm old enough to have a kid in kindergarten, or teach kindergarten. i have a bachelors degree in interdisciplinary arts and humanities from Michigan State University, where i was consistently on the Dean's list. I've been my own legal guardian for 7 years. i should just sign it myself."

good argument, dream casey. only because you didn't graduate from kindergarten when you were 6, you don't really have that bachelors degree, which was the problem in the first place. you did attended classes at MSU for 4 years and get good grades. props to you.

so, then i was in the airport food court, which was apparently the cafeteria for my kindergarten class, looking for a bathroom. Every stall i went into was filthy. Like, over flowing with poo. And i was about 6 months pregnant at this point in the dream. don't worry, it made sense to suddenly be 6 months pregnant. Then i ran into this really cute boy with curly blond hair who worked at the airport as one of those guys directing planes on the ground with all the hand movements and the orange sticks and the headphone things. I was too embarrassed to tell him that i was in kindergarten, so i told him i worked at the sbarro in the food court. (awake Casey thinks this might be more embarrassing). He then told me there was a bathroom at a park down the street. and he walks me to it. We're instantly, madly in love. he keeps me asking me about the baby's daddy. Sadly enough, he's not in the picture. But cute blond airport boy loves me, and will help me in any way he can. a true gentlemen. as we walk to the park, we decide we hate our jobs at the airport and we're gonna run away together. its a beautiful moment. then, i go into the bathroom. but again, poo everywhere. until i find one clean stall but it doesn't have a toilet, but rather a bidet. I decide to squat over it and go number one out my pee-hole (classy lady even in my dreams). as i lift up my dress, a jacket and a blanket falls out revealing to me, and cute blond airport boy who walks in on me squating over the bidet that i'm NOT PREGNANT. I do the right thing and come clean, telling him i didnt' work at sbarro's, but was actually a kindergarten student, and i (apparently) wasn't really pregnant (in my defense i wasn't intentionally lying about that). he's, of course, super understanding (as he's the love of my life) but tells me that he really liked the idea of running away together and starting a family. BAM. deus ex machina. Dream Casey is really 6 months pregnant. We go look at mobile homes next to the park for $1,500 because thats the amount of money that the two of us have together. Turns out you can't get a very nice mobile home for that amount of money. As i'm looking at all theses shitty mobile homes, and pop-up trailers, dream casey is contemplating if this is what she really wants. was she ready to give up her career (as a kindergarten student?). Dream Casey decides even though i hate all of the pop-up trailers we've can afford, and we have no income, and am not sure if i'm really ready to have a baby, that i should see how things play out, because cute blond airport guy is all about this kid. And maybe its a fair trade off to raise a kid in a home where his parents really love each other and did everything they could for the baby even if he's raised dirt poor in a shitty mobile home. then i woke up.

get the fog and music out of your head.

hmmm.... wonder what that could mean in real life. there's a lot of shit going on in that one rather lengthy dream sequence. who knew my subconscious was that-- introspective-- even without a kindergarten education. One thing's for sure. i now know why i never feel rested when i wake up in the morning.

(on a weird personal sad note... usually when i wake up from a dream about being preggo, i am all freaked out about the possibility of being preggo. even when i was 14 and there was absolutely NO way of me actually being preggo. i woke up from this dream a little freaked out that i wasn't preggo. because i'm not. and i'm positive that i'm not. if you wanna know why i'm SO sure that i'm not, ask carrie. she knows the all the dets of unfertilized uterus. but... what if i never get pregnant? what if i'm never in the position to make that decision that i've spent so much time worrying about where i have to decide between an acting career and having a family-- because i'm never a successful actor and i never fall in love?!?!? OH. MY. GOD. sorry. i just passed out from lack of oxygen to my brain. ok. enough weird personal sadness. i'm gonna stay positive. i'm too young to worry about any of that. plus... like its hard to get knocked up. again, just ask Carrie. not because she's pregnant, because neither of us are. as much as roger would like to think that both of us are. always.)

Now. I must give credit where credit is due. Emily is the one who came up with the phrase "number one out my pee-hole." one time she said she had to pee, and my dad got angry and said to my mom "i don't understand why all of our kids talk like sailors." Em said "sorry. i have to go number one out my pee-hole." gotta love her. and my dad for not shooting one of us in our youth.

Has the city been abnormally quiet, or are the voices in my head getting louder?

2010-02-03T10:43:00.001-05:00

Things i like. Team work with a revolving door. You're coming in? i'm going out! lets make eye contact and figure out a entry time and tempo that works for both of us. thank you, sir. You make the rocking world go round.

things i don't like. people who for whatever reason stand in front of a revolving door. I'm going to NEED to stand right there in about 0.5 seconds.

things i don't understand. Why do all of the Hasidic Jewish women in the city have the SAME stroller? There's a lot of things I don't understand about Hasidic Jewish culture. I'm completely infatuated with the questions i have to the point where i'm not sure i even want answers. I just like pondering.

things that gross me out: the idea of kids losing teeth. i know every does it. i did it at one point myself. That doesn't make it ok. have you ever really thought about it??? its really gross. they're bones. i think. they should be secured in your mouth. i understand the difference between baby teeth and grown up teeth. but seriously, evolution, get on it. there's got to be a more effective way of dealing with that. i don't have to do that with any other body part. I'm afraid if i ever have kids and they come to me with a loose tooth, i won't be able to keep my cool. "Yes, Bobby. i know you think its super sweet and you want to play with it with your tongue just like every other 6-year-old on the planet, but you need to know how harshly i am judging you right now. Make mommy proud and shut your mouth before i throw up. I'll call your dad and see if he can leave work early to help you out cus i don't want to talk about it anymore. OH, except this one quick point. there's no such thing as the tooth fairy. You can just throw that shit away when it falls out. I'll happily pay you $20 to not have to pick up your defunct body parts. I'd rather not have you sleeping with it under your pillow that close to your face tonight even though it was in your mouth 5 minutes prior. I don't know why, Bobby, its just different. and you're gross." (reason #347 why maybe i should never have kids. or need to marry a man who will be an amazing dad. but probably just shouldn't have kids)

those are the things i'm thinking about this morning. that, and how much i'd like another cup of coffee. I'm also wondering why my boss wants me here at 10am when he doesn't come in til 12:30. more time to blogggg!

My baby takes the morning TRAIN.

2010-02-01T19:56:00.007-05:00

Part 2 of funny things that happen on the train is about to commence. i hope you are ready.

Well, first, last week i saw a man drinking rice waiting for the j train. like... drinking it. that's not funny at all. i was pretty horrified.

A couple weeks ago I had a rather frustrating trip home due to construction and weekend changes i had forgotten about. i ended up taking the brooklyn bound j train from E.Broadway to Jay street transferring to the A to broadway junction and transferring to the J train which takes me to my apartment. Also, I didn't have my ipod, and we all know how anxious i get on 1 hour train rides that should take 20 minutes without a little muzak to settle my nerves. Yes, it was probably easier to walk the 8 blocks from Drew's apartment to the J train. but i was wearing heals. and... then i would have never met the wonderful woman who was singing a song (that i'm assuming she wrote) that goes a little something like this: cus i gots to pop it. cus i gots to drop it. drop it. drop it. drop it.
I forgot how it actually went. but i know the drop it part was in there multiple times. and i know it wasn't "my lipstick is poppin" or "pop lock and drop it" or "drop it like its hot" or any of the songs that exist outside that woman's head. I tried my hardest to watch the dance that inevitably accompanied this song, but there was some asshole blocking my vision. This woman got off at Jay street as well and started saying "quarter-quarter-quarter-quarter." I looked and she had this huge tangled mess of brown strings. Ok. it is totally worth a quarter to buy whatever it is that she's selling. I gave her a dollar. she did not give me change (rude). I was gonna offer for her to keep the $.75 anyway, but still. Turns out it wasn't the whole clump of strings she was selling, but just one... very simply braided into a bracelet.

Best dollar i've spent in a while. and luckily i didn't get her song stuck in my head for very long (unfortunately not long enough to still remember it, but also not long enough to annoy the shit out of me and possibly ruin my day. a fine line). it somehow morphed into Beyonce's "Diva" relatively quickly.

It reminded me of one of my top two favorite train moments ever occuring about a year and a half ago. It was fall, and there was this group of 17 year old kids talking about funny things that happened in their church choir rehearsal that day. for no reason whatsoever it really pissed me off. I'm generally a supporter of teens engaging in positive after school activities. then they started actually singing. They were actually pretty good. still. ugh. Every stop of the local 'A' train was an internal battle of trying to decide if i should jump to the next car and try to struggle to find a seat on a crowded train, or stay seated after a long day of work and attempt to put up with the gay youth. I mean happy. Luckily, i stayed. because guess what happened next. a homeless woman began singing along. now she was rocking the lead to whatever gospel song they were singing at the moment and DANCING while the kids were supplying some good A Capella backup vox and a steady beat. This brought quite the smile to my face. She then informs us that she writes her own music, and starts singing the tune of jingle bells, but lyrics about being in a woman's shelter and regaining ownership of her life. only, of course the lyrics didn't make sense. and unfortunately it was pretty evident she did not have much control of her life. i would pay any amount of money to have had a way to record that. then there's a dance break. I'm gonna do my best to describe this, so bear with me. and maybe after this story you'll be motivated to bare with me (a little joke for you English majors out there). The lady gets down on the ground. of the subway. in the 'push up' position and starts basically humping the ground, but in a circular motion. first clock wise, then counter (a la Alex Sedrowski doing the Backstreet Boys dance for those lucky enough to have witnessed that). This is the best subway ride of my life at that point. But don't worry, it gets better. A homeless man comes over and tells her that she doesn't know what she's doing and that he can do better. He says he won't do it for free, but after enough coaxing, he sure as hell does. A homeless dance off on the subway. right in front of my seat. I am audibly laughing. i cannot contain my joy. Then they start singing again. The man is doing his best to sing along to Jingle Bells. only he doesn't speak English. So he's making up words not even i can make out even though he's standing directly above me, holding on to the pole above my head. What i do know is that there are parts of that song that he is singing directly to me, and without a second thought i join right in for the audience participation parts. he says laughing all the way (or something close to that) and i say "HA HA HA" he says oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh and i yell "HEY!" Who knew the Holiday spirit could completely sweep over an entire 4 benches of a subway car in the middle of October. I heart New York.

I guess what the moral of the story is that even on the worst rides, open your G.D. eyes because something amazing could happen at any moment. You, too, could be the proud owner of a $.25 bracelet possibly made out of some homeless lady's weave or find yourself in a sing-a-long/dance-off with 2 homeless people on a breezy Autumn New York day.

What if i kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall?

2010-01-28T20:34:00.009-05:00

Do you ever have one of those really sappy days where every song on the radio seems to be singing straight to your heart? that's me everyday. i've always been a big fan of good music and good lyrics as a way to cope with real life. Lately however, my office has been listening to a lite rock station-- that's right, not even LIGHT rock, but lite. and you all know what i'm talking about. its been bad. real bad. plus its probably 'that time of the month' but who's counting.

i've been a roller coaster of emotions as all of these songs seem to have some kind of personal connection to my life.

"don't want to be all by myself..." no. as a matter of fact celine, i don't.

"HOW DO I GET YOU ALONE?" Heart, I don't know either. but if i find out, i'll tell you and vice versa.

"Well you're a real tough cookie with a long history. of breaking little hearts like the one in me." so fuck you. *note to self. try to learn this song for karaoke. (this note is actually written on a prescription pad on my desk)

"Cus when you're fifteen and someone tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them." Taylor. how do i tell you that the next 10 years aren't gonna get any easier.

"He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich." Ok. this one i don't really understand let alone relate to, but i sure do like it. and every time i hear it i hope the next song played is "she don't eat meat but she sure likes the bone." it very rarely is.

Its gotten so bad that there have been times that i've thought "that would be the PERFECT song to sing to 'him' and win him over!!! I'll just learn it on the piano, its right in my range blah blah blah..." Ok. Now, i'm not really sure what my problem is when it comes to making boys date me, but i'm pretty sure its not a lack of making them listen to me play Alicia Keys or Mariah Carey on my keyboard as they sit on my bed and listen. And i'm pretty sure my biggest problem when it comes to my current romantic relationships (or lack there of) is getting boys to my bed in the first place. *Note to self, if a boy is interested in you, don't fuck it up with REO Speedwagon. will somebody text me that tomorrow? I'm away from my desk.

this is all sappy, emotional bull shit that is hopefully at least somewhat amusing, possibly even a little relatable. I hope you're laughing at me a little. the next part may not be funny. I know its not to me. All this stupid sappy romance shit has me in a funk. again. still?... off and on for the past 25 years. This next part is probably a little too sappy for even me to share on my blog. but i've had a couple beers and i've been thinking about it all day (see! more lyric association Sara Bareillis "One too many drinks tonight and i miss you like you were mine). Plus its my blog, i can write whatever i want. if you don't like it you can stop following.

don't stop following i love every single one of you. If you wanna come over some time i have some peter cetara songs i want to play for you on my keyboard.

(maybe... maybe... i'll post song lyrics of actual good songs that i like, too. I think i have good taste in music, as i'm sure most people do, but for real, i think i do. not that men at work isn't a noteworthy, reputable musical group.)

Serious. Do you know what song repeatedly breaks my heart? and gives me hope all at the same time? its been my number one favorite song for about 10 years now. ok enough with the clues, i'm sick of this game. i'm just gonna tell you. 'Anna Begins' by the Counting Crows. Fucking love that song. I think it is the most honest view on falling in love ever. cus its not all pots of gold at the end of the rainbow and unicorns and female orgasms and other mythological ideals. it sucks sometimes. and its scary as hell. This is possibly the only piece of evidence that makes me believe that men fall in love. Like, really FALL IN LOVE the way a young girl always dreams of. This and probably my sister's husband Adam. he seems pretty wonderful. (ok and a few conversations lately with Drew and Chris... but very recently. for 9 of the past 10 years this was all i had). Let's take a look at some of the lyrics. in no particular order. but mostly the order they appear in the song.

"If it's love," she said, "then we're gonna have to think about the consequences." But she can't stop shaking and I can't stop touching her
everyone has had that dreaded/desired moment.
every hates/loves it.

It does not bother me to say this isn't love.
Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love.
And I guess I'm gonna have to live with that.
But I'm sure there's something in a shade of grey,
Or something in between
I think that is true.

It seems like I should say, "As long as this is love..."
But it's not all that easy
No, Adam Duritz. No it is not. there's a fuckload to think about.

This time when kindness falls like rain
It washes me away. And Anna begins to change my mind.
it'll happen to the best of us.

She's talking in her sleep.
It's keeping me awake. And Anna begins to toss and turn.
And every word is nonsense but I understand
ugh. yeah. so romantic in an honest way. (i don't even know what that means but i'm standing by it).

Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing.
I KNOW, RIGHT!?!?! Fuck That Shit I Don't Need I t/Its All I Ever Really Want In Life. What i like about his use of this lyric (its repeated for those of you who don't know the song) is sometimes it sounds like he's talking about being scared about being in love with her, but at the end it sounds like he's scared of losing her. ugh. beautiful.

If you don't know this song, download it. now. i'll give you the $.99.

My second favorite song is "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure. You can download that one on your own dime.

Alright. I'm done being sappy. My next entry will be much more cheerful i promise (i have some good stories about some rando's on the train). Right now i need to retire to my bedroom. I've got some Whitney Houston and Ryan Adams jams that could use a little work.

Is it just me or does my bed room smell like animal carcus?

2010-01-19T01:38:00.003-05:00

I don't know if i'm just being paranoid. but i think it does. on Friday, while getting ready for work, i found a dead mouse on my floor. In my head, the mouse was never in our apartment until its last moments on earth when it decided to come inside and curl up next to my slipper for a comfortable transition into mouse heaven. Who can blame it? as much as i would prefer to not have a dead mouse in my room, the humanitarian in me is willing to honor its last wishes.

the boys, on the other hand, are pretty sure stella killed it and brought it into my room as a gift. i am completely aware that this is a natural, normal thing for cats to do, and have been nervous about the idea of this happening since i brought her into this apartment (we had a pretty severe problem with the mice last winter). I've even called my dad to ask what to do if she brings me a dead mouse. "i don't know Case, you'll probably have to clean it up, or get one of your roommates to help you." I guess that's a pretty reasonable answer. I do want to say if this is true, if she did kill a mouse as a gift for me, i'm at least glad she put it on my floor and not in my bed. i don't know if i would have been able to recover from that. I would also like to say to stella... i prefer chocolate and jewelry. but i guess its the thought that counts.

Anyway... i found this mouse, and i was so scared and freaked out about what to do that i literally just stared at it for a good 7 minutes, making me late to work. I knew i couldn't pick it up myself, but i also knew i was too nice of a roommate to wake the boys up at 8:30 to pick up a dead mouse. BUT i didn't want stella to find it (still under the assumption that it died of natural causes). Hence the 7 minute freak out... thats a lot to think about. I ended up just puttin my slipper over the mouse and sending the boys a text informing them that if they took care of this mouse before i got home from work i would do anything for them. I meant it. i can't think of a single thing i wouldn't in order to NOT pick up a dead mouse. yes... even that.

I got home from work, quickly got changed for an evening out. then hyperventilated for a quick second when i remembered about the mouse... but it wasn't there. thank god. I went into the kitchen, and Roger even double checked with me, "Did someone take care of that mouse for you?" "YES. thank god. i'm just a little nervous about what i'm gonna have to do in return."

HOWEVER. the next day, there was a sudden twist of fate. Jared Matt and I were setting up to paint, and Jared said "hey did you clean that mouse out of your room?" I said "no i thought you did" he informed me that he had not. He couldn't find it. Matt told me he had checked my room when he got home and there wasn't a mouse so he assumed someone else took care of it. I thought jared was just trying to fuck with me. But after enough "don't fuck with me jared, for real. i might cry"s he eventually convinced me that he in fact looked under the green slipper, looked around my room, couldn't find any dead animals. so this means no one picked it up. The only conclusion was that stella ate it. my world pretty much crumbled at this thought. I hate mice. i love stella. how was i supposed to still cuddle with her if i knew she ate one? i reverted into a five year old asking a million questions trying my best to wrap my head around just HOW this could happen. Luckily, the boys were there to help me out.

"did she eat the bones?" yes. Jared told me that she would eventually cough up the bones and fur in a little pellet like an owl. and that it would probably in my bed. i'm gonna assume this isn't true. sometimes its really hard to tell with him. For the record, he didn't have to fuck with me at all. i was verge of tears this entire time. and i stood motionless in the living room with my shoulders to my ears and my arms wrapped around my stomach for the entire conversation.

"is she gonna get sick? if it just died naturally it was probably toxic" Apparently cats have an amazing immune system and she'll be fine. plus she probably killed it in the first place.

"no, i dont think she did. it wasn't bloody at all" apparently, yes, she killed it, then licked its wounds to clean it. is that true? i still don't know. seems more probable then owl pellets. but its so gross.

"what if she tries to lick my face?" I was reminded that she also licks her own asshole, so i shouldn't have a problem with a little mouse blood. and again with the immune system, her mouth is cleaner than my mouth, multiple inappropriate jokes about where my mouth had been, etc etc.

"What if she gets mouse aids. there's already a chance she has feline aids from her promiscuous alley cat days this summer." they informed me that there's no such thing as mouse aids. admittedly, i knew that. but still. the question needed to be asked.

"most importantly, do you think there's more mice?" I've learned that there's a pretty good chance of this. We do live on the first floor in an older building in brooklyn. and we had mice last year around this time. I was really hoping that stella's presence in the apartment alone would be enough to keep the mice away. I thought it was working. I haven't seen or heard a single mouse thus far. We also sealed the hole under my heating vent that we think they were getting through and still have mouse traps in prime mouse spots in the apt. And we have an exterminator come to our apt once a month... but he was pretty much useless last year.

"but... i don't want her to have eaten a mouse." the boys apologized, but there was really nothing we could do about that at this point. not a very satisfying answer.

"Am i a bad mom for not taking care of it that morning? what do i even do if i find a mouse in the future so she doesn't eat it? i don't think i would even know where to start. do i use a paper towel? where do i put it? it seems too big to flush, do i just throw it away? what is it going to feel like in my hand? can you feel its bones and stuff?" I can use a plastic bag to pick it up. i throw it in the trash. it will feel gross. its more squishy and gooey than bony, depending on how long its been dead. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

I was constantly reminded to settle down because it was a part of nature. but i don't care. its gross. I was also reminded that it wasn't a big deal and that everything was going to be fine. but i wasn't so sure of that.

Anyway, the 'good' news is that stella did not eat the mouse. she buried it in a pile of laundry on my floor. i found it today...monday...3 days after the initial mouse siting... cleaning my room. Luckily, Matt was home and could help me out... but was on the phone so i had to hyperventilate in the living room for about 5 minutes til he was done. Matt, wandering around the living room when he was done on the phone, asked "Wait... what was i doing?" Mouse. are you kidding? how could you forget. mouse. there's a dead mouse on my floor. its a big deal. "where is it?" On my floor right next to my bed... when you walk in its on the right kinda by my book shelf in the middle of the floor. you'll see it. its a dead mouse. "... are you not going in your room until its gone?" absolutely not. "is that why you've been sitting awkwardly on the couch staring at me for ten minutes?" that is correct.

He took care of it. i closed my eyes as he walked into the living room with the bag... i don't know why, i had already seen the mouse multiple times, its not like seeing the plastic bag it was in would have been any worse.

Now i know i will never be able to live alone. yes, i did live alone my senior of college, but that was before i knew just how terrified of mice i am... no that's not true... i've always known. My boyfriend at the time had a mouse in his apartment that year. one time i was over there and he ran his hand up my arm and i started crying. real tears. "Casey! we just saw the mouse run into the bathroom. how could you possibly think that was real?" "I just really don't like mice." that's not an answer, for the record. but again... i'm 5. From then on I made him check the bedroom and shove towels under the crack of his door before i slept over.

Seriously. i don't know what i would do without my roommates. picking up dead animals, putting up with me crying and asking way too many questions about the circle of life. Props to you, boys.

now i'm sitting in my bedroom convinced that my room still smells like dead animal. i cleaned. and fabreezed. i'm probably, hopefully just paranoid. is it asking too much to wake the boys up at 3am to come smell my room? yes. i'm fine. just paranoid. right? and whatever it is that i keep seeing out of the corner of my eye that looks like its running across my room, but disappears when i turn my head... thats probably my imagination. as is whatever i keep feeling running up my leg.

well... real live mouse or not... i work in the morning and need to find a way to get some sleep. writing about mice is not gonna help.

stella just jumped on my lap. she better keep her filthy mouse paws away from my face tonight. thats all i'm sayin.

Emily Part duex

2010-01-17T21:55:00.000-05:00

I know... part 2 SO soon after part one?!?! but I thought since kelly kind of spoiled the next TWO stories on my "emily" list... i may as well just pound those out right now.

But first of all, an addition to this segment. Emily invented a game called "subtle ugly" where you take pictures of yourself being... well... subtly ugly. A great game to play with family and friends. Especially when the family and friends are too polite to call you out on fucking up their pictures on purpose. She also loves to take pictures on my camera that aren't so subtle. I will start every Segment of my Emily stories with one of these pictures.

From HI emily!

Emily, who is notably NOT following my blog even though I've told her about it multiple times, was once taking a summer class at I think Oakland Community College or Oakland University. It was a relatively small class, and on the first day, the professor was doing the cheesy 'get to know your classmates' games college professors should really never do. One of the questions asked was "Is anyone here not from Michigan?" Emily raised her hand. When asked where she was from, she said "The United States of America." for absolutely no reason. She did live in Michigan, and although she was born in Wisconsin has never been one of those "oh.. i'm not FROM michigan" people. She just got confused by the question.

During a sign language class, everyone had to sign their name in front of the class on the first day. She signed her name as Emma. She came home and was kinda laughing as she told me that. I asked her why she would do that and tried to tell her that Emma wasn't really a nick name for Emily... its a completely different name. She said that she knew that, but wanted to go by Emma for a while. what?

Speaking of Emily not knowing her name... Once as we were driving through Colorado, i want to say possibly up Pike's Peak, the air was getting a little thin, we were all feeling a little loopy, and Emily said "Wow, i'm like Amelia Delirious up here" we asked who Amelia Delirious was, and she said it was her. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about naming your delirious alter ego, but I'm not sure if she knows her name is EMILY.

**side note** My alter ego is called Sunglasses Casey. Basically i have a couple drinks, i put on my sunglasses and i think i'm invincible and hilarious. A risky combination. She actually hasn't been around too much lately. i might have to invite her out sometime soon.

Back to Emily and the Rocky Mountains. Our older sister Kelly lived in Denver, and Em and I of course visited her as often as possible because Denver is amazing. on one of our first trips, kelly being the amazing host that she is took us EVERYWHERE. We camped in Crested Butte (aka crusty butt), drove through Vail even though none of us ski, went to Red Rocks Amphitheater, Garden of the Gods, the Continental divide, we even saw a Rockies game. Emily, on one of our last days there, informed us that everything we had done that week had been a lot of fun and was really pretty, but wanted to know when we were gonna go see the Rocky Mountains. we asked her what she meant. She said "well, as long as we're all the way out in Colorado, I'd like to see the Rocky Mountains." We informed her that we had been in the Rocky Mountains for the entire visit. This is it... look around you, sweetheart. "OH! its like... all of these mountains?" did she think it was just one? had she never seen a map of the United States? "Yes. Why do you think we've been listening to 'Rocky Mountian High' everytime we get in the car?" to which she replied "ah... thats what he's saying. i thought it was 'Like a Mountain High.'"

Also on that trip, one of my all time favorite Emily moments occurred. We were in Kelly's car. I was sitting shot gun. 17 year old Emily in the back seat says "Guys... do ever think about elephants and just (voice cracks a little) get (voice quivering even more) so sad?!?" I look back and Emily is balling. She never really explained why elephants make her sad. Andy got her a black and white picture for Christmas of an elephant sitting down and a little kid sitting next to it with his arm around the elephant. Emily had to excuse herself from the room, which she later told us was because she was crying.

I would pay anything to have any of these things on tape so you could see how just how innocent and earnest she is in these moments. I feel like in writing she may just come off as a dumb blond, but i can't stress enough that she is not. I would settle a picture of my face as these moments occur. I'm sure its priceless.

Alright.. that's enough for one night. don't want to give too much away at once... gots to keep you hungry for more :)

New Headshots

2010-01-17T21:26:00.000-05:00

Photographer Roger Wingfield

OK... everyone vote!
(note: these have not been photoshopped at all, so disregard the zit between my eyebrows and the fact that in the blue turtleneck it looks like my head is floating. those things will be fixed).

do you brush your teeth before you kiss

2010-01-17T16:09:00.000-05:00

I chipped my tooth this weekend drinking a bottle of bud light. just trying to keep it classy. now i have to go to the dentist. which i hate. i wish i could go drunk, but multiple people have told me that's not allowed. shit.

Not only does the dentist specifically make me VERY anxious, but in general i don't like going to any doctor's office alone. I become a clingy little baby when i have to go to the doctor. Even in college i made a friend go with me to every doctor's appointment i had. I even had bridget come with me to the gyno once (I made her wait in the waiting room... i'm not a total freak). thanks for that bridge. Sharriese has taken me to the urgent care center on 2 separate occasions. Ashley and Jen took me to the ER once... which wasn't so much me being a baby, but me being physically unable to walk down the stairs because i was so dehydrated from the flu. Jen also watched the laser surgery i had on my foot. Jimmy dealt with me being a whiny little baby in the waiting room, and during the examination, and during the X-rays for what turned out to be a bruised rib (a classical acting injury). Wow. i guess i'm kind of a high maintenance friend. Thanks to everyone for putting up with me. I suppose now that i'm 25 and i live in a city with public transportation up the wazoo, and am not SICK, it would be silly to ask someone to go sit at the dentist while i get my tooth fixed. but if someone would just so happen to offer.....

Yesterday we spent the entire day (well... starting at 4pm) painting our apartment. it looks soooooo good. even with our furniture in the middle of our floor and painting supplies all over the place, it somehow looked cleaner. also, clearly, the four of us staying up til god knows when to paint was a blast. Especially when jared and i got a little high from the chalkboard spray paint fumes. those boys never cease to surprise me. and they always know how to make me laugh. I'm so lucky to have them :). By the way... BIG things are in the works for the new and improved 86.3 The Groove. The apartment renovation is the first of many exciting things for the next few months. you should all be very excited.

I just googled "how to clean a hardwood floor" and the article i clicked on had this picture...

Call me crazy, but if i were going to be writing an article about hardwood floors, and were going to make an effort to post a picture, i might take that extra step and find a picture of a hardwood floor.

Our cable is out. I wanted to watch the Jets game (a little) and the Golden Globes (a lot). I'll probably write a few more blog posts tonight because i have nothing else today. well... i could clean my room. but that doesn't sound like fun. Will you judge me if i write multiple blog entries in one day? Should i be spending my weekends doing something other than blogging all day? I should actually be working on my screen play. I think writing this blog has actually made me a less productive writer. Now i just think of funny little short stories and may never be able to write a feature length film ever again. plus my screenplay is a drama about a doomed relationship, and i'm just not in the mood to think about that for more than 5 minutes at a time. I guess i should also be working on the LISTS of short films in have ideas for but nothing written yet... but i'll probably just write my blog.

Tim, this blog post title reminds me of your segment "do you ever feel self conscious eating a banana." Remember when i thought the picture you use for that was me? and was so confused as to how you had it? I'm so smart. Its actually a Damien Rice lyric. props to him.

whats my age again

2010-01-15T18:11:00.002-05:00

apparently i'm not the only one who seems to be caught in this weird middle ground of going back and forth between feeling too old and too young. Society in general can't seem to grasp my age.

I'm 25. but i understand i look like a 12 year old boy. however, i'm relatively mature and well spoken in a lot of ways. and i have a pseudo real job. i drink a lot of coffee and vodka, but would be just as excited about an orange soda as i would a martini. My two favorite foods are Filet Mignon and hot dogs with cheese in the middle. i get it. i'm sending a lot of mixed signals into the universe.

last week i walked into my midtown Manhattan office building, greeted our maintenance guy/super/landlord?/sometimes doorman, Oscar, as I do every morning. As i walked to hit the elevator button, Oscar said "I'm going up. Would you like me to take you up in the maintenance elevator?!?" as if i was 8 years old and this would be new and exciting and fun. it is only about 2 feet closer than the real elevator, and not at all faster-- so there's no real practical reason why i would want to ride in it ever. but... of course i said yes. because he was right. i'm an 8 year old child and the maintenance elevator was new and exciting and fun.

i accidentally typed 'envelop' instead of 'elevator' when writing that story. weird.

Also last week, a 57-year-old patient was waiting for his appointment, and i was chatting with him a bit as do with all of our patients. or at least most. This particular 57-year-old is one of my favorites because he's so soft spoken and considerate and he's very dad-ish. not like my father in particular, but dad-ish in general. He casually asked me if i was going to any of the XXXXXXXXX shows this weekend (the name has been omitted to save me a little bit of pride. trying to hold on dearly to all that's left of it. it was a pop band. lets leave it at that). I said "i don't even know what that means." he said "XXXXXXXX. they're playing at webster hall. i'm trying to get tickets on craigslist." webster hall. he must be talking about a band and not a play or a movie. i can continue the conversation with a little bit of grace. context clues. thanks 9th grade English! also, assuming since he's 57, me not going to the same concert as him probably isn't that big of a shocker. "i've never even heard of them." brace yourselves, folks. this is about to sting. the 57-year-old patient looks at me and says, "Oh... well... I guess you've probably been out of college for too long." excuse me!?!?! i've been out of school for 2 (quickly coming up on 3) years and i know less about pop music than my 57-year-old dad of a patient. shit.fuck.damn.balls. He then said "if you have some headphones i have their album on my blackberry if you'd like to listen to it. i think you'd like them." yes. i did have headphones. yes. i did like them. and actually i had heard of the some of their songs, just didn't know the name of the band. i don't know if that's better or worse. gross.

this has nothing to do with my age, but probably more my IQ. Classy moment of the weekend. I got all dressed up on saturday to see a play with jared (we ended up playing catch phrase instead...). I was making ramen noodes for dinner, so classy points start adding up already, and when i went to get it out of the microwave, the bowl was SUPER hot. I couldn't find a kitchen towel, and we are out of paper towel, so naturally, i use my skirt to pick up the bowl. Don't worry, i'm wearing leggings. i'm a fool, but not a slut. As i'm carrying it to the counter, i start YELLING cus its soooo hot and burning my hand thru my thin little skirt and say "OH SHIT i'm gonna drop it i'm gonna drop it i'm gonna drop it.." and as i put it on the counter i tip the bowl back toward my body and pour soup all over my dress. Roger and Jared gave me the ever so familiar "this is why we can't have nice things" look. Potholders. Potholders was the right answer.

alright. 7pm. time for me to get out of this 'ell 'ole.

fake crush

2010-01-15T16:28:00.000-05:00

I try to have as many fake crushes as possible. it makes my day so much more fun. My current fake crush is a guy at the bank. I'm at the bank at least 3 times a week for work. pretty much everyone there recognizes me and smiles or whatever. its actually becoming kind of annoying. who would of have thought they would ever hear me saying that after only living in NYC for a year and a half, being a total midwest gal and not even (that) famous yet?

anyway. things you need to know about the chase bank on 48th and Madison. 1. it is under construction. 2. they are obsessed with trying to get people to sit down at a desk with an actual banker even though i'm just making a deposit for my boss. they then try to review my personal chase account to try to enroll me in whatever program they have at the time. i don't make a lot of money. and i've already been up-sold on anything i could possibly need from chase bank. unless one of them is able to completely erase my credit card debt or some how put lots of money in my checking account for no good reason. 3. it looks like the united nations every time i go in there. there is seriously an employee of every background imaginable. this actually has nothing to do with the story, but i find it interesting.

So one of the guys who works there is really really hot. Ok well he's not that hot. if i met him at a bar i probably wouldn't even be interested. but that's why he's my fake crush. he's attractive enough to make going to the bank a little more enjoyable. So FINALLY after months of smiling at him at the bank as i walk thru, he's standing at the front and asks if he can help me. YAY. So we walk back to his desk, and as I sit down in the chair i TRIP and fall. Luckily i caught myself before i face-planted on his desk, but it was noticeable enough for him and the banker dude walking by to ask me if i was ok. The non-cute guy said "they're new chairs and they kind of stick out a little at the bottom sorry about that" which is true. and should be illegal. chair legs should be at a 90* angle. especially if i'm wearing heels. so i said lightheartedly "oh good, so i'll get to do that every time i come in!" then fake bank crush guy said "yeah with all the construction, you never really know what to expect. the floors are all uneven, people are falling all over the place" i appreciated him trying to comfort me. but we all knew me tripping on a chair leg had nothing to do with the construction. embarrassing.

so... that's pretty much it for my bank crush. i mean i still smile at him, because i'm a polite young lady from the midwest, but i can no longer give him the extra special smile he had been receiving for the first 7 months of my time as a regular at Chase bank. boo.

sorry for SO much exposition that wasn't really vital for what should have been a relatively short, simple story. i'm bored at work. and by bored i mean there's a shit ton for me to do, but its friday at 5:32 and i don't really want to do any of it. Thanks for listening y'all.

Why I love Emily

2010-01-12T12:19:00.000-05:00

My little sister, Emily, is one of my favorite people for oh so many reasons. That’s why I'm going to start a new segment of my blog called "why i love emily"

Today’s story is called "America." This story takes place in our parent’s lovely home in Lake Orion, Michigan. Emily, approximately 20, and myself age 21 or 22 are both visiting on a random weekend home from college (Emily was an honor roll student at the University of Michigan). We shared a conversation which is as follows:

E: Case, I don't understand how South America is AMERICA.

C: What do you mean?

E: I mean, it’s not really America.

C: Well, it’s not the country of The United States of America. It’s the Continent of South America.

E: No, I know it’s a continent. [yet is somehow still unsatisfied and confused. And a little peeved as if I had insulted her intelligence]

C: Like how Mexico is part of North America the Continent, but not part of the United States of America the country. [Still really nothing from Emily] our country is also called "America" but it’s the United States OF America. It’s not THE America.

E: But do they say "God Bless America." [note. period. not even question mark.]

C: [Laughing] Umm... I would assume not. But I don't think they say that in Mexico either.

E: Yeah... but that’s different.

I don't think I even asked how that was different. I just accepted the fact that because they don't say "God bless America," to her, South America was not America.

NOTE about this segment as a whole. I have 3 Siblings and 45 foster siblings all of whom I love dearly. And will share random stories about periodically (in accordance with HIPPA guidelines of course). And, even though there are a lot of stories about Emily being "misinformed" I in no way am insulting her intelligence. She's SO smart... Graduated top of her class at UofM and is starting her Master's in the fall- and i couldn't be prouder. ALSO, I can’t wait for my older sister Kelly’s Video Blog to be up and running, which you should all follow as well because it will be hilarious. However. I have Way more stories about Emily being… Emily, and will probably share those more often with no sense of favoritism, but rather marketability.

Reasons I must work for the MTA

2010-01-11T15:37:00.000-05:00

there is one reason and one reason only that I need to work for the MTA. I just don't understand what being an employee of something like the MTA would be like. no comprehension.

Questions I have.

Are there certain train lines that are better to work for than others? (yes) Do you need to work your way up to them? do you start out on a shitty train like the G or the 7, or even worse, the S and work your way up to the ACE or 456?

Do you need to work your way up to being the one that announces what stop you're at? is that considered a big promotion? how long does it take to work your way up to something like that. Since i have a degree in theatre and 10+ years of experience in public speaking, do you think they'd start me off there? even if it is just on a shitty train

Would it be better to be a train announcer on a shitty train, or a regular train operator on a good train?

Where do you go TO work? do you sign in somewhere? are the shift times starting in 7-9 minute increments? do just show up to west 4th at 3:57 everyday? if the train is late picking you up for your shift, do you not get paid for the time you spend waiting on the platform? what if you're late to work (inevitably the train you ride to work is sometimes late) does the person you're relieving have to stay on the train for another round until they're back at west 4th? god forbid its an uptown train and you were stuck riding up the the bronx and back down to west 4th because some asshole was 3 minutes late getting to work that day. speaking of relief, how do you take a bathroom break?

How is it that they all seem like they're friends? you're pretty much in that booth thing alone. do they have headsets so they can chat? (like i inappropriately do with my crew when i'm stage managing a show. "cue light cue 34. light cue 34 go. so.... you. spot light operator. any good sex dreams lately???")

How do your supervisors know if you're doing a good job? are there "secret riders" checking in on you?

Is there a script, or at least some sort of list with the order of the stops? and transfers. hey-sues. can you imagine learning all of the transfers? there are some really tricky ones where you have to go above ground and walk a block and reswipe your card for a free transfer. how much leeway do you get with that script? i've heard some pretty creative train announcements. i wonder if that sort of thing is encouraged or frowned upon.

Who makes more money, train conductors or bus drivers?

most of all. i just want to understand the tunnels. its so crazy down there! I don't understand how you can be on the f train, look to your left across the platform and see the b train, then at the next stop, the platform and the b train are on your right. HOW DID THEY SWITCH SIDES???? Weekend services with all of the switches... why and how is the E train showing up at essex delancey? why isn't it just an F train. that just seems stupid. But until i see some sort of map of the tunnels, i really can't judge. I want to see a picture of NYC but a cross section like you see of huge ships with all of the subway tunnels and their depth into the city and the way that they intersect and the mole people.

There are just too many questions. too much i may never understand. most of the time when i have this many questions about something and really no way to find out the answers, i just assume it doesn't exist. like the stock market or the universe or unconditional love. But there's a chance i could one day learn at least some of this. and the only way to do that is to get a job there. so that is what i must do. i wonder if they have health insurance.

day late and dollar short. but what else is new.

2010-01-07T11:53:00.000-05:00

Wow. I've been terrible at this blog thing for quite some time now. My apologies. I know how much you all look forward to reading my quirky witty narrative stylings and have little else going on in your lives. well i've been busy so BACK OFF.

stylings isn't a word.

I feel like i should make some sort of effort to recap 2009. make a top ten list. share my favorite songs. list my favorite movies. However, I don't really like doing any of those things. I always feel too much pressure. How am i supposed to pick just 10 moments? What if i forget a really good song that came out in February of 2009? What if I Accidentally pick a movie that came out in December 2008? plus lets be honest... I just can't be held responsible for those types of decisions. I'm seriously having a bit of an anxiety attack just thinking about it.

BUT what i will say is that in 2009 i made a LOT of really good friends, developed friendships with a lot of old friends, learned a thing or two about myself, became much stronger (not so much physically) and better at standing up for myself, made a lot of really important steps in my career, probably drank a little too much but had a lot of fun doing it, and my boobs got a little bigger. All together, not too shabby.

I know i say this a lot, but i really do love my friends. so. freaking. grateful.

I don't know why, but somehow i have an easier time picking a best/worst "insert category here" of all time rather than just in a year.

I had the Worst Cab ride of my life on new years eve. the cab driver yelled at me the ENTIRE time for ruining his new years. I'm sorry. i live in brooklyn. i have to go home. I'm know you'd rather stay in manhattan, but trust me, its not the end of the world. he also said, and i quote (hence the quotation marks) "i don't understand how your boyfriend (referring to a friend who helped me catch a cab) is so nice and you're such a bitch." Really? did you just call me a BITCH to my face? and I'm single. thanks for that painful reminder on new years. Are you expecting a tip? (yes. i still gave him a tip. it was new years eve and i made him drive to brooklyn).

Also, my roommates planned the best birthday party I've ever had. i have literally never been so flattered or felt so loved and special. they really went all out. the entire apt was decorated, matt made a huge poster of my face, roger called my mom and got pictures of me 'thru the years' and made a slide show, bunches of friends showed up despite the worst blizzard in the history of NYC, and i put in pretty much zero effort in any of it. thanks to everyone for that. it made turning old a little more bearable.

Honorable mention must go to my 6th birthday when i had a surprise birthday party at pizza hut where we got to make our own personal pan pizzas in the actual pizza hut kitchen. how sweet is that? its a close, close second.

looking forward. goals. 2010. I have to be honest, for some reason i'm not THAT optimistic. I'm not pessimistic either. I guess saying things like "this is gonna be my year" seems a bit overwhelming. I do much better with short term goals. maybe this is why i never actually get anything done. maybe its also just that i started the year in kind of a funky mood. I turned 25, and all of a sudden its 2010, and i feel a little behind in a lot of what i wanted for my life. So I decided to just not care at all about anything. So what? its a new year. big whoop. I'm 25 and haven't really done anything with my life, who gives a shit? Yeah i'm single, but I wouldn't date you anyway. so there. I'm giving myself 2 more days of this attitude then i'll be done with it. i promise.

In the mean time, i'm going to set some goals that maybe will pull me out of this funk. 1. get an agent 2. find a way to start meeting new people 3. meet said new people 4. be a little healthier 5. save more money so i can travel and move into a prettier apartment 6. stop being lazy 7. get my act together. I think this is a pretty decent list. realistic. productive. obtainable.

thats pretty much all i have to say about new years. 11 days late.

They call her Christmas Carol

2009-12-09T17:53:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite things to do around Christmas is to SING Christmas songs with my family. Not only do I love sitting in the living room, my mom at the piano, singing "Oh Holy Night" and busting out some beautiful 3-4 part harmony for "FALLLLLL on your KNEEEEES," or even the slightly sillier "Glo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oria" sung with some weird counter melody we've developed throughout the years, but I also love creating our own versions of Christmas songs, or new Christmas songs all together. I must admit my sisters, Emily and Kelly, are WAYYY better at this than I am.

I remember walking through a Pick'n'Save around the holidays singing in a round, Kelly starting, then me... then Emily, approximately 8 years old, right on key, but slightly distracted and silly...

K: Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas
C: Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas
E: I can't believe that it is CREAM FILLED.
followed by perfect three part harmony for "everywhere we gooooo."

We still sing that version to this day. I highly recommend you try it out.

Emily also deserves a blogspot shout out for her cover of a classic Elvis tune. Only Emily unlike Elvis realized, who needs a back up singer to do what you can clearly do yourself with a nice little--

"I'll have a blu WOOOOHOOOOHOOOHOOOHOOOO chris WOOOHOOOOHOOOHOOOHOOO withou WHOOOHOOOHOOOHOOO. WHOOOOHOOOHOOOHOOOHOOO."

She likes to pull that one out regardless of season. and actually the first time she sang it to me she was asking me "Case, what's that song that goes WOOOHOOOHOOOHOOHOO wwwWWWOOOOHOOOHOOOHOOOHOO." That's one of Em's favorite games to play with me. not so much a game... she genuinely doesn't know the answer. not like my dad quizing me on who the guitar player for the Eagles is. Either way.... I still always win. Even when Emily gives me lines from movies or descriptions of actors that contain zero English words. Just facial expressions and mumbling. K. Back to Christmas.

My Holiday claim to fame is a nice version of "Feliz Navidad." Luckily enough for me, this one was caught on tape for everyone to remember. forever. regardless of how hard I try to forget it. All of these other Christmas song stories are so fun and I'm so proud to be a part of. this one i'm actually embarrassed about. anyway. The video starts out with the three of us girls sitting around the piano singing some nice Spanish songs, like every Irish/Welsh/Scottish family of young girls growing up in the suburbs of Milwaukee. Then, i decide to jump out of the group, face directly toward the camera and with a real nice guttural attempt at a belt sing "I WANNA WISH YOU A MErRrRrRrY CHRISTMAS." Emily's doing her own guttural "Merry" in the background, too. It doesn't sound good. And even worse is the way I look. I am approximately 10 years old (I know in the video i announce at least 500 times my age, as I had just turned whatever age it was. But i'm having a hard time remembering if it's 10 or possibly 11). I am wearing a Christmas sweatshirt that belongs to my dad (cus that's a cool person for a young girl to borrow clothes from) RED sweatpants, complete with tight elastic bands at the ankles, and bright yellow socks. Did not know i was being taped? I seem to remember being the one to set up the video camera, but how could this be? I'm also wearing glasses that are too large for my face, and probably weren't hip even in circa 1994 and have a poorly maintained perm. again, i don't remember exactly, but i don't think perms were 'in' in 1994, either. i was a really awesome kid. The Spanish tunes were followed by a relatively unprovoked impromptu version of "We Love You Jesus" sung to the tune of that Bye Bye Birdie Song "We love you Conrad" and some marching.

let's stop talking about that video now.

We also LOVE LOVE LOVE listening to the Oakridge Boys Christmas CD (except maybe my brother, who is 7 years older than am... but he does a very good job of putting up with it). I know.. who are we? but trust me its GREAT. We all sing while we decorate the tree. We make up dances. We call Kelly to sing to her when she's at her in-laws (oh yeah... I'm talking very recently people. this isn't us just being crazy kids). The singing is actually pretty impressive. The dancing... not our best work (clearly our N*sync dance is... but these dances are kind of insulting to our actual talent. but So. Much. Fun). To give you an idea, I'll do the best I can in words... and maybe one day Kelly can pick up where I left off when she has her video blog.

Actual Dance steps:
"Its Christmas" (turn in a circle)
"Its paintin' the town" (pretend like you're painting)
"With red and silver bells" (something similar to the shopping cart. a lot of reaching. pick up your feet a little to make it that much better)
"and laughter all around" (left arm in scooping circle across front of body. repeat with the right).

I think you get the idea. If you don't, no worries. I'll be happy to demonstrate.

however. nothing. i repeat NOTHING. can top our original Christmas song. Here's how it came to be.

While visiting family in Butler, PA, Kelly, Emily and I wondered off from the rest of the fam and found a antique/craft/record store. and luckily so. one of these records happened to be "Christmas Eve with Colonial Sanders." Clearly you don't pass something like that up. I don't care if you don't have a record player (which we didn't), or if you find out he doesn't sing any of the songs (which he doesn't). It Colonial Sanders. And he's sleeping in front of a fireplace on the album cover. You give the clerk whatever amount of money he's asking, and you leave the store knowing you just made the best purchase of your life. And then you hope your older sister is as cool as mine to write the following song.

KENTUCKY FRIED CHRISTMAS by the Wright Family (mostly kelly, but I'm giving us all credit.)

The verses, being completely improvisational, vary from time to time. However it was something along the lines of...

Santa Claus came over put a reindeer on his lap
and fed that reindeer some Chicken
that reindeer well he had no hands
but licked his lips 'n said it's good comma finger lickin'

OOOOHHHHH

CHORUS (always the same. I come in with some harmony. There's knee slapping involved)
Kentucky Fried Christmas, its the only way to go
even though i live in missoura
You might wonder, why i say missoura
but its not missouri its missoura.

Don't you wish you got to spend Christmas at my house???

oh no. now i'm homesick. :(

train.

2009-12-08T11:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday on my way to Carrie's after work (an offer of vodka won out over painting, sleeping and cooking)I was listening to my ipod loud enough to avoid everything else going on in the world. duh. I started watching a woman, and as much as I feel rude eavesdropping, I decided to see how much sign language i remembered from the 4 years of ASL i took in college. Turns out, she wasn't signing at all, she was just Italian. And probably from Long Island. But it took me a good 5 minutes to figure that out. and then i watched her about 10 minutes later convinced that no one could talk with their hands THAT much and I must be really rusty... but nope. she wasn't deaf. nor was she hard of hearing. nor were the people she was with.

also, i don't know if i look exceptionally good yesterday, or exceptionally bad (such a fine line between the two) but there were at least 6 different old creepy men hard core staring at me in my 45 minute commute.

also, i don't understand the V train. why does it even exist? does it ever leave the 2nd ave stop? I saw 2 F trains go by, and the V was still sitting there.

if its gonna be at all its gonna be with you

2009-12-07T13:34:00.000-05:00

That title will probably have nothing to do with my actual blog. i just like that song. I'm feeling slightly ADD today. and like i'm coming down with some sort of cold. or maybe its just because my room was pretty cold last night (damn no control of the heat in my apartment and a wall of windows in my bedroom) and i usually wake up with a sore throat if that happens. On second thought... its probably ADHD.

Too ADHD for paragraphs. or even complete sentences. so list it is...

* I filmed until 1am on Friday, and still decided it was a good idea to head into the city to meet up with some friends. i was right. it was a good idea. i like my friends.
* On Saturday morning i took a shower at Gregs place when i showed up to set. i thought that was funny. I generally shower before i get somewhere, but i realized why wake up any earlier than i have to when i can just show up and shower while Greg and Jeff are setting up the shoot for the day?!?
* During filming on Saturday I fell asleep no less than 3 times. we got done at about 9, so i had a drink with Greg and Jeff, then bridget told me to come downstairs for a drink since she lives in the same building. so i went downstairs to say hi with my hair all gelled back, no make up on, and sweatpants, and then found out that she was having a party at her place. i felt like an idiot. but clearly don't really care. I ended up just borrowing clothes from her and doing my makeup and hair on her kitchen counter before heading out to Danielle's bday party.
* Drag Queens love me.
* Gay strippers also love me.
* Gay men in general seem to think i'm pretty fabulous.
* I will write more about filming at some point. just waiting for some uploadable pictures from the photographer.
* I appreciate honesty. i think its really really important.
* Yesterday, Roger and I were both in the kitchen, me baking cookies, him washing dishes, when he found a container that they had used for gravy on Thanksgiving that hadn't been rinsed out... or even emptied. He poured it in the sink, and we both had to pretty much leave the room because the smell was so atrocious. rancid animal fat. horrendous.Thank God for Matt who came over and cleaned it out of the drain. I feel like in this situation, most people, especially girls, would be really upset about something like that... but i thought it was really funny. it made me like my roommates more. to all be standing in the kitchen gagging and laughing... there's really nothing like that. I was a little worried that it would taint (haha. taint) my cookies. but they didn't taste at all like rotten gravy. they were just a little overcooked... i'll have to find someway to blame that on the boys, but have yet to figure out how.
* In the past 2 weeks, both of the male doctors i work for have asked me for advice on women. The 2 women in my office talk with me about boys and dating and relationships and babies on a pretty regular basis. But the boys in the office are finally starting to realize what a relationship guru i am (please don't laugh too hard at that last statement). Actually with both of them, i've said something along the lines of "i don't know, that sounds like one of those 'stupid girl' things to do. i have no idea what i would do if i had to put up with that." or "I dont know why women do that. i've never done anything like that, so i can't really help you out." To which my boss replied "you're more of a guy, arent you." i wasn't really sure what to say to that. yes???
* the first even semi-smooth transition of stories to happen in this blog post is about to happen.
* after a long conversation with matt on saturday night, he asked me "do you ever feel like one of the guys other than [realizes what he's saying]...everyday?" nope. pretty much just everyday.
* I'm glad I'm not a stupid girl. i think i'm a girlie girl in all the cool ways... i like shoes. i cry at sappy movies but don't let them dictate my expectations of love. i bake cookies for my friends' birthdays. i go shopping with the gays and pick out outfits for them. but, it seems like all the stupid girls have boyfriends, and i don't. do i need to be a stupid girl to ever actually have a boyfriend? i would like to think not. i would like to think that any guy that i choose to date would be cool enough to not want to date a stupid girl anyway.
* I'm a little sleep deprived (if you couldn't tell). On saturday night, i was talking to my friend Madalyn and had to stop mid sentence maybe a half dozen times to figure out what i was talking about because i had no recollection of what words had just come out of my mouth or what happened next in the story i was telling. insane.
* Despite the crazy loopyness of being so overtired these days, all i wanted to do last night was paint my apartment. if i found my roller... i probably would have.
* I'm supposed to be doing holiday postcards right now for work. i think that sounds really boring. also, a little bit of a waste of my college degree.
* My new goal is to have enough paying acting jobs to quit my day job. even though i really like my day job. how sweet would it be to JUST be an actor. or a trophy wife. but who are we kidding, i'm not really socially acceptable enough for that.
* "I don't even know what good anymore" -Andy Warhol's character in the movie "Basquiat"
* For some reason "Warhol" is a recognized word in my spell check's dictionary. but the possessive form is not.
* I don't understand skim milk.
* I don't know how much sushi is an acceptable to eat for lunch for someone of my size and stature.
* I really want to see the move "Brothers." Who would like to join me?
* I'm gonna try to start using the phrase "You betcha" more when people ask me really serious questions. its really never an appropriate response. I also want to start telling people to "grow up" more. always, always funny.
* Last night that AT&T commercial with Luke Wilson came on TV and I said in utter shock "WOW did he get fat!!!" and Matt looked at me and said "that's what you said yesterday when we watched it." I knew i had never seen that commercial, so I said very matter-of-factly "No i didn't." And Roger looked at me and said "yeah you did. when you were watching Glee." matt said "you even said it in the exact same way." who knew?
* I'm proud of myself for out-crazy-stream-of-consciousnessing Katie Della Mora.
* Just found out filming for tonight is canceled. so do i pick up a paint roller on my way home? or do i cook a nice dinner for myself then play the piano? or go straight to bed before i become anymore crazy than i am right now. I'm also really broke, and if i start painting one wall, i'm gonna wanna get more paint to redo my kitchen and bathroom too. can't.decide. wish i had a corporate sponsor for my life. hmmm... Tune in tomorrow to find out what i decided to do.

just re-read about half of this. its clearly not anything anyone will ever care about, nor is it even all that funny. Katie's blogging rule is she has to laugh at what she wrote at least once when she re-reads it. I"m probably just going to post it cus i'm too lazy to spend time rereading it.

peace out y'all.

DTW

2009-12-01T14:38:00.000-05:00

As I was sitting at the Detroit Airport for 5 hours cus Delta sucks... this is the announcement I listened to repeatedly:

"Detroit, Michigan is in the Eastern Standard Time Zone. For the correct time, please check a clock."

Thank you random announcement voice guy. Whatever would i do without you.

an introduction to the crazy

2009-11-12T13:39:00.000-05:00

So... every once in a while, my mind takes an idea and just runs with it. unprompted. i just get these very vivid images of something hilarious, and laugh to myself. kind of like ally mcbeal, only i know they're not real. most of the time. but i always kind of secretly hope it will actually happen at some point. Except for the subway rat meetings, where i'm passing from the uptown train in that cement tunnel thats always creepy and unpopulated and smells like pee under the tracks to the downtown platform, and i stumble on a rat meeting where one rat has on a vest and glasses and is standing at a podium and all of the other rats are standing on 2 legs and have clipboards and are nodding intently and taking notes. then they all slowly turn to me as i stand there dumbfounded and the rat at the podium says "excuse me ma'am. can i help you?" and i apologetically turn around and just get on an uptown train even though i need to go downtown just to get the fuck away from those rats. WHAT are they planning???? I have this image in my head every time i start down the stairs to any transfer like this (namely at bridget's stop on the G cust its the creepiest). Actually, i secretly even hope that happens just so i can tell everyone i told you so.

but that thought is nothing new. i think a majority of my readers (the thousands and thousands of you) already know that because you've been with me as i hesitantly look around in corner in absolute terror. Here's the image that i keep laughing about lately.

The bathroom at work is actually down the hall from my office (there's only 2 offices on the 8th floor and i think a total 5 female employs plus a handful of patients.) There's one of the older paper towel dispensers that has individual sheets of paper towel, the kind you have to 'pull with both hands' and then wait for the next sheet to pop out with a little wheel on the side in case it doesn't. There's also, in red lettering, a label pointing to that wheel that says EMERGENCY FEED. which cracks me up. Every time i pull my first sheet of paper towel and am waiting for the 2nd sheet to pop up, i contemplate what would qualify as a paper towel EMERGENCY and invision a woman running into the bathroom in that 30 seconds between sheet screaming and waiving her hands in the air "WE NEED PAPER TOWELS!! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! OUT OF THE WAY I NEED THAT NEXT PAPERTOWEL" and i have to help her by turning the wheel because there's no time to wait for the next sheet to pop out on its own. I have yet to come up with what i think this paper towel emergency is. I'm probably going to have to brain storm on that before i.... what exactly? i don't know. but as of right now, i'm unwilling to commit to any specific situation.

I take these little vignettes really seriously. Actually, again referring to the rat meeting, One time Tim made reference to it as we were at that damn stop on the G, "Maybe we'll run into that rat king down there" or something along those lines and i laughed for a little bit, then just felt completely unsettled and got really serious and said "Ok, but its not really a king as much as it a CEO." "right. right. i'm sorry. Rat CEO." Thanks Tim. Luckily for me my friends understand these things about me. they're kinda crazy too.

i like that i'm tagging this as RAT CEO. now i'm praying that someone will do a google blog search for rat ceo and read this and we'll fall madly in love and have lots of babies. who would search rat ceo? If there's someone out there who does, call me.

Neoplasticism Pictures

2009-11-10T09:52:00.000-05:00

Last month I modeled in a hair show for some of my old co-workers at good ole Arrojo Studio. Here's the pics from their website!

OK... here's the pictures of ME on their website. There's a bunch of other great pics. The stylists did a wonderful job putting together an amazing show. Check out the rest of the pics at http://www.arrojostudio.com/studio/featured/neoplasticism.html

Sunday Funday

2009-11-09T15:56:00.000-05:00

I'm normally not a big fan of leaving my house on Sundays. I'm usually in my sweatpants and glasses with my hair in a ponytail napping in various parts of my apartment. sometimes i drop off my laundry. sometimes i don't.

this Sunday, however, I arranged a play date with Tim. I had canceled on him on thursday because my horoscope said i wouldn't be in the mood for deep conversation, but to not be offended, i'd be ready in 3 days. I was extremely offended. I don't like my horoscope calling me shallow. You know whats shallow? horoscopes. Anyway, that night i was getting ready to leave work and although i was really excited to see Tim because i LOVE him, i started thinking "wow... its been a really long time since i've really talked to him. if i want to tell him about this, i'm gonna have to tell him about this and this and this and i'm not in the mood." touche, horoscope. i will never judge you again.

SO, i text tim and set up a coffee date for 6ish when he was done with his sample sale. then i started watching glee and almost canceled on him again again because i really just wanted to keep watching that show. BUT i didn't. Mostly for issues of pride and self esteem of not actually being that shallow. and because i was desperate to get out of the funky mood i had been in that morning (10am-5pm) and Tim always puts me in a good mood. AND because i love tim. We had a great time sitting at a dinner and catching up and laughing and gossiping, and eavesdropping on the couple next to us who were talking about some 'faggot' and some 'slut' and we wondered if they were referring to us (they couldn't have been... right?). Then we took advantage of the BEAUTIFUL fall night and walked from Madison Square Garden to Union Square where i got on the train to go home.

only, i met up with justin instead for free tequila night. which sounded like a terrible idea for a sunday. but seeing justin sounded like a great one. so i met up with him for a seltzer water with lime and sipped on a tequila sunrise... which was mostly orange juice. Justin told me a poop joke, and i laughed like a school girl. Then, his friend leaned over about 2 hours later and whispered discreetly as the bathroom door behind us flew open and a waive of STANK entered the bar "Someone forgot to use the air freshener." Justin yelled "POOP" in a bar of maybe 15 people all very much in ear shot of this former Kent State Cheerleader. That is why he's my favorite. Then he walked me to the bodega so i could get a sandwich (he talked me out of the fried chicken i really really really wanted) and we found incense called "mj's moonwalk"

maybe i'll start leaving the house on sundays more often.

speaking horoscopes (which i'm in all actuality not even that into) today mine included the phrase "Don't be overly dramatic about your own version of paradise lost." I stopped judging you. please stop judging me. can't we all just get along?

Fun times on the train. this will be a reoccuring segment, i'm sure.

2009-11-09T12:38:00.001-05:00

I forgot my ipod at work on friday. so my mind was going extra crazy on the train ALL weekend. Which was actually ok, because there were a lot of funny things happening on the train that balanced out the anxiety. On friday on my way home from work, there were a bunch of guys talking about the Parade for the Yankees (i don't know if you heard, but they won the world series. its a really big deal). I felt like i was watching a sketch comedy group of people making fun of yankees fans with those terrible long island accents. I was sitting next to them and just blatantly laughing at what they were saying. Until this kid who was probably 4 or 5 got on the train who was just tall enough to barely see out the window when standing by the door. this kid was giggling one of those little kid contagious belly laughs and there were literally a good 8 of us adults (i guess not 'us' adults. i'm more of a preteen) just staring at this kid and laughing too. it was awesome. and we all just kept looking at this kid and looking at each other and laughing. For as big of a city as New York is, there have for sure been a lot of moments when it feels like such a small little community of friends. On Halloween i was on the J train and there was this little girl sitting facing away from her mother on a little pink plastic cell phone, her mother on her real cell phone, having a conversation. Her mother kept laughing, so i decided to hit pause on my ipod and eavesdrop. At one point the little girl said "are you lis'nin to me chil'" and her mother said "did you just call me 'child'" to which the little girl responded "Mmmmhmmm." The train was kind of empty at 9pm on a saturday night, but those of us who were lucky enough to overhear this conversation started cracking up. i heart nyc.

that being said. there are also SO many moments on the train that make me want to shoot myself in the knee cap. once there was a lady on the train who had her 18 month child in a stroller in front of her on the train. the baby was crying and reaching for her, she was reading a book (a lesbian porno novel that i WISH SO BADLY i remembered the name of) and had her headphones in. She kept looking at the baby and saying "what? whats the matter with you? why do you keep grabbing at my leg?" Now, i don't have children. and i understand that there are times when communication with a child who don't have verbal skills yet. however. this is not one of those times. everyone knows what that child wants. If you chose to turn the stroller so the child can no longer reach your leg, and continue living in your world of erotica and ipods... you better have brought an ipod for everyone on the train. i don't want to listen to your child screaming. that poor, poor baby.

Anyway. there will be more subway stories to come. some funny. some sad. some gross. all amazing, i'm sure.

Not a girl...

2009-11-06T13:12:00.000-05:00

this blog title is dedicated to my roommate roger, who not only will make a joke about me looking like a 12 year old boy, but will also appreciate the brit reference. which i promise the rest of my blog readers i will never make again.

i'm turning 25 in less than a month. yikes. every year i have a tiny anxiety attack about turning older and not accomplishing enough with my life. but this year, i think its real. i mean... 25 sounds old, right? like i should maybe be a grown up?

but more so than sounding old, I'm starting to feel old. which is gross. I'm too tired to do anything after work now. all i ever want to do is put on a pair of sweat pants, drink a glass of wine and complain about the neighbor's dog barking. I now wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. that can't be a good sign. if i eat fatty foods, i gain weight.I don't have a single joint on my body that still works properly. I crave things like spinach and brussel sprouts. I don't understand technology. I still can't use my blackberry and i've had it for 3 months. I tried to 'follow' my friend jon's blog (because he's the bestest and i love him) and it made me pick a different picture for my 'profile'. I thought this was all through google? so why do i have one picture for my gchat, another for this blog and another for following his blog? Also, whats the difference between following a blog, and having it on you 'reader'or 'blogroll'???

old.

on a much more disturbing note, i can no longer do shots of whiskey. In college, i loved doing shots of Jack. I didn't even care if it was warm. I just liked being a bad ass. Now i can't because it hurts my tummy. and i wake up with indigestion. And its hard enough for me to overcome a hangover in my old age as it is.

Other disturbing signs: I get really excited for the pottery barn catalog to come in. I am obsessed with housewares even at places like Family Dollar (the other night while buying my cocoa pebbles... sign of a true grown up... i also considered buying a blender, even though i haven't used or needed to use a blender in about 4 years. I also browsed the placemats, all of which were hideous. oh. and i don't have a kitchen table). I also love looking at office supplies, but always have. Every fall since graduation i get a little depressed that i don't get to go back to school shopping. i don't think that makes me old, but i thought of it, so i typed it.

Most terrifying sign: I'm starting to like pop music. Not just beyonce, who is clearly amazing. But like.. John Mayer, Matchbox 20, Taylor Swift's new song about being fucking 15 years old, That Train song (although in my head the lyrics are adam sandler saying "meestah meestah" instead of the train guy saying 'mister mister'). WHO AM I???? i used to have such good taste in music and hate when sappy shit like that played on the radio. although i genuinely like the meestah meestah part and think the younger hipper version of me would like it too.

At the same time, i don't really feel like i'm "growing up" all that much. i still live in a filthy apartment with 3 boys. we always have beer cans--and usually 40's-- on the end table. By end table, i mean piece of drywall that we've place on a Rubbermaid bin in front of our couch. All of which i absolutely love. not really the filth or the beer cans or the makeshift end table, but the atmosphere.

a majority of my girl friends from high school are engaged, married, mommys... i'm no where near any of that. and don't *think i* want to be.

Professionally, i think i'll always think i should be doing bigger and better. But I can also actually recognize the fact that I'm doing pretty well for myself these days. yay for that.

its a weird middle ground. i'm not sure how i feel about it.

Also around my birthday, and sometimes on random days anytime of year, I think if i'm walking up to somewhere that is abnormally quiet that its going to be my surprise party. Seriously. for as long as i've know that surprise parties exist. and even now that i'm old enough to know that if i walk up to my apartment on July 15th and the dead bolt is locked and no one is making any noise that there is a 99.9% chance that is NOT my surprise party, that .1% still gets me excited.

Maybe I'll write a blog...

2009-11-05T12:38:00.000-05:00

I've been considering writing a blog for a while now. Like... since I moved to New York a year and 2 months ago. Then I thought I'd start one for my one year anniversary in New York 2 months ago. Finally... I'm doing it. mostly because i am so funny and think i should do the world a favor by sharing my funny thoughts. Ok, actually there are only a handful of people that think i'm funny. ME being my number one fan. Most people just think I'm a weirdi. thats ok with me. I really like me. and i really like writing.

I've also decided in the past week that its time for a new leaf. I'm going to be really focusing on the Acting/modeling/writing/music thing... and that is all keeping me very busy, which is really really good. I'm also going to be focusing on only surrounding myself with people that i like and that support me.I've given up on the idea of ever dating anyone in this city. and thats ok, i have amazing friends, thats all that matters, right? (my co-worker gave me a shirt that says "white boys. fuck all y'all." and i love it. thanks niki!) I'm going to be more selfish... in a good way. And i'm going to fill my life with as much fun and laughter as humanly possible. After all, i'm young, and in the city of my dreams, pursuing a career i've been passionate about since i was a kid, i have 3 roommates who are so fun and funny, and i have awesome friends.

I don't always do things like capitalize letters or use apostrophes for contractions or proof read my stream of consciousness writing style. and i can't spell. and i'm a polite, well educated young individual, however i think the word 'poop' is hilarious, and sometimes things that are not P.C. are really funny. also, i sometimes have a bit of a potty mouth. sorry if you find that sort of thing offensive... or if you're my dad and you're utterly disappointed in the way i turned out. those are the things you should know that about my my blog.

Also, more so than me being funny, living in new york is so funny! and i'm an idiot. funny stuff happens literally everyday. and what else am i supposed to do with these gems of stories? so i will blog them, and one day make a fantastic movie about being crazy in new york featuring me and a bunch of homeless people on the subway. For now, if you're bored at work, you should read Tim's blog and his 'bored at work' entries, and then you should read mine.

so thats my blog. I may or may not use it for professional purposes too... like bragging about all the cool shit i'm doing and how i'm dealing with all the fortune and fame. or maybe i'll start a more professional blog... thoughts? also, i might describe the outfits i'm wearing as everyday i put together a true masterpiece, and not enough people get to appreciate it. I'll probably start this thing off with a bang and post more later today.

do i need to come up with a clever way to sign off?