In New York! Landed at 530am after a sleep-free red eye (it was my first time on a plane with my own TV how could I sleep?!) and finally getting a nice nap in before the craziness of DCM begins. Also I’m close enough to Central Park that there is no reason to NOT go for a run when I wake up.
I love the sounds of the city coming through the open window, although I wish they were accompanied by a fucking BREEZE.
Come see my first show of the weekend tonight at the Hudson Guild at 10:30! It’s gonna be fun! We are performing Tracers.
I have to share some of the theme songs I’ve sold to people. I wrote this one for Christina a few weeks ago. It came out nothing like a sitcom theme song, so I apologize for the false advertising, however I also have to admit that at least once a week I end up having this song stuck in my head.
“My Dad built a teleportation device from some plans he bought off Ebay from some guy named Seth, and I was playing hide and seek with my Robot in his Lab while he was supposed to be watching me instead of playing with the teleporter… Anyway, after the smoke cleared, I was okay, accept for the fact that I was in my birthday suit and the cool calculator and gadget watch I was wearing before I disappeared was now gone… and suddenly I was really REALLY good at math. And if you press my nose, my eyes light up for about 10 seconds in the dark. Other than that, I’m great.”—
You know how for $5 I will write and record a theme song about someone?
Today I biked 25 miles then ran three. This shit is getting tiresome, yo.
A few notes about biking -
1) It sucks
2) I hate it
It just takes SO LONG to bike a long distance. It’s the most boring thing in the world and I do not like it. When I first started biking I had big dreams in my mind that I was going to be one of those types who shuns their car and bikes to work and to class class and everywhere. I’d be better than all of those drivers because I refuse to be confined by the shackles of my automobile. I’d zip through traffic, get some fresh air, and build up ridiculous leg muscles.
I figured everything would be just like The Immortal Class, a book about bike messengers that was required reading in my Thought & Writing class at Columbia, which I never read, sold back to the bookstore, and now five years later actually kind of want to read but probably won’t because really, who am I trying to impress?
It’s not like any of that at all. I refuse to get on my bike when I’m not training. Why would I want to? Maybe once the tri is over I’ll be a bike commuter. But not now. Not in this heat.
Also, who are these people biking without a helmet? You are fucking idiots. On the rare occasion when I DO bike to work (a condition that requires a cool breezy morning, a good night’s sleep, and the will to get up ten minutes earlier than necessary) I almost get hit by a car about four times…and I take side streets! For one mile! Also last weekend I actually fell off my bike and hit my head. So why the hell you think it makes ANY sense to ride a BICYCLE on SANTA MONICA during RUSH HOUR with no protection is so far beyond me I can’t stand it.
Oh, and I look stupid in my helmet. I’ll tell you that right now. But I’d rather LOOK retarded than BE retarded, which is what happens to you if you fall off your bike and hit your head. I read an RL Stine book in 4th grade where this girl’s older sister was pretty and popular then fell off a horse and went retarded. So I have a real. legitimate, grounded fear of that. The book was about murders at a beach or something and had little to nothing to do with the retarded older sister, but some things just stay with you.
And the fundraising…well…I’m halfway there, so that’s cool. I’m going to put together a big charity improv jam benefit because, in case you didn’t know, all improvisers are broke.
Improvisers never have money…
except to pay for improv classes
or improv coaches
or improv shows
or a drink after said shows
or roundtrip airfare to New York to do improv.
So I realized long ago that if I’m going to get any money from most of my fellow improvisers (not all! Some of you are wonderful), I’m going to have to do it by charging them to improvise.
My lease ends in two months and I have been adamant that I will not be living with people come Fall.
People keep asking me why…as if being 26 years old I am supposed to WANT or NEED to share space with people.
So, for those of you who keep questioning my decision to find an apartment of my own…just read this list.
LOU replaced all of the lights in our dorm with black lights and kept two pet piranhas.
MATT had a white person afro
DAVE would often pee in the sink
TODD got in a fist fight with my brother.
DREW would disconnect the internet router, lock it in his room, and leave for weeks at a time
PHIL freaked out when I bought the wrong kind of toilet paper
ROBBY collected Walt Disney World pins
JEREMY was fine I guess
ROBERT was just a dick
JOE was too.
ZACH used “Lala” by Ashlee Simpson as his wake-up alarm every morning
THE FRAT HOUSE was filled with guys who would get underage high school girls drunk then fuck them.
ERIC was cool
DAVE was cool
MATT once tried to crawl into my bed with me at 4am in his underwear. He kept mumbling that he wanted to sleep head to toe and got mad when I pushed him out. He did the same thing to several guests who would sleep on our couch.
JEFF WAS THE BEST EVER!
JIM doesn’t flush
MIKE will be erased from my memory forever the second I move out.