Separate Stack

Bloggin' here now, y'all!

2011-05-18T12:34:00.000-07:00

Enjoy!

FRECKLEMEAT.COM

Love,
Anna

The most horrible thing you've heard all day.

2011-05-15T11:47:00.000-07:00

Last night I watched Hello Dolly!, the 1969 film adaptation of the Broadway musical. It stars Barbra Streisand and has a special place in my heart because I was in this play in high school. When I realized it was available on instant Netflix, I decided to spend my Sunday night knitting and reminiscing.

As I watched, I was struck by the amazing, downright acrobatic talents of the dancers. I mean they are doing flips, no-handed cartwheels, incredibly impressive feats. And one actor in particular (who had a small part with not a lot of lines - Barnaby) was the best of them all.

<-- This guy. Danny Lockin. Ever heard of him? Probably not. AND HERE'S WHY. As I was exploring the cast list on IMDB, I noticed that next to Danny's name it said 1943-1977, which meant he only lived to be about 34, which is a shame because of how obviously awesome he was. Figuring he died of cancer or some sort of a freak accident, I explored his bio further. After describing Danny's childhood and career, the last line of his bio states, "The life of this wonderful and multi-talented man was tragically cut short when he was brutally murdered in 1977."

BRUTALLY MURDERED?! My skin crawled and I screamed out loud when I read that. What happened? Who would, and why would, and how? I investigated further. Apparently one day in August of '77, Danny's mom drove him to a taping of The Gong Show, a sort of talent show that he and another guy were competing in together. Clearly, they danced for their talent, and ended up tying for first place. After the show, Danny's mother was going to drive him home, but he wanted to go celebrate the win with his dancing partner, so his mom went on home without him.

So Danny and his bud stopped at a nearby bar and while there met this dude named Charles Leslie Hopkins. Later that night, back at his apartment, Charles called the cops, reporting a robbery. When the cops got there they found Danny's lifeless body, stabbed ONE HUNDRED TIMES with various stabbing instruments. Charles was charged with Danny's murder because in the apartment, police found a porno mag with pictures of torture/sex orgies which prosecutors later said was used as a script for Danny's brutal murder.

But hold on a minute. It seems like a closed case, right? Well. Because of a delayed trial, and an ill-timed U.S. Supreme Court ruling that limited the use of evidence at a crime scene without a search warrant, Charles ended up doing only TWO YEARS IN JAIL. He lived jail-free for decades and then died at age 63 from a heart attack.

Prior to Danny's murder, he was teaching dance, writing a play, and recording an album. I mean think of all the things he could have done with his life. He could have been on GLEE, for frick's sake! You know, in a cute little episode starring people from Broadway's past. Instead, he rests in a cemetery in Orange County. TEARS. :( So unfair. So horrible. So unfathomable. So tragic.

Understanding the history, myths, and adventures of women's sizing

2011-04-29T09:13:00.000-07:00

I'm just going to put it right out there. Women's clothing sizes are not helpful. Consider the following images. Same person, same month, no major changes in body size or type (I would know; it's me).

Download this gallery (ZIP, null KB)

How does this even happen? What does this say about how we're marketed and sold to? And are we (the shoppers) participating in or even -- the cause of -- sizes changing and varying so drastically?

Read the rest here!

Summer of shows!

2011-04-25T14:20:00.000-07:00

You guys! It's show time. Steph and I just made it on a Six Ring team, which is the graduate level of the Brave New Institute, so we perform every other Tuesday starting tomorrow. Also, you may recall this delightful performance of in-the-dark improv called Batgirls. Well we'll be performing this three more times at a real show in June and July. Also, you might remember Zombie High School from last year. Well, the cast that brought you that piece of magic will be bringing you a new piece of magic this August. Get excited.

Six Ring Circus improv ($1):
Tues. April 26 at 7:30 pm brave new workshop
Tues May 10 at 7:30 pm brave new workshop
Tues. May 24 at 7:30 pm brave new workshop
Tues. May 31 at 7:30 pm brave new workshop
Tues. June 14 at 7:30 pm brave new workshop

Batgirls at Improv-a-go-go ($5):
Sun. June 5 at 8 pm HUGE Theater
Sun. June 12 at 8 pm HUGE Theater
Sun. July 3 at 8 pm HUGE Theater

"History Camp" Fringe shows ($12):
August 5 at 7 pm Mixed Blood
August 7 at 2:30 pm Mixed Blood
August 9 at 5:30 pm Mixed Blood
August 11 at 7 pm Mixed Blood

See you there! Unless you don't go. Then I'll just pretend you're there and do my best anyway. It'll still be fun. Don't worry. Ok love you bye.

Monster Stink Storms.

2011-04-19T12:29:00.000-07:00

Watch TB Reed and his soul patch explain the intricacies and delicacies of fresh pit bull farts. Fun suggestion: follow my eyes as his lies deepen.

Lady Napkin Face

2011-04-06T21:22:00.000-07:00

Our late night post-class happy hour was joined by Lady Napkin Face herself tonight. She sure does leave her mark. Especially on her wearer's tongue.

Pioneer woman pasta!

2011-04-06T13:17:00.000-07:00

You guys! Look what I made in my teeny kitchen! It's this with a few exchanges and additions if you wanna make it too.

Adventures in Big World!

2011-04-04T06:26:00.000-07:00

Things can get a little crazy at Ladies Weekend. They can also get a little...helpful. Don't you wish you knew how to operate your daily life in Big World? Well, now you do. Learn how to floss, brush your teeth, apply makeup, knit, drive your car, and so many other things in this very helpful and instructional video. Just...you're welcome.

You live on Avenue Q!

2011-03-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

Avenue Q opens tonight! Starring TB Reed! I got to see a preview last night and the puppets, the singing, the antics, so great. Also, see the lady top right? She was so good that after the show I gave her an attack hug. Luckily she was nice and didn't even mace me.

Here's a little info about this show. It is an "autobiographical and biographical" coming-of-age parable, addressing and satirizing the issues and anxieties associated with entering adulthood. Its characters lament that as children, they were assured by their parents, and by children's television programs such as Sesame Street, that they were "special" and "could do anything"; but as adults, they have discovered to their surprise and dismay that in the real world their options are not unlimited, and they are no more "special" than anyone else.

Top 5 reasons America's Got Talent is a farcical piece of crap.

2011-03-24T11:07:00.001-07:00

The audience is taught how to boo before the show starts, asked to practice it, and encouraged to standing-ovation boo anytime they don't like someone.
Audience members who scream out in the middle of acts or while the judges are talking are not only allowed to do so, but also rewarded with free gifts and camera time.
At least every other act, at the celebrity judge audition level, is put in to be a fall-guy for people to laugh at and the judges to berate.
Out of 12 people that I saw audition, some of the ones that passed on to the next level are a talking parrot, elderly bottle players, and a woman who sang a mediocre-at-best alto version of Ave Maria.
The judges ask contestants the same questions multiple times until the contestant finally answers the way the judge wants them to, then that's the take they keep.

There are more, so many more, but I'm too seething with rage to type.

New presents for your ear holes!

2011-03-16T11:58:00.000-07:00

Clearly, I upgraded my Shazam app to unlimited song tagging. Here are two new playlists categorized into Up songs and Down songs. Both so, so good. I promise. Your ears will smile. Enjoy!

Up Songs (for when you need to dance!):

Down Songs (for when you need to take a chill pill):

Last night I became a Minnesota Woman.

2011-03-15T12:41:00.000-07:00

You guys! To celebrate living in Minnesota for almost eight years (minus one year we'll call "bi-coastal internship year") I decided last night that it was high time I conquer the almighty tater tot hot dish. Turns out it's so, so simple. And tasty. LOOK!

Pre-cheese.

Post-cheese.

Basically, brown some ground beef (or ground turkey), mix in a cream of broc soup and a cream of potato soup, some frozen veggies, some extra corn because corn is scrumptious, and some milk because cows are nice, then line the top with frozen tots, cook for 30 min. on 350, add some grated chee' on top, then pop the sucker back in the oven for 10 minutes. Then nom!

Na na na na na na na na BATGIRLS!

2011-03-12T18:46:00.000-08:00

For all of y'alls that didn't get to see us ladies of Performance Level 3 improv class perform today, you can ~~watch us~~ listen to us perform right here. We did an improv form called "The Bat" where all the lights are turned off and we just use our voices. Hippy dippy, no? We like it.

Carry on My Wayward Bad Romance

2011-02-27T16:00:00.000-08:00

So MPR throws an employee cabaret every year, sort of like a talent show, at the Fitzgerald theater. This year, I was convinced (with minimal prodding) to be a backup dancer for the finale act. I'm in the red tutu. Than is next to me. The band largely consists of sound engineers. Check it!

Manda shows amazing way to wrap a scarf.

2011-02-27T11:51:00.000-08:00

This is going to change your life, people!

Trampoline Park!

2011-02-18T14:35:00.000-08:00

You guys. Stop it. Just listen. Just stop and listen for a sec. I WENT TO A TRAMPOLINE PARK LAST NIGHT.

It was my friend Troy's real birthday last night, so we celebrated by jumping on trampolines at an indoor trampoline park called Skyzone! Picture this. It's a big building with pretty much nothing but gigantic trampolines on the floors and walls. For reals.

This is what it looks like!

So Skyzone is in Plymouth, which is lame. But it was the most fun I have had jumping up and down in my entire life. Plus TB Reed, Troy and Taj are pro jumpers and they did flips in the air. FLIPS! We jumped so high. And the secret thing is you don't realize how hard you are working your body until 10 minutes goes by and then all of the sudden you are gasping for breath and dying of exhaustion.

Then we saw my favorite local band The Robinson Caruso Organization, which is a 10-piece R&B/Soul force of nature, capable of producing gale-force winds and devastating bouts of dancing. We danced, my dear friends. Oh how we danced.

Robinson Caruso Organization

And I just wanted to say those two things. Ok bye!

Birthday shakeface!

2011-02-16T08:33:00.000-08:00

It happened. Troy and I threw the birthday party of our wildest dreams. There was cake, there was roller skating, there was dancing, there was karaoke............and there was shakeface.

"Anna! Stop it! What is shakeface?!" you ask. Fantastic question. It's when people shake their faces as hard as they possibly can while someone takes a flash photo of them. Note - I have very attractive friends. This fact is not evidenced by the following photos.

Troy Zimmerman

Andrew Foreman

Alyson Wise

Josh Kuehn

Adam Paolo

James Rone

Erin Sheppard, vampiress

Taj Ruler

Than Tibbetts

Tim Hellendrung

Alli Koch

Manda Larson

Jen Scott

Tom Reed AND Troy Zimmerman. PHOTO BOMB!

Thanks to TB Reed for his mad photo/wrangling/explaining skills, and for being birthday mother to Anna and Troy.

Transformation.

2011-02-11T09:45:00.001-08:00

15-year old TB Reed was... well he was something...but thank GOD I met him at 27.

Yet another example of my brother's extreme hilarity.

2011-02-11T09:26:00.001-08:00

Fringe 2011 here we come!

2011-02-08T15:30:00.000-08:00

Soooooooo last night the cast of Zombie High School got into the 2011 Fringe Festival! That means we'll be coming at you with a new show this summer. Will it be Zombie College? Robot Salon? Poop your Pants the musical? Only time will tell.

Watch Berko nervously anticipate the start of last night's lottery.

I could not POSSIBLY be prouder of my brother.

2011-02-03T09:11:00.000-08:00

A special message.

2011-02-02T20:35:00.000-08:00

Click play!

Hello, Iowa!

2011-02-01T09:06:00.000-08:00

Last week I took the bf and bff to Iowa to visit my sissie and brother-in-law and their babe. She quickly bonded with Steph, adorably sometimes referring to her as "Anna", and she remained skeptical of Tom but had a heart-melting 5 minutes cuddling with him in a tent at the library. Look!

Mae is enthralled with Steph's "Loud! Quiet." book.

Please don't judge Tom's ginger soul patch. It's for a play!

On Sunday morning my sissie made blueberry pancakes. Mae proceeded to eat them whilst smearing them all over her face and the table and anyone that touched her. Observe!


That cute ball of blueberry can keep it on her face as long as she wants.

Also, to entertain us, my brother-in-law taught us how to draw! Or rather, gave us some paints, put on Pandora, and let us do our thing. Here is us painting and some of the more memorable gems of the day.


We paint!

Anna's Flower Power.


Tom's Dancing Cactus

Tom's Farting Pac Man

Steph's Thumbs Climbing a Path to Nowhere

Anna's Bulbous Elmo

Steph's Candy Corn Tree


Steph's Anthropomorphic Thumbs

Ok have a nice week bye!

I made dis!

2011-01-27T09:29:00.000-08:00

Happy almost my birthday month!

2011-01-25T13:56:00.000-08:00

In honor of my birthday being a mere 16 days away, I made you a playlist birthed from 6 months worth of Shazammed songs from my iphone. "What does that mean?" a non-iphone owning individual might ask. Well. Shazam is an app that you turn on when you want to identify a song you're listening to. So each of these songs were so amazing, curious, or sentimental to me that I risked my life, likely driving, to look them up as fast as I could so I would never forget them.

I present to you, my Shazam playlist. You will enjoy. That's a threat.

Lounge Podcast Take 1!

2011-01-10T11:12:00.001-08:00

Take a listen. You won't regret it.

New Years Rezzies.

2011-01-10T11:12:00.000-08:00

1. Wake up at the same time every workday.
    Back story: I'm notoriously awful at getting up in the morning. And you know how it is, snoozing can be a slippery slope. Before you know it, you have snoozed for an hour! No more, lassies. No more, kindly gents. I'm taking control of my morning, like a snake takes control of its prey. One snooze per day, 9 minutes before when I wake up, which will be 8:30 every day no matter what. Minus weekends.

2. Eat breakfast every day.
    Back story: I've never done this before! My tum isn't normally too happy when I get up, so my first meal of the day is usually lunch. No more. Breakfast is good for the body. Plus it cures cancer. And gives you long, luxurious hair. And bionic limbs. So...I'm on board.

3. Stop eating after 10 pm.
    Exemptions and back story: Did this last night for the first time. It was ROUGH. Apparently that's how Oprah lost all of her weight back in the day, but I'm amending it to 10 pm instead of 9 pm since I don't go to bed until about 2 am every night. I will allow myself two exemptions. 1. If I haven't eaten dinner before 10 pm then obviously, the rule goes out the door. 2. I get one bite of whatever Tom is eating in front of me because, c'mon.

4. Go to the Y every single day.
    Exemptions and back story: Unless I'm out of town or extremely ill, I will go to the gym every day. I'm one of those people that has to go every day, or it turns into zero days. Did you know I joined the 100 mile club at the Y? Well, I did. That means I will swim a mile every day unless I need a chlorine break because my skin is falling off or my hair is officially green. Then when I reach 100, I get a t-shirt indicating so. Jealous?

5. Throw myself and Troy the best birthday party known to man.
    There's not much I can say here except that it is our Godly duty to show everyone a good time as we ring in our 26th and 28th years of life. It's like we were born to throw this party. Don't believe me? Observe pump up video #1, more to come as we inch closer to that fateful date. http://www.facebook.com/v/486804139716

Ok! Now you know all of my secrets. And it's on paper, signed in my blood, which I just smeared across the computer screen.

Love,
Anna

7 parties. 1 fateful night.

2011-01-03T10:47:00.000-08:00

Here's a top 10 list of things to know if you're going to 7 parties in one night.

1. Plan for parking. Especially if it's a snow emergency. And freezing outside. Because if you aren't patient and aren't willing to park at least 6 blocks away, you're probably going to miss the 8th party (sorry Bleric!).

2. Group your parties by location. Start with the farthest away, then work your way in so you can get to your eventual goal of being on foot only.

3. Someone needs to be sober sister. Consider the people traveling with you in your group. If one of them drunk-slept an entire day and night when you were camping, including when he was tubing down a river, perhaps it's his turn to be sober sister for the first half of your parties.

4. Bundle. The frick. Up. It's cold outside! We're talking scarf over your face, booze in a backpack, don your warmest and least attractive boots, and learn from me ladies. Double up the leggings next time, ok?

5. Spend a good chunk of time at the party with the best food. (You know who you are, party #3. Your spicy chicken bbq dip, your pickles and cream cheese appetizers, your caramel puff corn, your white chocolate dipped oreos, for God sakes!! I'm bringing you a medal, you hear?)

6. If you're going to be a-holes and not stay at parties for very long, at least bring a gift. Our choice beverage was a variety of delicious sparkling juices, because every party has its token kids and/or alcoholics, right? Respect.

7. If you are the non-sober person of the group, I highly suggest no more than 1 drink per party, unless one party was a dud and you needed to double up (obviously). I found that 7ish drinks over 8ish hours was a pretty perfect combination of non-sloppy yet energetic, hilarious, and adorable. According to me.

8. Don't leave your sweater at party #2. That means leaving parties 3 through 7 you'll have to endure the cold inside part of your sleeves rubbing up against your bare arms. Bare arms! C'mon Anna.

9. Make mental notes of hilarious things people say and do so you can recount them the next day via text. Especially when someone whispers cryptic pieces of advice into your ear as he/she gracefully stumbles out of the party (*cough HANNAH, *cough BEST PART OF THE NIGHT).

10. Take pictures with all of the hosts of your parties, so blog readers can believe everything you actually accomplished that night.


My partner in crime.

Party #1, hosted by Dave and Kristin

Party #2, 1920's themed, hosted by the lovely Keira Gatta

Party #3 and winner of best food ever, hosted by Alyson Wise

Party #4, circus themed, by the homemade tutu-ed Ani Loizzo

Party #5, where the ball dropped, hosted by Bokensha x2 and Jessi!

Party #6, hosted by Allison, Marlowe, and my cuddle buddy Professor!

Party #7, hosted (until 4:30 am!) by Lauren and Bobby

And please, let's all have a moment of silence for our fallen party. I'm sorry Bleric.

...................silence...........................

The end. Happy New Year!

T'will be epic.

2011-01-03T09:08:00.000-08:00

Denny Hecker and the Snowdays

2010-12-14T09:49:00.001-08:00

How do you like my new band name? It's a working title, people. We've had one rehearsal which was primarily in order to come up with a band name and to eat spaghetti. More to come on this.

As you know, the sky gods crapped an enormous amount of white stuff on us this weekend. I've been sequestered in my tiny apartment for four days, with three short breaks to go to a movie, go to the Y, and go to the bar (priorities). Normally I would love to hole up in my apartment for this many days in a row, but for a couple of things. First, the last time I was in my apartment this many days in a row was when I had swine flu. Second, being in your apartment for this long really makes you realize how badly you need to clean. Third, my windows are 100% frosted over. As in, there is not even a tiny peephole to the outside world. I tried with all of my might to make myself a peephole yesterday, using my hands, a spatula as a scraper, and a warm washcloth. I had about 15 minutes of blissful clarity in the small hole that I made, then it immediately frosted over. Check it:

To beat the Sunday snowy sads, Troy, Pop and I went to Black Swan which if you haven't seen you have to stop whatever you're doing and go this instant. On the way, Troy just couldn't resist a good snow fall. If you know what I mean...

In other fun news, taking Christmas photos with TB Reed is an adventure. After I think the 4,000th photo we got a good one but it was extremely blurry.

In other news, check out how icy and death-y the back of my house is.

I haven't moved my car in 7 days because I'm nervous of taking it out of its parking spot and I don't even want to deal with the amount of snow on top. Neither of these photos are my car, but they are neighbors' cars and it gets the point across.

In other other news, this is a fellow I trained in San Francisco last week. He and his girlfriend made this jacket, and I want one STAT.

In one more bit of news, I want to tell you that last night I walked home from water aerobics class (yep!) and my hair immediately turned into frozen sticks of ice. Check it:

Until this daggonned snow goes away, I have resigned not to leave the house unless I look like this. Note: TWO scarves. Headphones. Hat. Hair tucked all the way into said hat.

K bye.

I just cannot even stand it.

2010-11-30T15:54:00.001-08:00

Look who I got to hang out with all weekend! Five days of bliss, people. Pure bliss. She's 16 months old, and in her smiley/I love you phase...unless you wake her up from a nap in which case she, like me, becomes a vicious dragon lady.

Password = cutie pants
(in order to protect the little miss from complete randos of course).

Cutest baby on the planet, people. from satellitewalls on Vimeo.

Ireland: Land of wind and cows.

2010-11-09T21:19:00.000-08:00

I spent the last week with two high school friends in Ireland. We started in Dublin, then headed south to Kinsale, then west to Limerick. It was beautiful. Here are pics.

Halloween picture tour!

2010-10-31T20:42:00.000-07:00

I'm heading to Ireland tomorrow (hai-tee-tai-tee-tai!) so I thought I would leave you for a few weeks with a visual record of some fun Halloween festivities.

First and foremost, I present to you the greatest tri-person costume of all time. Hocus Pocus!

Note the Sarah Jessica Parker mop/swiffer:

Here is the amazing Hocus Pocus magical book that Taj recreated out of putty and makeup!

Steph played the role of Bette Midler, and her teeth are only about half the length of her character's, so we worked on her facial expressions throughout the night. Here's a cool shot of her hair, followed by the look we were trying for, followed by a horrible, terrifying iphone shot where she has NO NOSE AND ONLY ONE TOOTH!!!

Now a US Weekly-style "Who wore it better?"

And now, as a special Halloween present for you, the cutest lil' bee you've ever seen. Eeeeee! It's my niece!

Ukulele Fun

2010-10-22T13:42:00.000-07:00

I got the best text message I have ever received earlier this week:

PS a ukulele will arrive at your house on Wednesday.

I am now a proud co-owner of "Ukie", the world's cutest and most Hawaiian ukulele.

I've never played a guitar before in my life. I have no idea how to strum, or play chords, or even hold it. But beef and I downloaded a few chord finder and tuner apps and chose two songs to start with.

Here is my extremely professional and heartfelt version of Hey Jude, dedicated to my sissy:

Here is Tom's haunting rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow:

Plane Karma

2010-10-18T14:15:00.000-07:00

I fly a lot for work. And let me just say that I get easily annoyed whilst doing so.

For example, I flew from Philadelphia to Minneapolis last week and I had to race for my life to get to the gate because of a previous flight that took it's sweet, precious time taking off. Once I finally got to my seat, I took a breather, read a few pages of a book, then when I was allowed to use electronics I started watching Dexter on my phone.

Before I go on, you need to know that I love Dexter. It's the only thing that keeps me sane on airplanes. The moment when I get to flip it on is like ultimate relaxation for me. But Dexter can be...pretty gory. And kind of sexual. So watching it on my phone is the perfect solution for me because the phone is small enough that I can use my hands to block the screen during Dex's brutal murders. Unless, that is, the person next to me is STARING AT MY SCREEN.

That's exactly what happened to me last week. The woman next to me, though she couldn't hear a thing, watched my screen for hours. If I moved it slightly, she would adjust her posture. When I tried to block the screen with my balls of yarn, she would sit higher. I thought about saying something, especially since her watching meant I had to extra-screen the show for violence, but then I thought about something: Plane Karma. I am a firm believer that you have to be a really good passenger and airport patron, otherwise bad things will happen to you.

For example, a man took my window seat on the first flight, and he knew it. I could tell by the guilty look he gave me when I arrived at my seat. Not only did he take the liberty of boarding himself before he was called to ensure that he took my seat, but he didn't even mention it when I got there. I thought about saying something, because I chose that seat specifically and printed my boarding pass a day early to make sure I had that seat, but then I thought again. I fly all the time, I always get window seats, maybe this man NEEDED this seat. Maybe he would die without it. Or maybe he was just a jerk. Either way, I knew that if I gave him this one, it would get returned to me somehow. And me making that Philadelphia flight by about 10 seconds, I really think, was the result of this benevolence.

So back to the Dexter-stealing lady next to me. I thought about saying something to her, but I said to myself, "You know what Anna? You love Dexter. And you're always telling people that they need to watch this show. So even though you're annoyed right now, just think of it this way. Maybe she's so compelled by the show that she'll be a watcher of Dexter from now on. And wouldn't you want that?" So I let her watch for a couple of hours, then when it was time to turn our electronics off, I shook off my annoyance and asked her if she's ever seen Dexter before. It turns out, she hadn't. But she said this: "So, the plot is that there's a guy who kills only bad people, right?" And my mouth...dropped. How could she have gotten that just from the visuals of a couple episodes? "Yes, that's right!" I said. We talked about Dexter for a few more minutes, then the conversation switched topics.

"Hey...do you read?" she asked me. "Yes, I do read. Why?" I asked. Then she took a book out of her bag and said "I'd like to give you this". I looked at the novel she was holding and told her that it's ok, she didn't have to give me the book she was reading. She could just tell me what it was and I'd go check it out myself. "No, no," she said, "I wrote it. And I'd like you to have it." Turns out, this woman is a famous author that has been interviewed on MY public radio station. Exactly one year ago, she probably walked right by my desk! She autographed the book for me saying, "It was so nice to meet you, Anna". She told me that she had just been waiting, flight after flight, to talk to a nice person on a plane that she could give her book to. I'm very thankful I shook off my rage and spoke to this woman, because we ended up talking for a while and I might even babysit her kids.

Here's the moral of the story. Be nice on planes a) because of Plane Karma and b) because you might be sitting next to your new BFF.

This will either make you giggle or puke.

2010-10-07T08:54:00.000-07:00

Ready for a whopping dose of adorable? I give you the top three reasons Tom and Anna are the cutest couple this side of the Mississip'.

1. Bread-staches. A creative use of that middle chunk you get at Erbs and Gerbs.

2. This video.

3. The cutest couple blog (besides TP) known to man.

randomdino.com

BACON COOKIES!

2010-10-04T09:15:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I forgot to tell you this, but listen. Listen to me right now. One of my good friends is a professional chef. She's talented and creative and when I had swine flu last year she brought me homemade chicken soup, cinnamon applesauce, snickerdoodle cookies, and something else really good that I can't remember what it was (probs because of the swine). Luckily for me, she lives a few blocks down the street, and also luckily for me, a couple weeks ago she muttered the two greatest sentences I have ever heard: "We can't go out for sushi because I have to make bacon chocolate chip cookies. Just come over here."

So I went, and was greeted with sushi, pounds and pounds of cooking bacon wafting into my nose holes and sizzling before my very eyes, and my own chopsticks for which to eat said sushi and snag bits of chocolate chip cookie dough, pre, post, and during the cookie baking process. I am a lucky woman, no?

Completely innapropriate hotel room.

2010-09-30T09:39:00.001-07:00

Hi. I'm in LA. I'm staying in a hotel room with a crazy, nonsensical, overly sensual feature. Here, I'll give you a personal tour.

Why? Why? Why is the shower see-through? What if I were sharing the room with a coworker? And no, there is not a curtain that can cover the glass, and no, it does not fog up enough for it to be non-awkward.

Also, this hotel is famous for its swanky rooftop pool and bar. It's called an "endless" pool because the water is level with the floor, so it looks like it goes all the way off of the roof. Cool, right?

Except...here's the thing. NO ONE SWIMS IN IT! They treat it like a decorative water fountain. I mean it's bath water temperature, would be perfect for a night swim, yet it's completely uncool to even approach the water. This baffles me. That just seems so LA. "There is this perfectly good pool to swim in but NO! We will not swim in it! Are you crazy? We're here to party, and wear high heels, and sit in water bed eggs (as seen in photo)." Dumb LA.

Milking cows, trapped kitties, bucking broncos, and dangerously cute kids.

2010-09-27T12:39:00.001-07:00

What I learned at a pumpkin patch in Iowa:

1. How to milk a cow! I'm pretty much a straight professional now. If you ever want any fresh water, straight from the cow's teet, let me know.

2. How to ride a horse.

3. I saw these kittens at the pumpkin patch and immediately wanted to adopt them, but was afraid they might be carrying bird flu or Parkinson's or herpes:

4. I have the cutest niece on the whole entire Earth.

Is this not just a delicious, delicious sound?

2010-09-22T13:38:00.001-07:00

This is my week of concerts. Sunday - Dirty Projectors. Monday - Rogue Wave. Tonight - Arcade Fire. Dirty Projectors were just, well I'll just use a word my friend Troy coined to describe them. They were "eargasmic". And Rogue Wave, though I've had the pleasure of seeing them twice before, was just, well they were a barrel of amazing. They have so many great songs, but every time, no matter what, I just end up being such a sucker for "Lake Michigan". I mean with a two minute drum intro, who can resist?

Please enjoy my iphone's crappy take on said drum intro. Though you can't see much, you can hear everything, and oh the sound my friends. Oh the sound!

Ok I'm going to start mentally preparing myself for Arcade Fire. Can you believe it? I love this city. And by this city I mean Minneapolis/St. Paul. I don't discriminate.

Update!! Arcade Fire was so good my eyeballs fell out of my head then I had to clean them and put them back in. I waited the WHOLE CONCERT for this song and by gum, it came. The finale of the finale. I start uncontrollably dancing in the end so...sorry for the shakiness. Kind of. Ok no I'm not sorry.

Fun with Finnegans!

2010-09-15T11:38:00.001-07:00

Last night the Brave New Workshop kicked off the newest student performance season and to celebrate, they had a party afterward. When Steph (my lover from another mother) got wind of free Finnegans, I blinked and she was at the bar.

She runs for two reasons, she says. Beer, and the bus. That, combined with her "no you didn't" face, is why I love her.

Chameleon Man

2010-09-08T12:31:00.001-07:00

I've done a lot of traveling this summer, mostly for work. As the months went by I became intimate with the likes of San Francisco, Seattle, Austin, Atlanta, Charlotte, and up and down WI and MN. But never, not once, have I come across a lizard impression quite this accurate.

I'm so proud.

Seattle is for scooters.

2010-08-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

I'm in Seattle at a conference for work, and I decided to bring my beef along because he's super fun and we've both never been to Seattle. We've done lots of cool things so far, like hang around Pike Place Market, see TheaterSports, eat delicious food, hang out in our sweet hotel room, etc. But nothing - NOTHING - tops the moment that I walked out of the conference yesterday, peered around looking for Tom, and then saw him at the bottom of a huge set of stairs, standing next to a scooter, holding two helmets.

Let me just tell you that scooters...are...incredible. The wind in your face! The ease of use! Gliding in and out of lanes! Feeling every bump! We drove up the coast to Ballard and around the downtown area and it was pure perfection except for ONE thing. Some of the hills in Seattle are San Francisco-steep and two times, I kid you not, I had to get off the scooter for Tom to be able to get the scooter up the hill. No worries though. You can't get angry on a scooter! I mean c'mon.

We took a break from our glee-fest to take a short video for your pure enjoyment. I encourage you to picture yourself on the scooter with us, having the time of your life. Try not to move too much though because we might tip over, ok?

So proud of us! One show left.

2010-08-11T15:11:00.000-07:00

Zombie High School!

Just so my little bloggy doesn't feel neglected

2010-08-04T16:10:00.000-07:00

Hi!

My life this month has been working 8 hours a day, rehearsing approximately 7-11 on weeknights and for dozens of hours on the weekends (ZHS opens Saturday!), and playing with my new iphone until I fall asleep.

So, in picture form that is this:

this:
and this:

Which leads me to my next point. HOW GREAT IS ANGRY BIRDS? Anyone? Who's with me?

Mama will be back in 2 weeks, shhhhh, don't worry.

Afternoon Delight

2010-07-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

I got a new iphone! Here's an adorable picture of me trying to "download apps" on my first day. One of my favorite apps is called Dragon Dictation. As a person who has spent hundreds of tedious, eyeball-bleeding hours transcribing audio interviews, I appreciate the app's ability to convert my speech into text, and then allow me to email, text, facebook, or tweet the message to a person of my pleasing.

Here's the thing though. Dragon Dictation isn't exactly...accurate. Especially when you sing to it, which of course you would. You're familiar with the 1976 lovable hit "Afternoon Delight" by the Starlight Vocal Band, yes? Or maybe Will Ferrel's a cappella version in Anchorman? Well I serenaded Grape (my iphone) last night and I will provide you with the original lyrics, and then the app's version of what I sang.

Original lyrics:

Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight

gonna grab some afternoon delight

My motto's always been when it's right it's right

Why wait until the middle of a cold dark night

When everything's a little clearer in the light of day

And you know the night is always gonna be there anyway

Dragon Dictation's version of what I sang:

Can you send them baby killers old phone tag

planning grants the master noon be mad

I started doing family that sad it's sad

When I went and seen the man has a cool tag match

Where everything is A-OK in a matter of JE

Thanks Grape! I love you.

Two more songs!

2010-07-19T10:29:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited that I could just pee. Right here.

Preview!

2010-07-16T14:19:00.001-07:00

Last night we learned one of my songs! Here's our first run through.

Troy teaches us how to walk like zombies.

2010-07-15T22:07:00.001-07:00

What did you get on your ZAT's?

2010-07-15T10:00:00.000-07:00

I haven't had much of a life lately, and that's because I have rehearsal five nights a week for three to four hours a night. For what, you say? Great question. My a cappella group wrote a musical. An a cappella musical. About zombies. For the Fringe Festival in August. It's pretty much going to bring the house down.

So here's the sitch. It's called Zombie High School. In the play, the Zombie Apocalypse has come and gone, and now the undead and humans are trying desperately to coexist. A young human student, Maggie Mulligan, decides to brave all obstacles and become an exchange student at a high school for zombies in order to learn more about their culture. However, in the folly of youth, Maggie ends up biting off more than she can chew. RIGHT? Right.

All I can tell you is, I'm Maggie, and you're going to love it. It will literally make you die with joy.

"Zombie High School"
@ Mixed Blood Theater

8/7 5:30 p.m.
8/8 7:00 p.m.
8/9 5:30 p.m.
8/10 10:00 p.m.
8/14 8:30 p.m.

Stop leaving me notes, Minneapolis!

2010-06-28T06:42:00.001-07:00

Three notes. I've gotten three passive aggressive notes in the last month from strangers commenting on my behavior. Three finicky messages, referencing three different forms of my transportation. C'mon people!

1. The first note, slipped under my apartment door, on pink stationary:

"STOP slamming your door. Your door slamming is out of control. You are bothering people on MORE THAN ONE FLOOR. PLEASE. STOP."

To be fair, our carpet was just ripped up in the hallway and as soon as you let the hallway door slip from your hands, it slams on its own. When I'm carrying my bike up and down two floors, gently letting the door close behind me has admittedly not been my #1 priority. After I got the note, I started being much more careful about the doors, but the note seemed like a huge overreaction. As it turned out, it was. A week later, Steph and I were leaving my apartment and we got stopped in the hall by a large, husky man that slowly sauntered into the hallway as soon as he heard us out there. He shuffled toward me with a sly look on his face and said "You the door slammer?" as he held out his hand for a shake. I took his hand and said "No". He stared into my face, not letting go of his firm hold on my hand, and told me that his girlfriend lives here and he's a veteran and when doors slam at night he thinks they're gun shots and it has to stop. I told him I really haven't been slamming doors and I'm hardly ever even at my apartment. "I think it's the girl next to you," he said. "I met her and she seemed nice, but...she's not. She's not nice at all." I told him I didn't think any of us are intentionally slamming doors and that he should probably call our landlord and ask for the carpet to be reinstalled. "Anna - just stop. Stop it. Stop right there," he said. "I'm on your side." And then, just to heap on to the level of creep, he says, "I've been watching you out back in the parking lot. Your hair looks really nice when it's up. You should wear it like that more often." Needless to say, I've been zooming in and out of this house like a squirrel in traffic ever since, never stopping to linger outside.

2. The second, a note precisely written out and delicately taped to the handle of my bicycle, which was parked outside a friend's house during our rehearsal:

"What kind of a person would park a bike in front of someone's sidewalk?"

I'm going to draw a mental picture for you of what was going on here. My friend's house is a duplex that is up on a very small hill, so it has two separate cement walkways that start with a small set of stairs then lead up to each doorway in front of the house. Now, it was later at night so I parked my bike in front of his neighbor's walkway, but didn't think it was a big deal because I knew they had a baby so they probably weren't out late, and anyone could take ONE step to the side to get to the second step. Easy peasy, right? WRONG. Apparently I'm a terrible person. But I mean really. Who leaves a note on a bike? Perplexed, I stood there holding the note for a while, then decided the proper thing to do would be to tape the note back on their first step in order to shame them in the morning when they discovered my bike gone and their anal retentiveness staring them in the face. Shame! Shame on unnecessary note writers!

3. A two-page letter, pages numbered, with a scrap of paper taped to the second page to elongate the message, written in black sharpie and found underneath my windshield wiper. All caps. Location: the one-way street in front of my beef's house.

"Hey! I just wanted to take a minute to thank you for parking here. Seriously, great job. Please park here often. You'd be surprised how many jerkoffs and J-holes park here. No permits, 3 feet from the curb, expired tabs, just a MESS. You, however, are the exception. You keep Fremont going! Thanks! --Fremont Neighborhood Association (FNA) est. 2010"

Well I tell you, my day was MADE. After staring at the note for about five minutes and determining that it wasn't sarcastic, that it was likely from an overly-dorky neighborhood association member who genuinely was thankful that I had a permit and did a good parking job, a calm came over me. It was as if the universe was saying "Hey Anna. Don't even think about those first two notes. This third note is a message for you from Minneapolis, nay, the world, that you are doing a good job here on Earth. From your parking job to your permit-having to frankly being just a great person, I just wanted to say, well, thanks." I drove away with a smile stretched ear to ear thinking that some stranger out there took the time to write me a two-page letter THANKING me for my behavior. I was doing ok.

The next day, with a spring in my step, I remembered that I hadn't told my bf about the note I got in front of his house yet! "Hey - I forgot to tell you what I found on my car the other day!" I said, to which he replied, "Oh, you got my note??"

GREAT.

Happy fats.

2010-06-18T14:47:00.001-07:00

Guess what? Everything's going well in your life, you've got great friends, you've got a boyfriend, work is good, living situation is great, the weather's getting warmer, the dinners are lasting longer, the beer is flowing harder, the gym membership is canceled, you're going to family reunions, hanging out at the lake, the new tires on your bike require less effort, you're seeing movies which require candy, the snacks are flowing like the mighty Mississipi...

BOOM. You've got the happy fats. Or more accurately, I've got the happy fats.

Look, I love my boyfriend. And bless him for being a big fan of me whatever size I am (and for being boy enough not to know the difference) but I've gained ELEVEN POUNDS since I started dating him. I think there might be some element of "letting myself go" but honestly I'm just a happy eater. If I'm even a little lonely or depressed I just don't have an appetite. If I'm happy, it's Anna-delicious-food-eating-fun-time. And then there's the social aspect. You're making dinner for each other, you're grilling out for your friends, you're having lady dates to keep up with your gal pals, and the fun times almost always involve some aspect of food. Doesn't sound too bad right?

But seriously. I had to buy new pants. And shorts. And skirts. And that shit gets expensive! To cut down on the sloppy body I started standing at work, so now I'm one of those weird "standers" whose head rises far above the cubical walls confusing passers-by and coworkers. A dude who shares a cube wall with me and doesn't understand the concept of a standing desk kept trying to order McDonalds from me during my first week of standing. But I'm finding all that standing is doing is making me rock back and forth all the time making my feet kill. So.

I'm not too worried about it - AT THIS POINT. I don't think I've reached whale-status yet, and I'm planning on the weight gain plateauing at, well, at 5 pounds ago, and it's summer so I'll keep biking and eating vegetables and crap but I think in the long run, I prefer happy eats to the rockin' body that comes with somber, foodless stretches of inactivity and lonely nights. Although I suppose I could just become a sad eater too. Yeah! Maybe I'll do that.

Naaaaaaaaaaah. Pass the chimichangas!

I hate Twitter!

2010-05-25T11:21:00.000-07:00

I got Twitter hacked today. I don't even use it. I tweet something stupid maybe once every other month. No, I don't have an obvious password and no, I don't click on weird links from DM's.

Yet, 132 people that I follow got a direct message from me telling them if they're interested, they can get a gas card from [insert spam link here] followed by - and this is the worst part - "I got mine today and I'm *stoked*!!"

People won't stop talking about it and sending me emails about it, and at work our social media editor is sending out a company-wide email warning people about Twitter spam, using ME as an example.

Allow me to express my frustration and sadness via this puppy.

No, it's not throat pornography.

2010-05-18T15:38:00.001-07:00

I just had my final vocal appointment today (YAY!) and I wanted to share my vocal nodule progress with you for the following reasons:

a.) I'm proud of it.
b.) I promised my doc and vocal therapist that I would blog these pictures.
c.) You think they look gross and that makes me giggle.
d.) Because c'mon, how cool is the inside of a body?

It's been a long journey my peeps! Lots of humming and phrasing and practice and rest and missing choir and missing yelling and missing singing loudly but you can see some progress and I promise you in a couple months it will be even better. Less bumpy. Whiter. Closer to normal.

I love my dentist!

2010-05-07T09:34:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of reasons why I love my dentist.

1. The office is conveniently located in my skyway at work. That way I can run full-speed through the halls when I realize I am extremely late.

2. They send me text reminders like 80 times leading up to my appointment which are essential to me actually ever showing up.

3. The staff sends out quarterly newsletters that detail the intricacies of each employee's personal life, as in who is taking yoga classes, who has children starting to drive, who is taking exotic vacations, etc., and they include photos of their staff picnic. Which is adorbs.

4. My dentist plays pranks on me. For example, I once had a cavity and he sat me down and very gravely explained that the only option to save my mouth was to install a grill over the front of my teeth. "We're going to need you to bling it up," he said. The nurse added that it has to be diamond-studded.

5. They just upgraded to this awesome prize pack after every appointment! For freesies!

Just look at that blushing bride!

2010-05-03T11:33:00.001-07:00

I don't know if you've heard the news, but my fellow lady-pirate is officially betrothed! I think it's your job and mine to prepare her for her impending nuptials by offering her nothing but the finest choices in wedding wear. Let us take her on a visual tour of the possibilities, shall we?

My new mac book pro arrived!

2010-04-19T09:34:00.001-07:00

My new Mac Book Pro is officially here! She traveled all the way from Shanghai, that sassy beast. Look at how beautiful she is. I have been waiting for this moment to come since I read on mac rumors that the new Mac Book Pros were released last Tuesday. An update long overdue, mind you. The last time I bought a mac was December of 2004. That's a LONG time ago, and a long life for a mac. Now it's time for one that will actually house all of my music, allow me to stream videos and instant Netflix online, let me video skype with my niece, and - gasp - edit video and audio!

It's going to be REALLY hard to concentrate at work today.

Lunch of champs!

2010-04-16T10:14:00.000-07:00

Meet Lounge.

2010-04-14T13:22:00.000-07:00

I'm just going to come out and say this. I'm dating a part-time improvisational lounge singer.

He's Lounge-asaurus Rex. He hosts events, performs at shows, and creeps audiences out far and wide. I first saw him from a distance. I was a shy audience member, dazzled by his chunky, jeweled rings and flaming red collar that stretches for miles. His slicked-back hair and proudly-displayed chest is enough to make any girl blush. His tight pants and female sunglasses elicit some sort of hipster/hippie/night fever combination of terrifying-yet-awesome.

This weekend we were on a 15-hour car trip and he was feeling loungy and I was feeling radio reportery so I whipped out my digital recorder and asked the man, nay, the legend, a few questions. If you're lucky, you might even hear him sing a little ditty for you. But be careful...your ears might bleed from too much sexy.

Listen here .

I'm proud to introduce to you...Lounge-asaurus Rex. The man. The myth. The witty banter machine.

If only I had moves like this.

2010-04-05T16:22:00.000-07:00

Will you just look at that one-handed air-keyboard player go?

I read a mind this week!

2010-04-01T11:12:00.000-07:00

I was in my improv class on Tuesday and something incredible happened.

We were doing a montage of two-person scenes and my character was upset with my friend Drew's character for standing on her lawn. He was playing a sort of weird, perhaps drunk hobo-type guy. We're working on integrating more specific detail into our scenes so, for example, if you're saying something like "Can't you remember what kind of car you have?" we would say "Can't you remember that you have a yellow Thunderbird GT?". We're also working on naming people and sticking to those names throughout a scene.

I needed a name for my character's family land as her anger for his being on her lawn was heightening, so I quickly racked my brains and came out with this: "How dare you defile the Torkilson estate!" Now, I'm not sure where that name came from because I don't think I've ever heard it before, but before I could even think about it it just came out of my mouth, and I referenced the name a few more times in the scene then we continued with the montage.

After our montage, we all sat down to go through notes with our teacher. He mentioned that he liked the specifics of the names in our lawn scene, and Drew tells us that it was a really weird scene for him because when he entered the scene, he had an image of his friend Bobby Torkilson in his head, and was loosely modeling his character after him. While he was playing his character, he kept thinking "Bobby Torkilson. Bobby Torkilson." and then when I blurted out that last name, he was stunned.

WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How? How? How? How? Why? How?!?! How did that happen!?

Muddy ride into work today.

2010-04-01T09:03:00.001-07:00

Oh so THAT'S why I sound like a man.

2010-03-30T13:21:00.000-07:00

Freddie Mercury. Bette Middler. Rod Stewart. Justin Timberlake. Whitney Houston. Robert Plant. Julie Andrews. Annie Lennox. Madonna. Nathan Lane. Joni Mitchell.

What do all of these awesome people have in common? Herpes.

Just kidding! But at some point in their lives they have all developed a condition called vocal nodules likely due to the strain they put on their vocal chords from their acting and singing careers. Basically, we're taking about a mass of tissue growing in the middle of each of vocal chord, preventing the normal airflow that it takes to create a clear, unobstructed sound.

Thus the person with the vocal nodules is sporting a not-so-sexy hoarse and painful voice that frequently breaks like a pre-pubescent boy and has trouble sustaining long notes or projecting over ambient noise.

Now I'm not a professional singer or actor, but I sure got 'em. I invite you to take a gander at the current state of my vocal chords and then I'll teach you more. These pictures were taken a couple of weeks ago. Say hi to my chords!

When you are not talking, your chords stay open like the second picture. When you talk or sing or clear your throat or hum, the folds flap open and closed like the wings of a hummigbird, and that vibration is how we make noise. The problem with vocal nodules (or nodes, as they are often referred to) is that when you are making noise and your vocal chords are flapping open and closed (at practically a supersonic rate that can only be detected by slow motion scope cameras), those bumps are slamming against each other. That means it's almost impossible for them to heal.

See in the first picture how there are air pockets on top of and below that nodes? That means there is extra air escaping when I talk, which explains why I have a breathy, smoker's man-voice. And since that extra air is escaping when I hold out notes, that's why I run out of breath much faster than those around me when I'm saying a long sentence or trying to sustain a note.

Ok - so why did this happen? Well it's hard to tell. But I know it started months and months ago, if not years. And I know that I'm in two choirs, taking improv classes, and on nine nights out of 10 I'm at concerts, comedy shows, in bars or restaurants, or chatting with friends pretty much up until I go to sleep. Plus (and I know this is all no one's fault but mine) I'm kind of prone to loud-talking, over-talking and yes, yelling at times. Now any one of those things could be enough strain on your voice to give you nodules, but all of them together? That's a big fat recipe for nothin' but nodules.

The game plan: Well, in some awful cases of the infliction, surgery is required. But you can tell from the pictures that mine aren't gigantic, and since I'm only 25 I can try to fix this stuff now before it worsens. After my initial ENT appointment where I got diagnosed, the doctor and vocal therapist prescribed eight weeks of vocal therapy and training, which aims to heal the voice I've got and to reteach me how to speak in a way that is much kinder to my chords.

And let me tell you, it is supremely difficult. Reteaching yourself how to talk feels like, I don't know, like reteaching yourself how to walk if you couldn't feel your legs. I think about every word that comes out of my mouth. In therapy, we start with one letter at a time and learn how to use words that start with that letter in a higher register, with more breath being released, and even holding my head in a different place. Through physical therapy we are literally trying to coax my voice box down to a better place in my neck (how alien is that?).

Anyway. I'm not dying! I'm not even sick. It's just...work. And I quit choir. And I'm trying to stop being such a loudmouth and learn how to be a better listener, not just because it's better for other people but literally if I don't stop using my voice so much, there might not be any voice left for me to use.

Plus, if Miley Cirus can get rid of her vocal nodules, then I really should be able to do the same. Party in the USA, guys, right? Party in the USA.

I have the cutest niece on the whole entire planet.

2010-03-25T14:35:00.000-07:00

Besides the fact that she's teething and wants to shove your fingers into her mouth and then bite them with her alarmingly sharp bottom two teeth and massive jaw strength...

Besides the fact that she is 8 months old and thus experiencing separation anxiety and shies away at anyone's touch and starts screaming when anyone besides her mom or occasionally her dad tries to hold her...

Besides the fact that just this week she reached an age in which she's old enough to know when she's in the car and thus scream and bawl because she hates being in the car seat...

And besides the fact that we were traveling from Berkeley to Yosemite which is 3+ hours (each way) of oftentimes maddening infant cries and bursts of frustration...

I have to ask you, HOW CUTE IS MY NEW NIECE?!?!?!

Do not foot race on a first date.

2010-02-22T09:46:00.000-08:00

So there's this guy I've been seeing. He's just, well, he's great. But after a little while we hadn't really gone on an official "I'm wearing makeup" date yet, so we decided to plan and execute a hot date.

There's this thing though. We're pretty awkward.

We don't feel awkward or embarrassed around each other, and I have to say he's definitely the smooth one of the two of us, but we're two pale, gangling, freckly kids, and that can make for situations that would make an onlooker just cringe. Like this one.

We were leaving a movie theater last night and on a whim decided to have a footrace in the parking lot because, well first off, why wouldn't you? And secondly, we were both fairly confident that we were going to be the winner. Tensions and expectations were high as we addressed the boundary points and started stretching. He expressed concern over my attire (converse chuck taylors, tights, and a jean skirt) but I laughed him off, saying it was only going to help my speed and accuracy.

Taking our marks, I came up with the secret and brilliant plan to start running on the count of 2 instead of 3, giving myself a 1-second advantage, delightfully taking him off guard, winning the race, and then adorably denying that I cheated as we playfully punch each other and then start making out in the middle of the parking lot and thinking about how great we are together.

Oh how I wish that's the way it went down. Oh sweet god's of time past, why can you not make that be what happened?

Instead, I took off a second early and my giant, sprawling torso and over-sized head went much, much faster than my slow legs and slipping feet went and I lost my footing, almost falling over, catching my balance, starting the all-out sprint again and then losing my footing and falling straight to the ground in a loud slap, then sliding on the concrete a few feet while he yelled "NOOOOOOO!" behind me.

The damage? My entire left side is covered in road salt and gravel. My tights are ripped open at the knee and I'm checking for blood. He tries to help me stand up, but the combined force of two awkward, embarrassed, panicking bodies stumble not once, but twice, on the way back up to standing, almost falling two more times. I hysterically laugh at myself, humiliated, as his concern grows for any potential wounds I may have gotten from the scratchy gravel parking lot. I peer over at any potential onlookers, thinking that witnessing an event of this magnitude would be one of the biggest gifts of hilarity that I could give a stranger. Only the KSTP camera man and reporter 20 feet away from us could have seen the fall but if they did, they turned their heads away in disgust.

In the car, mortified, I ask him if he's still attracted to me after that atrocity of unparalleled depths, and he dutifully lies, saying he's even more attracted to me if that's possible.

Back at my apartment Dr. New Manfriend cleans and bandages a bloody, rectangular wound on my knee, and as I reflect on one of the most awkward situations of my life, I balance my crushing shame with my swooning new crush.

We will footrace again. And perhaps I will win. I can't imagine my chances are all that good though as we have mandated an official uniform for me of running shoes, socks, elbowpads, knee pads, a helmet, wrist guards, and snowpants.

But I will try. Oh I will try.

I'm really, really good at making lunch.

2010-02-19T10:36:00.001-08:00

Goo!

Gleee!

Haroom!

Aoogaaoooga!

Blaaaard!

Ooooo baby!

Bleeeeeeeep!

Surbleeburblee!

Yummer City!

Yoweezowee!

Loopsiedoopsie!

Yammers!

Healthorama!

Blitzenburpen!

Deliciousnacity!

Cheeseorama!

Hey-o!

Featuring: banana, peanut butter, pretzels, blackberries, wrap, grapes, strawberries, avocado, pepper jack cheese, summer sausage, apple, pickles, string cheese, rice cake, salami, lettuce, blueberries, baked cheetos, luna bar, mac and cheese, cheese curds, cucumbers, carrots, peppers, hummus, pasta salad, olive bread, broccoli, cauliflower, melon, olives, peaches, cheddar cheese, granola bar, cinnamon apple sauce, crackers, butternut squash soup, provolone cheese, mint brownie, raspberries, cottage cheese.

I didn't say it was healthy. But nothing short of delicious...

Not cool winter. Not cool.

2010-02-19T10:20:00.001-08:00

The other day to be able to drive my car not only did I have to scrape off every inch of outside window, but every inch of INSIDE window too. How is that fair?

My first commentary!

2010-02-16T12:30:00.001-08:00

Last week, the host of the show I work on was out of town so another producer and I took the show hostage and made it ourselves. The theme is "Living without...".

I put together an audio commentary on this theme, sitting cross-legged on my apartment floor. It appears in the podcast at 15:30. If you're eyeballing the play bar, that means you can hear it at a shade earlier than the halfway point. Enjoy!

(Plus, you'll get to hear me talk about taking my pants off. So. You're welc.)

I can't not share this picture with you.

2010-02-16T09:27:00.000-08:00

It started with me (arm with puppy temporary tattoo) throwing M&M's into Josh's mouth. It moved on to Skittles. It moved on to fun-sized Snickers bars. And it ended in the glorious culmination of a fist-full of nerds. Straight into his face. Yay Valentines Day!

Here I shall sing for you.

2010-02-08T08:28:00.000-08:00

Drunk-cooking not advisable.

2010-02-02T11:16:00.000-08:00

Come along with me, to a snapshot of my life:

It's 2:30 am on a Monday night. (Yes, I know, technically it's a Tuesday morning but shh I'm telling a story.) A 24-year-old girl shuffles home from the bar, up three flights of stairs to her apartment, and smiles as she gazes dreamily upon a stew that has been dutifully crock potting itself for the last six hours. If she can depend on nothing else, my good people, she can depend on this delectable vat of turkey chowder.

She feels a little cloudy-headed as one in her situation would, and is mightily amused and distracted by her phone buzzing with messages from her sentimental pals with the desire to giggle and delight over the antics of the evening. She boils some water, throws some egg noodles in, and starts transferring the stew to a hefty 3-gallon pot.

The noodles finish! She stirs them into the potato/corn/turkey/carrot concoction and tells herself that this stew is one step away from perfection...and that step is named "a generous dash lemon pepper". She shakes the lemon pep over the top of the stew - but wait! - something is amiss. She immediately feels confused about the texture and look of the ingredient. Upon closer inspection, she realizes that she has just covered her stew in...CINNAMON!

And instead of scraping the cinnamon off and salvaging the taste of the soup, she, in her unreasonable state, stirs it in. All the way in. Thus dooming her future sober self to roughly two gallons of cinnamon-flavored turkey chowder.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Let's talk doppelgangers.

2010-02-01T15:40:00.001-08:00

I just have to say that I am fascinated by all of this doppelganger business! People posting pictures of their friends, significant others, their old selves, celebrities...all people they think they look like. It is just supremely interesting to me how people really see themselves physically.

Recently, a friend of mine had to get her photos taken for work and out of maybe 30 or so, her roommate and I picked the same photo as our favorite and the one we thought looked most like her. But the one she picked I have to tell you looked absolutely nothing like her and I don't think it showed how truly beautiful she is at all. The one we picked, to me, looked like a model shot.

Why do we see ourselves so differently than other people see us? And why do some people historically look fantastic in photos and others can't take a good picture to save their lives?

I was nervous to jump on the celebrity doppelganger bandwagon because for the last two weeks I've seen people post photos of celebrities that are a thousand times hotter than them and I did not want that to be the case with me.

So I put it to my coworkers to pick one for me, and this is what they came up with. A young Catherine Keener. I wouldn't say that I'm sold on the resemblance, but at least it's not Pippi Longstocking or Punky Brewster, which is honestly what I was expecting.

Too soon? Sorry, Haiti.

2010-01-25T12:26:00.000-08:00

When disaster strikes, there are lots of celebrity artists that want to step up and help.

Even at Minnesota Public Radio!

Listen: Haiti Relief Song

10 artists. 1 (un)clear message. 2 female pop star impressions by your favorite blogging public radio employee.

Allow me to serenade you.

2010-01-04T09:15:00.000-08:00

For the record, my a cappella group has been together far longer than Glee or the Sing Off ever existed.

Moving on.

Last night we had a little recording session and one of the songs is a Rilo Kiley ditty that I sing the solo in. Please enjoy.

Download or play: Breakin' Up (Rilo Kiley) by Late Night Menu.

And just to prove to you that I actually can successfully rap at times without making a complete fool of myself, last night we also recorded that Duffy song that I embarrassed myself with during our last performance.

Download or play: the sweet rap part of Mercy (Duffy) by Late Night Menu.

Ok. Happy day to you! Seacrest out.

Happy Holidays, my babies!

2009-12-17T08:59:00.001-08:00

I'm not gonna lie oh readers, I've been feeling pretty festive lately. I decided to put together a little jazzy holiday mix to thank you for your sweet sweetness over the two and a half years I have been regaling you with the minutia of my life.

Thanks ever so much, and best wishes for a happy holiday season.

(give her a minute to load up, she's a big one)

Or, listen on Grooveshark here.

Woot for small hands!

2009-12-10T15:43:00.000-08:00

A coworker crocheted these gloves but they ended up being too small for her. My freakishly long and skinny hands luckily fit them, well, like a glove.

Oh feeble typing hands you shall be chilled no more. Come warmth!

(Though in a weird way I feel like Madonna meets your grandma meets an Easter egg.)

My pics for the Current's "Top 89".

2009-12-07T15:34:00.000-08:00

Cage The Elephant: Ain't No Rest for the Wicked (Cage The Elephant)
Bon Iver: Brackett, WI (Dark Was The Night)
Brother Ali: Good Lord (The Truth Is Here)
Camera Obscura: Honey in the Sun (My Maudlin Career)
Dirty Projectors and David Byrne: Knotty Pine (Dark Was The Night)
The Bird And The Bee: My Love (Ray Guns Are Not Just The Future)
Ben Kweller: Sawdust Man (Changing Horses)
Alexi Murdoch: Towards The Sun (Away We Go Soundtrack)
Grizzly Bear: Two Weeks (Veckatimest)
The Big Pink: Velvet (A Brief History Of Love)

You can listen to a playlist I have made of these songs here:

Or if you don't like the widget, you can listen here.

We've got a code 70 on isle 6.

2009-12-07T14:46:00.001-08:00

I just witnessed an attempted shoplifting!

I was in Walgreens. Just a regular day at Walgreens, right? I was checking out at the pharmacy department, picking up a prescription and some gum. Classic Walgreens purchase, right? RIGHT?

Then, all of the sudden, the employee that was checking me out calmly but fast like lightening picks up the telephone receiver and says over the loudspeaker "We've got a code 70 on isle 6. I repeat, code 70 on isle 6." I spin around to see 4 blue-vested employees speed-walking toward isle 6 from all angles of the store.

My vision is blocked, but I hear a slight scuffle. Next thing I know, an armload of goods is slammed down on the counter next to me. One of the vested speed-walkers brushes the bangs from her face and says "he had quite the night planned, didn't he?"

I looked over to see what the man had attempted to shove inside his coat: Not, one, not two, but EIGHT two-packs of single-shot energy drinks, and what else? You guessed it. A bottle of lube.

White girl can't rap.

2009-12-01T15:15:00.001-08:00

I recently joined a small vocal ensemble and last week was my first performance with the group. The song we performed is Mercy by Duffy and it would be accurate to describe my role in this song as one of the "yeah yeah yeah" girls, with one exception. Halfway through the song there is a vocal percussion breakdown where every member of the group except the soloist and myself repeat different vocal beats, thus denoting the breakdown. My part includes 8 bars of rapping. That's right. Rapping. Having a little experience in the karaoke Gangsta's Paradise realm, I wasn't really nervous or anything until I realized that the audience we were performing for was about 100 students from the Black Student Union at the University, and maybe a handful of others (mostly consisting of our out-of-place ultra-white group)*. So the first stanza of my ridiculously non-sensical rap goes like this:

You look at me and think we're the same kind
'Cause you don't know what I got and
I want a bit more than I'm asking for
but I just don't want to waste my time

Pretty easy right? Theoretically. But for a rowdy theater full of yelling, snapping, clapping, boisterous college kids, they were essentially silent when we got up there. The lights were blinding, the mood was one of full-on skepticism. From them, it was probably skepticism over "who the hell are these kids coming to our show to perform in a format we're not used to", and from us, it was skepticism over whether we would perform well, mess up, be accepted, etc. Most of my group was calm and ready to rock. But something came over me when it was almost time for me to rap. I locked up and I got so worried about forgetting the words that this, to my horror, is what came out of my mouth:

You look at me and think we're the same kind
'Cause you don't know what I got and
I want a bit flim flattadata dat
bada blip blop bee boop dip dap dap

I finished the stupid rap unable to look anyone in the audience in the eyes, which meant, since it was stadium seating, that I had to stare at the floor until the song was over. I would like to think I can rap...but scat-rapping is not something I hope I never have to face doing again.

*Truth be told, one of us is 1/18 Hawaiian. That counts towards diversity, right?

Naming a band is difficult.

2009-11-16T13:13:00.000-08:00

If you want to hear what it sounds like when a rowdy and ridiculously unproductive a cappella group tries to come up with a new name, one of our members secretly taped our discussion last night. THIRTY-EIGHT MINUTES WORTH OF IT.

The discussion features poop, farting, wikipedia, Garrision Keillor, Suri Cruz, noisy neighbors, and a stranger named Pam.

Listen: Kill me now.

p.s. I didn't mean to do a deaf voice when doing an impression of the "Noisy Neighbors". It just came out, ok?

And no. We never came up with a name.

Here! Let me sing for you.

2009-11-03T14:49:00.000-08:00

One of my colleagues frequently writes song parodies for his podcast and sometimes he requests my inner diva to assist him. This one is a combination of a song from A Chorus Line and the swine flu vaccine. (It's short, just 40 seconds.)

He sings one chorus and then my diva is unleashed. Enjoy!

Listen: I hope I get it.

And no it didn't take 12 attempts to get this version.........*cough.

Slow Motion Sneezing.

2009-10-28T14:25:00.000-07:00

Ok I probably wouldn't have gotten swine flu if more people would have watched this video. Although I was reflecting today that because of this "coughing into your elbow" thing that everyone's supposed to be doing now, people who are recovering like me must have some pretty gross and infections inner-elbows on our sweaters and shirts. Hopefully no one grabs my arm if they need me or something, otherwise they're going to get a handful of disease.

Anyway, enjoy this masterpiece. Don't you think it's kind of...beautiful, in a way?

Shhhhh. Secrets.

2009-10-27T12:47:00.000-07:00

I was pulled into an audio booth the other day to help reporter Euan Kerr voice some stuff for his Post Secret story. My secrets talk about racism, God, and hotel rooms. Enjoy!

Triplets from Hell.

2009-10-19T14:23:00.000-07:00

It was a fantastic Zombie Pub Crawl this year. On October 10, between 5,000 and 6,000 zombies took over the West Bank of Minneapolis, and I have to say, we won the award for cutest costume. Ladies and gentlemen I present to you, in full blood-soaked onesies...the Triplets from Hell.

Our mom and dad turned us into zombies in the middle of the night, so we ate them.

I have been swined.

2009-10-19T14:08:00.001-07:00

Well. It got me, folks. The swine reared its ugly head and I was quarantined in my studio apartment for four entire days, without the slightest bit of human interaction. The following was my life for four days.

Note: Graphic.

Wake up to a bloody nose. Shove some Kleenex up my nostril. Clean the inside of my mouth/face of whatever collected in there throughout the night of incomplete sleep, tossing, turning, coughing, and fever dreams. Check my temperature. Put on 10 pounds of clothes if I'm frigid or strip down to shorts and tank top if I'm burning. Amble over to the couch. Put on endless episodes of either Lost or How I Met Your Mother. Groan. Cough. Take some Robitussin. Take some Aspirin. At about 3 or 4 p.m. realize that I haven't eaten or drank anything all day. Sip some water and choke down a little bit of soup. Get another bloody nose. Take care of said bloody nose. Check my temperature. Nap for 45 minutes. Wake up covered in sweat. Go back to the couch. Watch more Lost/HIMYM. Participate in a sterile mail-room exchange of goods from a friend. Wave meekly at friend through window and mouth the words "thank you so much". Collect your items from the floor of the mail room. Go back upstairs. Eat and/or drink a little. Take some more meds. Watch more episodes. Try to brush teeth. Crawl back into bed. Get into a coughing fit whilst lying there trying to fall asleep. Get one more bloodly nose. Sleep. Repeat.

Please try not to get H1N1 people. And if you do, bite the bullet and quarantine yourself like I did. I promise after a few days it starts to feel normal not to be part of civilization...like you have your own sickly little hobbit hole. And when your gone, perhaps your coworkers will give you a shoutout at the end of their podcast:

Secondhand Storytime.

2009-09-29T14:32:00.000-07:00

I heard an amazing, shocking and hilarious story from a friend, who heard it from a friend, who heard it from a friend's friend.

At work, I relayed the story to my colleague and he suggested I submit it to a cool podcast called Secondhand Storytime and as it turns out, they recorded my story and the episode aired this week. Let me tell you...based on the responses I've gotten from people much smarter than me...I learned a powerful lesson about hearing things through the grapevine.

Here's the podcast.

Sorry Douglas Adams! I didn't mean to swipe your story. And technically, I did hear it secondhand.

It's gonna be a good fall.

2009-09-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

I'm coming up on quite the musical fall with being in two vocal groups and spending way more money than I'm worth on upcoming concerts. (And these are not to discredit the awesome Donkeys/Magnolia Electric Co., Parlour Suite, Phoenix, Decemberists, and Gospel Gossip shows that have entertained and delighted me this summer.)

September:

October:

December:

(And shhhhh don't tell anyone - it's not for me - it's for a friend - I swear - shut up) Next weekend:

A culinary tour of Portie Pants.

2009-09-08T18:40:00.001-07:00

First, a warning: This post will make you hungry. Second, what you need to know: the lady pirates of Truth Pirates decided to attend the infamous Truth Pirates convention located in Portland, OR (the land of plentiful eats) this weekend. Here are some pictures of what we ate to make your mouth jealous. Enjoy!

An ode to Yim.

2009-08-31T10:26:00.001-07:00

Weddings.

Family fun for everyone. Right? I learned some things from my wedding season this year, which will be coming to a close in just a few weeks. First, make friends with the family. On both sides. Weddings are family affairs so if you're not in with the fam, you may as well just keep quiet and put your people-watching glasses on because you're in for a long night. Second, bring a good date. If it's not someone you can make lovey dovey eyes with on the dance floor during slow, country songs, then pick the next best thing - a funny friend.

Enter..........Yim! Possibly the world's best choice for a wedding date. Yim drove all the way to MN from Iowa to spend the weekend as my +1, giving up some of the last few precious days he had to spend with his girlfriend before they embark on the ever-awesome long distance relationship train. Once he got to MN, we drove four hours up north in fairly horrific traffic. He accompanied me not only to the rehearsal, groom's dinner, wedding, and reception, but he and I also had the great honor of entertaining the groom on his last night of freedom. It was basically two and a half straight days of wedding fun, rarely a dull moment, and many a stream of tears falling from my face out of laughter.

Also, whereas I am weak and delicate like a princess, he's strong and burly like a mule or pack horse. Observe the photographic evidence:

To entertain ourselves and the people who had the great fortune of receiving our calls that night, Yim and I invented a game wherein we meld our minds together and speak the exact same words at the exact same time. Sad you didn't get a call? No worries. Yim and I called my phone so we could delight in hearing ourselves the next day. It mostly resulted in what sounds like him screaming into the phone and me yelping with glee in the background...but you get the picture. Observe:

Dowload our wedding trick audio file.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend, with highlights including being upgraded to a suite, Yim sleeping in a real life murphy bed, taking the groom out for his last night, going on a rogue morning canoe ride, finding the lake entrance to Narnia, creating the best wedding game ever, and piling our plates with more meatballs and turkey and rolls and salad and carrots than should ever be consumed by any one human being. Oh, and the beer. The beer flowed like wine.

Thanks Yim!

I love the state fair!

2009-08-31T10:23:00.000-07:00

*illustrations by Julia

Why don't I live in Boulder?

2009-08-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

Muddy waters.

2009-08-12T12:32:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I discovered the wonderment that is a mud pit.

I'm totally late on the band wagon to this one, but Minneapolis has a hidden beach that boasts a fully-fledged mud pit around the corner from the beach, and holy bajeebus is it muddy. My friend (let's call him T-bot) and I first started exploring the pit by delicately dipping our toes in the gooey, chilly mess. A few minutes later, we had rubbed it all over ourselves and were delighting in the stickiness of the clumps of dirt we would pick up from the bottom of the pit and fling at the sides.

T-bot was braver than I, as he took two gigantic glops of dripping mud and rubbed them all over his face and beard. I was a little more ladylike about it. But we learned a lot that day about how to have fun in a mud pit. So as a special present to you, I give you Anna and T-bot's top 10 list of ways to have fun in a mud pit!

10. Just get in it.
9. Explore all parts of the pit.
8. Cover your entire body in mud.
7. Make sure to get any spots that your friend may have missed.
6. Hold out your arms and say "wraaaaaa!" when you see little kids.
5. If you get some mud in your eye, well, good luck.
4. Muddy up a makeshift slide on the side of the pit. Slide down.
3. Try not to think too hard about what may be inside the mud pit.
2. Probably just don't smell anything in the mud pit.
1. Place large glops of mud in each of your right hands. Pull your right hands way behind your head and up high into the air. Give each other a gigantic, forceful high five. Let the mud, in all its splendorous glory, splatter all over your faces.*

*you best close your eyes for this one

Where did the summer go?

2009-08-09T14:09:00.000-07:00

I was just looking at my calendar from now until October, and this is what the rest of my summer will consist of: Wedding, wedding, Denver, Portland, cabin, wedding, camping. I have nary a weekend left where I will be in town.

To me, though daunting, this seems like a good list. I'll be cooped up in this teeny apartment trying to keep warm all snowy winter long so I need to go out and explore and go on adventures while I can.

That being said, the fourth thing on my list means there may or not be a Liveblogging Truth Pirates sleepover version 2.0 in a few weeks...........

You're welc!

Horrifying sight found at Lake of the Isles.

2009-07-26T10:26:00.001-07:00

My niece.

2009-07-21T13:23:00.000-07:00

At one week old she smiles...even in the face of danger.

Baby-crazy auntie.

2009-07-17T14:11:00.001-07:00

As you'll recall, I've been waiting a long time for my sister's baby to be born. But as of exactly one week ago she's finally here!

Just look at her. Little Maya will cute the pants off anyone trying to be cute. Just look at that little tree hugger. She's an infant and she already loves the environment.

So as her favorite aunt, I definitely have responsibilities. I'm flying to see her tonight and I have a suitcase stocked full of things for her that I am now going to force you to oooo and aaah over. But each of these things has a reason behind them because it's my master plan to shape her into a perfect being. Observe.

1. Pretty pink girl dresses. My sister is a huge tom boy, and so is my brother-in-law, obviously. Someone's got to help the little lassie look like the pretty princess that she is.

2. A boy tank top of an alien flying to mars. Did I tell you Maya is going to grow up to be an astronaut? Well, she is. Because of me. And because of this shirt.

3. An actual infant-sized rash guard. You know, a rash guard, to prevent surfers from getting board rash. They're normally made for adults. But Maya will pretty much be a surfer by next year knowing her parents.

4. This stuffed animal, so that she may appreciate people of all different forms of beauty, and learn that even though she's really pretty herself, uggos can be fun too.

5. The world's cutest onsie.

6. And then, of course, I want her to be brilliant and love books like her auntie and uncles and mom and dad, so I picked her out these, which perfectly suit the personalities of her mom and dad.

7. And every baby needs a blanket. I dropped the ball on my plan for knitting something for her so instead I got her the softest, monkiest blanket I could find.

I hope she loves me.

Tilt shift from Afghanistan!

2009-07-14T09:52:00.001-07:00

I've been lucky enough to communicate lots with my friend who is stationed in Kandahar as an engineer in the Air Force right now. For some reason I kind of expected him to drop off the face of the earth until he comes back in October, but awesomely enough he has been totally present - sending us pictures, responding to emails within hours, and facebooking like a fiend.

His philosophy on taking pictures is that if he takes enough, there will be a few good ones here and there. Maybe I'm way behind the curve on this one, but sometimes he puts a tilt shift effect on his photos that makes everything look like a miniature model. It makes me feel like he's really in the Mr. Rogers Air Force, not, you know, the American one.

The pictures are of downtown Kabul, my friend says. Typical mud, brick, and mortar construction.

So I am now inspired to show you my street, if it were made of toys.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand a tilt shift photo of Falcor highly enjoying his back rub, just for you.

Pure glee.

2009-07-09T13:02:00.000-07:00

There are no words.

Well, maybe two: You're welcome.

Don't die Mark!

2009-07-08T11:30:00.000-07:00

Oh my gosh you guys. You'll never believe what's happened to Mark.

You remember Mark, my hosta? Here is a picture of him when he was born. But now, he's down to 3 leaves. THREE. LEAVES. At first I thought he perhaps had Hosta Virus X or Tobacco Rattle Virus, but why would he get those? He lives in my apartment.

Then, I did a little research through the extension service and it turns out he is sunscalded! In a stupid effort to try to revive the little guy back into life this week I moved him from my bookshelf to right in front of the window so he could soak up more rays. But strangely, all of the leaves moved to the edge of the pot furthest away from the window by this morning, and I didn't think anything of it. Turns out the leaves are trying to run away! They, like me, need total shade to survive. I mean if I have to wear sweatproof 70+ SPF sunscreen if I'm near the slightest bit of sunshine, these little guys must be getting completely fried.

Don't worry I will rescue him tonight. I will hide him under the bed or something. He will live. Mark must survive!

Therapy dog trading cards.

2009-07-07T13:35:00.000-07:00

One of the best presents I've ever gotten was stealthily slipped into the front pocket my audio equipment bag. You can imagine the joy I felt when I reached my hand into the pocket and pulled out these gems.

Sasha is a working dog from Siberia, and this is her trading card. When you pet, touch, and talk to her, it helps reduce your blood pressure, relieve stress, and ease your depression.

Additionally, Sasha is a quiet lover who enjoys a great pet and long walks. Winter is her time, as she loves a good blizzard.

Therapy dogs don't just grow on trees. I obviously have a secret admirer!