Impressively Derpy

For the past few months I've been working on "Fiddler on the Roof" at New London Theatre. All through January we have been performing it, with one last show this Saturday evening. I was cast in one of my bucket-list roles as Hodel, and it's been a great time with good friends :)

However.

I believe it was opening night when they had a professional photographer come in and shoot some bits and pieces of the show for publicity and whatnot. All of the photos are viewable on her website, http://www.orpheusandaphrodite.com/ . Most of the pictures are very nice, and do a good job of capturing the spirit of the show and whatnot.

BUT.

I can't help but notice that there are, um, several, photos of me taken at particularly awkward moments. Proving once again, that I have a gift for "posing" as it were.

I'll let them speak for themselves. Enjoy!

And if you're in the area come see Fiddler on the Roof at New London Theatre for our final performance this Saturday evening at 8pm! Buy your tickets online at viralflashtheatre.org

How is your skeleton?

Mine's itchy. 

I haven't posted anything on here in many moons. Therefore, although I sincerely doubt that anyone even reads this anymore, I will give some updates on what has gone down in the last year and a half since I wrote anything. 

1. I dyed my hair cherry red. Then I dyed it black. Black was a mistake and shall not occur again. I am now a regular ginger and shall likely be until the day I die. (GET IT DIE DYE LOLOLOLOLOLOL) 

2. I got a dog. A DOG. Finalleeeeeeeeeeeee. Her name is Moxie and she is half pomeranian, quarter affenpinscher, and quarter cocker spaniel. And yes, I did get an expensive dog DNA test done on her, because I am a person without control and a massive amount of curiosity. Mostly just about dogs though. That and wikipedia info chains. 

3. My bestest friend Amy got murried. Gross. But yay. But mostly gross. whatever. 

see: black hair mistake 

4. I went to the Marine Corps Birthday Ball with this weirdo.

note: he is actually not all that weird and I am in fact rather fond of him and he shall more than likely be around for the foreseeable future. 

5. I did two more musicals and a play: Grease, A Big Top Christmas Carol, and as of the moment, Damn Yankees; portraying Frenchie, Emma Niezer, and Sister Miller respectively. 

6. I have puppy fever and am dying to get my hands on another dog. Or twelve. But thats not news, thats just an incurable aspect of my personality and shall likely never die down. 

That is all. 

23 things I already did most of so deal with it.

Blah blah blah, new years resolutions. Whatever. 

I'm not going to bore you with that. I'm already bored just thinking about it. 

For the sake of argument, lets go on and say that my unofficial new years resolution is to be less confrontational or argumentative. Which, if you know me, is kind of my thing. Its all gravy, I work it. 

#werk

But there is something that has been bothering me for a while, and I've been holding my tongue, trying to keep from fueling the fire of an argument, regardless of how much the continual "Oh I know! I agree! It's so true! I feel the same way!" comments that people who post opposing, and often, rude, responses to this blog: 

http://wanderonwards.com/2013/12/30/23-things-to-do-instead-of-getting-engaged-before-youre-23/

On the one hand, I get that people are somewhat offended by the way she words this. I can even see how they would call it marriage-bashing. 

But I can't help but feel like these people are sort of looking for a reason to be offended by it. Of course they're going to be automatically on the defensive if they are young and married/engaged and see a post entitled "23 things to do instead of getting engaged before you're 23." I get that. Can't blame you for that, even. 

But saying scathing, albeit passive aggressive, things like accusing the girl who wrote it of being 'risque' or 'stupid.' 

Now, I read the post, and the list she created, and I have to say....  

Wat 

Call me crazy, but I don't see anything on that list that strikes me as particularly scandalous or 'risque.' The closest something comes is her #3: Make out with a stranger. 

WHOA NOW. CALL THE COPS, GET CHECKED FOR ALL THE STDS BECAUSE KISSING SOMEONE IS A TERRIBLE DECISION Y'ALL  

I'm not ashamed to admit that I've kissed a stranger before. (Sorry, Mom. Forget you read that.) Does that make me a reckless immature fool? I don't think so, but I suppose thats a matter of opinion. 

The point is, I think we're looking at this the wrong way. This is not a generalized list for every person in the free world. It's coming from a specific woman, who most likely had a more narrow group of people in mind. People like her, or her friends, or maybe she was even thinking of one friend specifically. 

Now I, personally, took this from a different perspective. 

I'm a lifetime Mormon that went to Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. Approximately 25% of undergrads are married, and that number doubles by the time they graduate. 55% of undergraduate students are married at graduation. Now, it may be a narrow margin, but technically, that does put me in the minority, seeing as I graduated with my bachelor's degree, unmarried, four years after starting school. 

What is more difficult to communicate is the culture involved therein. 

It's a somewhat unspoken, but frequently believed assumption that a young person, when going to BYU, will probably end up married during the course of their time there. 

I can't tell you how many times I've been looked at with a slightly disappointed "...Oh..." when someone learns I graduated from BYU unmarried. "Well... you're different, aren't you?" "Thats ok.... all things in their time I guess..." "I'm sure there's someone out there for you" in a condescending tone. You hear it enough times, and it gets to be borderline infuriating. It's hard not to feel like a failure when people are insinuating that if you're not married, you've done something wrong. 

So I was glad, RELIEVED even, when I saw a friend post a link to the blogpost offering what to me was a refreshing view. And a lot of people don't agree with that, and thats fine. Believe and think what you want, this is America and junk. But I don't want to have to defend myself to people who ask what's wrong with me, why I'm still single, because its a CHOICE. I have CHOSEN not to be married at this point in my life. And some people have CHOSEN to BE married right now. Good for them, some of those people are my best friends and I wish them all the happiness in the world.

So here is my slightly altered list of 23 things FOR ERIN to do. Period. 

The plain type is her original list, the bold are my alterations for various personal reasons. Red Indicates that I've already done it. 

1. Get a passport. Done. 

2. Find your “thing.” Done. 

3. Make out with a stranger. Done. 

4. Adopt a pet. Done. 

5. Start a band. Record in a professional studio. 

6. Make a cake. Make a second cake. Have your cake and eat it too. Done... 12 times over lolzzzz

7. Get a tattoo. It’s more permanent than a marriage. Donate blood without passing out or holding anyone's hand. 

8. Explore a new religion. Done.

9. Start a small business. Audition for a professional theatre company. 

10.Cut your hair. Done. 

11. Date two people at once and see how long it takes to blow up in your face. Done... well it made for a good journal entry? Hahaha  

12. Build something with your hands. Done. 

13. Accomplish a Pinterest project. Done. (Ps... cinnamon rolls in a waffle iron. genius. #justsayin)

14. Join the Peace Corps. Buy a house. 

15. Disappoint your parents. I'm sure I've done this at some point in my adolescence. 

16. Watch GIRLS, over and over again. 

17. Eat a jar of Nutella in one sitting. Eat a jar of Peanut Butter in one sitting. #hazelnutallergyproblems 

18. Make strangers feel uncomfortable in public places. Done, a million times over. 

19. Sign up for CrossFit. P90x or Insanity challenge. 

20. Hangout naked in front of a window. -- As long as that window is curtained and in a private area. #welp 

21. Write your feelings down in a blog. Done, WELL LOOKIT THAT! 

22. Be selfish. Oh, definitely done. 

23. Come with me to the Philippines for Chinese New Year. Go to Lithuania and see the place my Great Grandfather came from. Done, August 2013 

So be happy with your own life decisions, and make your own choices. And stop  posting negative nancy nastiness.

Kthxloveubye 

Everyone freakin listen for a second.

This is a public service announcement. 

If you hadn't realized it by now, I hardly ever take myself seriously. 

I say and do a lot of ridiculous things. Often on social media outlets. 

I like to post pictures of things that I think are funny and/or stupid. 

And more than anything else, I like to make fun. Mostly of myself. Only of myself, really. 

I think we all know at this point that at least 85% of what I say is sarcastic and should not be taken seriously by any means. 

I shouldn't have to make this clarification, but I'm going to anyways because apparently some people cannot get a clue. 

I am not mentally unstable.

I have real human friends that I spend time with on a regular basis. 

I am not hopelessly obsessed with my guinea pigs, nor am I a guinea pig hoarder. 

I go on dates. With actual, in the flesh boys. 

I am not currently married because I have chosen not to be yet. If I really wanted to be married right now, I would be. 

I am in excellent physical health according to my doctor. 

I am in pretty good emotional health all things considered. 

I have a loving caring family and they do not judge me or worry unnecessarily about me. 

I don't need your pity. 

I don't need your "worry." 

I don't want your superiority complex expressed upon me.

If you don't like me, if you have some sort of issue with me, if you are "worried" about me, then you don't really know me. 

And that's fine. 

But do us both a favor and lay off. 

As a final thought, an exchange between Alice and the Hatter: 

"Have I gone mad?" 

"I'm afraid so. But I'll tell you a secret - All the best people are." 

Extraordinary Sass: The movie

I'm pretty sure that's what something depicting my life and times would be called.

Now, I'm not bragging on myself here. Perhaps even the opposite. I'm not sure this is something to be proud of.

But I am one of the most sass-filled passive aggressive people I know.

I'm not always very polite about it either. Sometimes the passive in passive-aggressive is a bit ignored by my voice and I just get angry.

On Sunday, someone in church tried to make a statement that "According to the scriptures" being a vegetarian is a "sin" and then cited the scripture he believed stated this and had the nerve to call it "basically doctrine."
In all seriousness. He really did. I mean, come on, man. Really?

Now I've been a flexitarian/vegetarian type person for many months now, and I'm real frustrated by that. I felt the angry lady words coming up. The older sister sitting beside me recognized the signs and laughed mildly nervously, giving me a mint so "you can have something in your mouth to keep you from saying something you'll regret."
Clearly she knows me well... so there's that.

I did at one point say aloud to the class, "We're going to need to change the subject ASAP, or I'm gonna start gettin real sassy up in here."
Later on, the group did come around and defend my point and pretty much everyone had the same opinion as I. Thankfully.

So, for the most part we dodged a bullet there. Whew.



In the meantime, I am  channeling my sass into a completely unrelated plan that I believe shall be the pinnacle of my passive-aggressive career. Which, if you know me, is quite extensive.

It has been in the works for several months and shall come to fruition quite soon. I'm particularly thrilled to instigate it in the coming days.

If people remember me in this world as a sassy, angry, bitter person, I hope they at least can look to this particular instance and remember me with acknowledgment of brilliance and, I am unashamed to admit, vindictiveness.

It shall indeed be my crowning glory.


Yea Verily.

A little late for pooting.

About a month or so ago, I got another guinea pig.

Stop rolling your eyes. Stop it right now.

STAHP IT RAHN.

Anyways, I got him from a friend who could no longer keep him and knew I have guinea pigs already. 

I had him for over a week before he even received a name, whereupon my brother Adumb aptly deemed him "Hufflepuff." 

I've taken to calling him Puff for short. 

And don't tell Hiccup or Sniffles this, but..... 

I think he's most people's favorite. 

Not so high school musical.

Last night I was out with a group of friends from our latest community theatre show, The Crucible. It was karaoke night at the local pub and those of us over 21 (even the few of us that don't actually drink) all met up there after the show.

While we were there, a few of my friends and my boyfriend recognized a friend of theirs and met him with excitement. He then introduced himself to me, whereupon I told him that we have actually met before. Which is true.

Years ago, when I was in eighth grade, he was an assistant in directing the first play I was in, The Hobbit. He was a couple years over me and in high school. When I got to high school, we were even in several shows and musicals together, and I was in a class and shows with his twin sister as well until they graduated. We were also cast in the same show with this same community theatre group last June, but he ended up dropping out. I knew him. I knew his name. I'm pretty sure we're even Facebook friends.

And yet, this man did not know who I was.

When I said that we've met before, albeit years ago, he responded that he is bad with names but good with faces. I told him my last name and he looked at me thoughtfully for a moment then seemed to recognize me in at least some degree (or so he claimed.) he went on to tell how I've changed so much since then, look great, etc etc blah blah blah. To this moment I'm still unsure of how much I believe that he knows who I am at all.

Now as I've pondered this experience, I'm a bit torn. At first I was kind of insulted, at least a little. I knew this guy for years. We have about a hundred mutual friends, no exaggeration. And yet he had no idea who I am.

But if I take him at his word when he said that he simply didn't recognize me because I've changed so much, I have a slightly different reaction.
I mean, thank goodness.
I really have changed a phenomenal amount since high school. At least I certainly hope so. My appearance has changed pretty greatly, not to mention to butt-ton of self confidence I've gained in the years since then. I wouldn't shudder to claim I am a completely different individual than I was at that time.

So on another hand, I was sort of flattered/relieved that he didn't recognize me, due to my changed persona.

That got me thinking. If I could go back to more of the people I knew in high school, would I re-introduce myself to them as a totally new person? Especially if I consider myself to be one. There are definitely people I knew back then that I'm sure will likely have a skewed image of me in their heads for possibly years to come, as that small, shy, awkward, quiet redhead who wore t-shirts and jeans every single day of her life. (Well... Maybe not everything has changed.)
Would I change that image if I could? Should I, given the opportunity? Or should I attempt to embrace that past self, to acknowledge her and reflect and learn from it?

Would you?

And more importantly, does this stuff even matter or is my brain doing its over thinking thing again that it does so very well?

The answer is, all of the above.

An Open Letter Concerning Glee's ep. "Shooting Star"

Last night the television show Glee premiered a new episode entitled "Shooting Star." 

In this episode they detailed the thoughts and feelings surrounding a school shooting type situation. While I do think that parts of this show were well done, and a lot of raw feelings and emotions were well displayed, I had a huge issue with the way they concluded the show. 

**Spoiler Alert for those who have not yet watched it**

In the end, it was the student Becky, who has Down's Syndrome, who had brought her father's gun to school and accidentally fired shots. The reasoning they gave was that she was scared to move on from high school and that no one would protect her in the real world. 

I have a sister who is MID (Mildly Intellectually Disabled) and has been in special ed programs all her life. My family and I have had the opportunity to meet and have involved in our lives many others who share a similar situation or mental disability. 

I wanted to like this episode very badly. And parts of it I certainly did. I loved that there were a lot of poignant moments between the students. But the ending was so upsetting to me that I simply cannot get past it. 

My mother wrote the following open letter to the creators of the show. If you feel the same, I urge you to share this and send it along to them as well, to show that this type of thing is upsetting, hurtful, and even damaging to society. 

As she said herself, 

"Thanks, Glee, for picking on the last segment of society unable to defend themselves." 

---------

To The Writers and Producers of GLEE....

It makes me ANGRY and sad that this show who has championed the rights of gay, bisexual, and physically handicapped kids should now show a mentally handicapped Down syndrome child doing something so unlikely. In my personal 26+ years of knowing and being around them, none of them have shown the slightest proclivity to do such a thing. 

Shame. On. GLEE.

Every one of the mildly intellectually disabled (MID) people I have known shy away from such things. 

But, Thanks A Lot, GLEE. Who knows what damage you have inflicted with this? I was watching with my own 26 year old music-loving, choir-singing MID daughter after American Idol was on. Thanks a whole lot--NOT. I'm incredibly sad today and hurt more than I can say....

Her Mom

Chase: You have to stop shopping at Target.

Me: We have to break up.

The life and times of Hiccup and Sniffles

I have learned several things in this past week of owning guinea pigs.

For one thing, I have learned how to build an entire habitat on my own. With some assistance from the boyfriend... but I could have done it on my own. Just saying.

I also learned how to MOSTLY litter train them. Its a work in progress.

Also, guinea pigs poop... like, a lot. And often. Like, a whole lot.
I don't know how to emphasize the amount of pooping they do... its a lot.

Giving guinea pigs a bath is both cute and awful. Mostly though, trimming their nails is a bigger pain. Especially when one keeps trying to poop on you the entire time.

DAGNABBIT, SNIFFLES, I AM ONLY TRYING TO BE A GOOD MOTHER.


I've also been watching a lot of youtube videos about guinea pigs. Apparently you can teach them tricks!! I want to go to there.

In addition, google is probably very puzzled by my choice of searches lately.

That is all for now. Come again children.

They are not rats.

I have some exciting news, Internet People.

Last night, two new members joined my lil famdamily.

I would like to officially welcome them:

Hiccup "Rico Suave"

and

Sniffles "Johnny Bravo."

They are the two shmooshiest most adorablest guinea pigs this side of the Mississippi.

Mr. Sniffles himself. 

Hiccup Rico Suave

Frankly, I am twelve kinds of enthused about these new lil baby shmabies. 

Dawwwwwww LOOKIT THEIR FACES.

That is all. 

And now for a list of things I don't like.

I don't like:

Coldplay

Yellowcard

Making difficult decisions

The majority of high schoolers

People who don't have the cajones to tell you something to your face

Mormon Dances

Self Righteousness

Being cut off in Traffic

Nickelback

Judgmental beotches

The color puce

That is all. 

Happy Monday, you lil biznatches. 

Diary of a Vegetarian Noob: Day 2

Last night I went to a thai restaurant and ate Tofu for the first time in many years.

And guess what?

It was not bad.

It was actually, I may venture to say it, Good. I legitimately enjoyed it.

Huh. Who knew. 

I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE.

A couple nights ago, I was bored and flicking through various documentaries on Netflix. I started watching "Forks Over Knives" because I'd heard it was a good film, done by James Cameron and whatnot.

Turns out, it really does make a very compelling argument for veganism/whole foods/etc. I texted a friend that happens to be a vegan, and was telling him about my curiosity. He sent me a few videos, etc.

Now, I get emails from PETA regularly, but thats really just because I like their stickers they send me once a year for free. They make me giggle. And as a consequence of this, Ive seen more than a couple of bizarre, graphic videos detailing "exploitation" of animals and cruelty, etc etc. You know the kind. I've never really bought into it anyways, though I'm not really sure why not. I guess I just like giving people the benefit of the doubt, including the farming industry. Or something. Whatever.

Anyways, I watched this one video in particular. I've embedded it here, just for kicks and giggles. It's lengthy, but still an interesting watch. It's from a guest lecturer at Georgia Tech a couple of years ago.




Well, thanks to the compelling arguments and evidence set forth by my friends and the internet, I'm going to start trying for a while to not eat meat. Now, I don't know that I would ever become a full fledged, full-on vegan, because.... cheese. Nom. But I  have already gone extensive amounts of time before without eating meat, or even really thinking about it.

How do you know I'm legit about this? Well, let me tell you.

Today at work, I turned down a free chicken biscuit from Chik Fil A.

Its like... I don't even know who I am anymore.

Who am I??

Sigh.

I have a problem.

I have a very intense desire to dye my hair a ridiculous color. 

Darn you, Pinterest. You always make me want to do something awesome, but taunt me with the fact that I just can't.

Why, you may ask? 

(Well, my mother is probably reading this and saying something about me looking like a goth or punk etc etc for wanting to do so.) 

I think it is relatively clear that if I actually went out and did this on a wim, that it would more or less (a little bit more than less) a complete and total career killer. 

Soooooo, Unless I got a job as an eclectic artist of some sort, I probably couldn't get away with this. Especially not as a receptionist in uptown Atlanta. 

I say PROBABLY..... maybe I can sweet talk my boss. 

Pretty sure I'm his favorite anyways. 

Which is your favorite? Which (hypothetically speaking of course) would look coolest with mah face? 

I'm partial to the shades of purple right now. I had a pink streak and a burgundy streak once upon a time. Alas, no more. It was just a charming shade of womp womp brown til I smacked some dye on top of this biznatch. Now its a rather lovely "Maple Brown." Or so says the label on the box from the drugstore. 

Classy. Like a boss. 

I am aging.

And in celebration of this aging process, I think I will take a tip from this sexy mo fo and

That sounds appetizing.

A little while ago, I was typing "pop tarts" into a search bar of a website.

Don't ask.

For some reason, no results on this particular website weren't coming up. I was wrought with frustration and anger, knowing that the link I needed was somewhere nearby, but without a clue as to why it had hidden its cheeky little face.

After roughly five minutes, I happened to glance up at the search bar where I typed originally.

Turns out that one simple typo had prevented me from finding what I desired so strongly.


In my over-excitement, I had typed "poop tarts."


The ten year old inside me giggled for a good ten minutes. Oh how mature I am indeed.

I have a question.

Its a simple question, really.


In what world is it normal to tell someone that you just want to be friends, that there are "no hard feelings," that you "won't bother [them] anymore"; Claiming that "it just doesn't seem like its worth it to you, I don't want to waste my time."

This inevitably turns into an hours long argument and the other individual involved comes to the conclusion that you both just have very different personalities and different paces at life, relationships, and WHATEVER else you do, and chill out.

And roughly twenty four hours later, you invite that exact same person you just had this extremely bitter, resentful, guilt-filled exchange with, and you invite them.....

and this isn't even a joke, kids...

You invite that individual to take a trip to MOTHERTRUCKING PARIS with you.

As in France.
The country with the snails and shiz.

I DON'T GET IT.


PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES PROFANITIES



Oh. And if you hadn't gathered it by now, the answer was a resounding "I don't think so."


All hypothetically speaking, of course.



Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to hire somebody to punch me in the face and kick me in the groin for the next few months, seeing as that is starting to sound like a better idea than having one of these conversations ever again.

Shawty Get Loose... er?

This song has been stuck in my head for three weeks now.

This was my way of getting it out.

Enjoy, world.

Just another day in spooky uptown Dunwoody.

I'm at work right now, waiting for paperwork to finish scanning.

Its a lot of fun.

Anyways.

Just now, theres a woman in the hallway, just visible through the large glass windows of our office front door. From my reception desk, I can see her..... staring at me.

Just............. staring.

Its been more than three minutes of her not even moving.... just looking at me. In my eyeballs.

I'm more than mildly creeped out.

Dear mom,

If I don't come home tonight, I just wanted you to know that I love you and stuff, and whatever.... other sentimental things go in one's last will and testament. And junk.
I bequeath all my material belongings to Optimus Prime, my beloved hermit crab.
Also, please take care of my hermit crabs.
KThanks.

Here's hoping I'm not being watched by a serial killer.
Love, Erin.