Stuck Between Decades

This is my life or how Caitlin ended up missing a shift at work (with barium in her stomach!) & all in one day?

2011-07-06T20:04:00.000-04:00

I missed my shift today at work. And I was hosting a party. And I'd been complaining days earlier to everyone in existence about how I don't get enough hours at work. I also had a barium swallow for stomach pain. All in all, it's been a productive day.

I'm just gonna go over here and stare at a pretty picture of flowers. It should calm me down.

Nice petals.

P.S And the USA women's soccer team lost against Sweden. What the frickety frik?!

Over the Rhine in This Place Matters competition

2011-06-21T13:24:00.017-04:00

I haven't been on here in a while. But I thought I'd post this informative blog. Mostly because I love Over the Rhine, but also because I'm competitive and I hate losing. Especially when I know it's entirely possible to win.

I'm posting a form letter to email to local businesses in Cincinnati. If the people of Cincinnati could just band together for ONE voting contest, we could win this. I'm also going to post contact information for places and media I've already contacted through email and Twitter. Feel free to use my letter, change it up, or write your own. You can call, email, Tweet, whatever is most comfortable for you! Letter below.

One of Cincinnati’s urban neighborhoods is currently in an online voting competition on preservationnation.org called "This Place Matters".

Over the Rhine is up against 99 other historical sites, buildings, foundations, and cities. OTR has the largest collection of Italianate architecture in the United States, and is a vital force in revitalizing, and promoting, the city of Cincinnati. The first place prize is $25000 dollars. Voting will end on June 30th at 11:59pm EST. Only an email address is needed to vote.

I am not in any way associated with the Over the Rhine Foundation. I am simply a resident of one of Cincinnati’s suburbs who loves the neighborhood, and believes that the revitalization taking place there deserves recognition. It is one of the largest still intact urban historic districts in the United States, and has a fascinating history and German heritage.

How you can help OTR: Tweet the link below, report it on your local media outlet, post it on your website or Facebook page, send out an email list with information, tell customers, and anything else you can think of! OTR is currently in third. A first place win will not only benefit OTR, but Cincinnati as a whole. It will let the nation know that we DO care about our city, and our neighborhoods.

If you've already mentioned this in any way, thank you!

Voting page for OTR: http://www.preservationnation.org/take-action/this-place-matters/community-challenge/places/over-the-rhine.html

Thank you,
(name here)

Contact information

If you want any other organizations or businesses added please leave a comment. I do not live in Cincinnati (rural suburb girl right here) so I'm probably not aware of some of the smaller businesses that might be willing to help.

Businesses and media supporting OTR

Fox 19 (video)
Daisy Mae's Market
Q102 (blog post)
Ensemble Theatre
Urban Cincy (blog post)
Wine Me Dine Me Cincinnati (blog post)
Coffee Emporium
CityBeat (article)
Cincinnati Enquirer (article)
Christian Moerlein Beers
Local 12 (mentioned on 11pm news on 6/21)

Holding On

2011-01-22T23:52:00.000-05:00

Yeah. When I took my first improv class I was a very shy, timid person. As a friend described a few months ago, "You were mousy". I hate that word but I'm not going to deny the description. Well, maybe a little.

I didn't want to talk to anyone. I did talk to one person. I can't remember if he sat next to me before the first class, or if it was the second. Either way he struck up a conversation and helped ease my nerves. I'm proud to say he's one of my favorite improvisers now, and that I had a little crush on him. But what 17 year old girl wouldn't?

It's been almost two years (January 26!) since then. I can't believe I came out loving improv because it's such the opposite of who I thought I was (I've said this before many times). Or maybe it was just the opposite of whatever people thought of me and I was too afraid to break that notion until then.

Take chances. Do what you love or what you think you might love. Follow the Gilda Radner in your life. Whoever that may be. I've taken three other classes since then, workshops and an week immersion at Second City. I wouldn't change any of it for the world.

Holy crap I haven't posted in more than a month but this is what I've been waiting for (spread some Christmas cheer!)

2010-12-17T13:08:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite bloggers Jenny "The Bloggess" is spreading Christmas cheer this year along with a score of others. I don't think I can put into words the "cheer" she's spreading so head on over to her blog, read the two entries and consider donating something. Or, if you're in need, don't hesitate to ask for help!

First post
Second post

Love, Happy Holidays, and all that
Caitlin

Funny thing about time...

2010-11-01T16:07:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking about change a lot lately. This is no surprise to anyone but we change throughout our lives, even in the span of a few years (paint a big DUH on my forehead)

I skipped a speech on Cryptology last Monday (extra credit for math) to help out with an improv class instead. First of all, the Alias obsessed, 12 year old Caitlin would have never skipped anything pertaining to codes and the NSA. It wouldn't have happened.

Second of all, she never would have taken an improv class. That's for sure. Or even entertained the thought.

A little more than a year ago I was heading to Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts, (which seems like worlds away), getting ready to start a new chapter in my life. Except I didn't know that I'd end up leaving shortly after and taking a year off. And then attending a college in a state I SWORE I would never go to.

I think I was afraid I couldn't get anything out of the city I grew up in. I had to travel far away and experience new things and that was only way I'd learn more about myself and the world.

But I've changed without it. And I don't want to live on the East Coast anymore. I want to stay in the Midwest. Live in Chicago, study improv and come home to my hometown as much as possible because I love it more than anything.

Funny how time changes people. And how one decision can change everything.

In other news...

2010-10-26T17:55:00.000-04:00

-I spilled hot chocolate on myself today in Starbucks. It seeped through a sweater, two shirts and my bra. At least I smelled nice.

-I bought pink gloves at Kroger and they ran up as "Lady Gloves". Sorry, guys. I guess you can't wear pink after all.

-I'll be in DC on Saturday for the Fear/Sanity rally. Side I'm rooting for? Fear, naturally.

AND on the interwebs...

Maura the Marie Clarie blogger thinks overweight people are gross. You know what I think? I think she needs to own up to the fact that she's an idiot

Canadian tuxedos. They're stylish.

Once again Yahoo! has foiled my blog in the "meaningful writings" department

Play is vital

2010-10-18T02:06:00.002-04:00

I haven't taken an improv class since I got back from my summer class in Chicago. Granted it was a Second City class and you'd think that would be enough to keep me going for a while.

But it isn't.

I tried getting a group together at my college but it didn't work out. And I am currently very jealous of some of my summer improv classmates who have a group going at their college. Happy for them, but envious.

I need to do improv. I have the urge to agree and accept, move the spotlight, heighten and explore, find the heat & the weight.

Sometimes I can't believe I even dared to take an improv class a little more than a year and a half ago. It's outside this preconceived personality I had set up for myself all throughout my childhood.

But I proved myself wrong. And now it won't go away. Sometimes I wish there were a few more places to take classes. Because if I don't have the time or can't afford to take a class this winter, and I have to wait until the spring (or dare I say summer!) I might just go crazy.

Might.

EDIT: Can I just add that Second City is coming to my lovely city soon, and performing an original show about it. AND Mick Napier is directing the show. For real. Sayjal Joshi, a woman I saw in the Second City touring company last fall, is also in the show. Loved her! Can't wait.

Feel free to insert a shoe into your mouth and shove it down your throat

2010-10-13T22:45:00.002-04:00

Shut up. Just shut up. I came onto Blogger in the middle of midterms, expecting to find humurous postings from all of my favorite Bloggers. Hoping to get a laugh and then move onto writing a paper.

NOPE. Instead I find this post over at Midwestern Mama and I'm sickened. Someone suffers a loss, and people attack them? Seriously people? Whatever happened to common human deceny? Especially in the time of a death.

I swear. If someone ever used the death of one of my relatives, friends, anyone, for some twisted activist statement I'd be pissed too, and make sure they paid for it. It's that simple, honestly. You don't attack someone in a moment of grief and expect to get away with it.

Hey! Cyber bullies who write "anonymous" comments because they're chicken. No one likes you. You can go back to hating yourselves now. I give you every blessing to make yourselves feel like shit (clearly you have some "no one loves me so I need to make other people feel terrible" issues. Gee, I wonder WHY?) but don't take your crappy existence out on another human being.

I don't usually speak this frank but it's the truth. Take this statement to heart. "Treat others the way you want to be treated"

And don't expect to be treated nicely when you don't.

Phrases I say that probably only make sense to me

2010-10-04T07:47:00.000-04:00

I have a few select phrases I use that would probably sound weird or ridiculous to normal people. But, alas, I will share them anyway. This should be fun.

Frick the freak: It's like when Eliot from Scrubs says "Frick" except even weirder.

Douchecanoe: I stole this from Jenny, The Bloggess. But it's incredibly useful in most situations.

Creepass: If you're abnormally creepy I will use this to describe you.

Holy Hell: Used to describe disbelief or surprise

There you have it. The language of me. Feel free to incorporate them into your daily live. I know you're dying too.

No one ever said planning an imaginary trip is fun

2010-09-26T20:18:00.000-04:00

I have to plan a "fake" trip to NYC for my theatre intro class.

I don't know if it's supposed to be fun. Planning a trip is only exciting when you're actually going to implement the plan. Since I have no money, that's notta gonna happen.

In other news I saw Idina Menzel perform with the (insert city here) Pops. She is amazing. Her voice sounds even better live. And she's very adorable and funny. People were taking pictures the entire time (not allowed but ya know). She stopped one woman behind me and told her to let her pose and THEN take the picture. Idina fixed her dress (ie boobs) and posed. Right in front of me. I was four rows away. FANTASTIC.

She made me almost cry four times and I finally let it roll at the end when she sang "Tomorrow" from Annie to her mom. She was in the audience somewhere.

Oh yeah. She also rapped. About her baby. Epic.

Frick. I can't write meaningful articles likes Yahoo! does

2010-09-21T22:28:00.000-04:00

I'm jealous. I can only manage to pull out a semi-meaningful blog post once every month, while Yahoo! is swimming in them.

Takin' Care of Your Jeans
William Shatner & Your DVR
Confuse People About Your Age

If only I could think up topics like the above. I'd have commenters left and right. Oh, well. We can't all define a generation like Yahoo! does.

Remember

2010-09-11T10:20:00.000-04:00

I was in 5th grade on September 11, 2001. My teacher was Mrs. Day. I remember the day started off normal. When the Twin Towers were struck, she didn't tell my class. I remember it feeling strange. She was walking out of the room a lot that morning. And we didn't know why.

At lunch (probably around 11 or 12) one of my best friends tried to tell me what had happened. Problem was her class sat at a different table across from ours. I misinterpreted what she attempted to explain. I thought she was telling me that a building in CINCINNATI had been hit by bad guys (that's what they were to me). I freaked out. My grandmother was working in Columbus that day and I was afraid they would attack them next.

Finally after lunch my teacher told us what had happened; to the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, the heroic people on Flight 93. We watched news report until the bell rang. My brother's soccer practice got cancelled that night. Everything felt different. I remember crying for everyone who had died. I was a kid, I didn't truly understand what was going on, but I still felt all of the sadness surrounding our country.

Remember.

Yes, please, feel free to stare at my ginormous computer screen fellow library goers

2010-09-03T10:00:00.000-04:00

I was sitting in my college's library this morning, surfing Facebook on one of their computers (don't judge me). And I noticed the screen was HUGE. People from half way cross the lobby probably could have watched me commenting on photos. I felt incredibly self-conscious. In a library. Does that even make sense?

Then this guy next to me starts talking. I don't know if he's talking to himself or if he's trying to strike up a convo with a complete stranger. I just ignored him and stared intently at my email's spam inbox. He eventually stopped. I hope he didn't think I was being rude.

I love the library but it's huge. It literally took me two weeks to figure out how to get from the back entrance to the front entrance. And I still haven't figured out how to navigate their "book collection".

I can't believe I haven't written in days and I choose libraries as my topic. Feel free to ignore this post.

Slip slidin' down the "sloppy clothes" slope

2010-08-26T20:54:00.002-04:00

I started college on Monday. I wore a cute pair of jean shorts and a white shirt on my first day. I put semi-effort into that outfit. The next day I wore jeans. Not as cute but, still, a little stylish.

Then yesterday I donned the dreaded soccer shirt/athletic shorts combination. Call me lazy, call me tired after only two days of school. Whatever. It's become apparent to me that my dressing habits will never change.

Sure. I'll put in some effort on select days but mostly I just like being comfortable. And if that means wearing sloppy clothes three out of five days a week, so be it.

I have not, however, worn pajamas to school before. Except during spirit week... but that totally doesn't count.

But if I had Liz Lemon cupcake pajamas I would definitely wear them every day

ALERT! ALERT! Shameless plug. If you don't enjoy shameless plugs, well, then don't read

2010-08-22T20:38:00.000-04:00

I'm starting college tomorrow. I'm going to try and post as often as possible. Promise.

In other news, I wrote some parody lyrics a few weeks ago to Katy Perry's "California Gurls". Below is the end result. I love all of my friends who helped with this. Can you guess who I am? (it's not that hard, honestly).

Cincinnati Gurls

It’s like a bad horror movie, only worse. And there's no air conditioning in the movie theatre.

2010-08-20T13:55:00.002-04:00

It seems like every time I’m about to force myself to write a blog post, something happens that does the forcing for me. Thanks, universe.

Not a mere 30 minutes ago (except it’ll be a lot longer than that when I eventually post this. I HAVE NO INTERNET!) I was taking a shower at 1pm cause I’m lazy like that. Then my lights when out. I hate when my lights go out while I’m taking a shower. It’s such a buzz kill.

And I always have these flashbacks to bad horror movies I’ve seen. Where the girl is taking a shower and suddenly she gets knifed and never sees it coming. Yeah, that’s me. But I hope I’m not as idiotic as them. Or have annoying screams like they do.

I also imagined a burglar cutting my electric lines. I don’t know why a burglar would need to turn my house’s power off in the middle of the day to rob it. It makes logical sense in my warped mind. Maybe so I couldn’t call the police?

But jokes on you, suckas! My phones still work when my electricity goes out. Rob away.

Or don’t. That’s cool too.

I’m home all by myself and no one’s answering their cell phones. So I can’t even think this problem out with anyone else. See my electricity is back on now. Except it’s like the power got cut in half. The lights are dim and my fans are barely turning.

URGENT EDIT!

Crap. Now my phones won’t work! I probably shouldn’t have taunted robbers earlier on. Sorry, guys.

I feel like I’m back in the middle ages. I can’t call anyone, it’s hot and my water isn’t working. And did I mention? NO INTERNET! I take back all of those “princess” wishes I made when I was little. Screw knights and ponies. Give me some freaking air conditioning. And Scrubs.

A little less urgent EDIT!

It’s back on. All is right with the world.

YEAH, sorry about that email. But seriously hackers you are not picking the right person to hack when it comes to this message

2010-08-14T23:18:00.005-04:00

I haven't used my old email address in a long time. And I get a Facebook comment today from my aunt. Yes, my aunt and several other family members got a spam email from me about "performing better in bed". Now you have to click this link to get the 411 but still...

Guess who else got it? Freaking Brandeis University. A college I got accepted to last year. Good thing I ended up not going there. Or I would be going back to Boston soon, red faced.

Honestly, I'm probably not the best person to go to for "performing better in bed" advice. I can give you some tips I read about in Glamour or Marie Claire, but that's about it. And I'll probably end up forgetting half of the them. Or mixing them up with "tips for getting the guy you want". Or just making ridiculous ones up off the top of my head. This is where improv classes come in handy, you guys. Remember that.

And half the people in my contacts don't even RESPOND to emails so I'm assuming they don't read them. Or they don't like me...

Thanks a lot, hackers. Now you've made me realize that no one likes me enough to answer the important emails I send them. Way to ruin my mood twice today. Go hack a message board, or leave annoying comments on Blogger posts. You'll probably reach a wider audience anyway. And it won't be coming from a 19 year old girl from the Midwest.

You should go here for "performance tips"; not random emails that get sent to you. They probably contain viruses, or just really bad sex advice.

"Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake"

2010-08-12T21:46:00.001-04:00

This is a semi-serious post. Let me start by saying that my family/good friends never discouraged me from doing theatre. Nor did they pressure me to pursue things I didn't want to. And the perfectionism? That just kind of comes with being me. Though, I've gotten rid of a lot of it. It's a long post fyi

----
"It is sometimes wiser to follow the dreams of your heart than the logic of your mind"

I improvise because it contradicts what people once thought of me. In middle school I was the quiet one, the smart one. Around strangers I didn’t talk. I listened, observed, but I didn’t talk.

When I was young, a lot of the people told me to be a lawyer when I grew up, a doctor, a politician. Hell, the 8th grade career test told me I enjoyed helping others. That I should be a nurse, a counselor, a teacher. And I figured, why should it be any other way?

I improvise because it contradicts what I once thought of myself. If I could travel back in time to fifth grade and tell myself about how I’d gotten up the courage to improvise, I’d laugh (my fifth grader self, you guys). I’d fall on the ground, shake. Then I’d quietly get back up, take a seat at my desk and finish my history questions.

But secretly, I’d be jealous. I desperately wanted to be the class clown, not the smart girl. I was to cautious, though, to believe that could actually happen. So I accepted the role others had handed me, and forgot. I dreamed but never went any further.

I improvise because I’m allowed to fail. Something the fifth grade me couldn’t imagine doing. In middle school I got a ‘C’ on my interim and cried. I cried because I thought everyone expected me to get perfect grades (they didn't). A ‘C’ wasn’t good enough. It was average.

-------

I walked into my first improv class scared to death. Not because I was afraid I wouldn’t be funny but because I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough to say. Like I’d suddenly run out of words in the middle of a scene and, well, it’d be the end of it.

That never happened, though. I gradually became less and less nervous. I took chances. I made people laugh. I made people laugh. I didn’t run out of things to say. I didn’t run out of things to say.

“You’re taking an improv class,” a person at school snorted one day. “I didn’t know you were funny.”

I brushed it off and carried on. What did he know? I had the power to make others smile. He didn’t know the half of it.

Improvisation has made me more open, social, free. It has made me more of who am I. Who I should have been all along but was to afraid to be.

I soar. I leap. I forget about safety nets. It’s like skydiving minus the physical danger. There’s some damage to the ego but nothing a laugh from a fellow improv classmate can't fix.

And sometimes I cry for my younger self. Like while I was writing this. I didn’t know what I was missing. I was scared of breaking the roles I’d thought I'd been assigned. But I eventually found improv. I learned my lesson. That’s all that matters.

I continue to be mostly soft spoken. But I’ve realized that some of my favorite improvisers are soft spoken when not performing. I have a feeling they also had to realize that performers don’t have to be loud. Or constantly entertaining others.

I stand by them. I understand.

-----

It is so important to follow your heart. Logically I shouldn’t be improvising. Logically I shouldn’t have traveled to Chicago to take a class at Second City. Or been allowed to help teach a few days ago at an improv workshop.

Logically doesn’t always work out.

Sometimes the smartest thing you can do in life is to turn off your brain, or the yapping judgmental voice in your head, and just be. Be what your heart yearns to be, what it tugs at.

Simply follow it without protest. It might just take you down a path you didn’t expect.

Bring on the funny Youtube videos

2010-08-11T22:54:00.004-04:00

My next post is going to be a little more serious than usual. Sooo I'll share a funny Youtube video FIRST and then post serious stuff tomorrow.

Jet Eveleth is a wonderful improviser I got to see perform in Chicago. She's fantastic on stage, and fantastic in this video.

Unfornate Doctor at the Hospital

First impressions - make em' count. Or you might end up scaring me to death.

2010-08-06T23:19:00.007-04:00

I've been waiting patiently to find out who my teacher is for one of my theatre classes. And I got a pleasant surprise when my schedule was finally updated today.

Some relevant background info: I interned at a theatre a couple of years ago as a backstage person. On my first night there the artistic director got incredibly angry at an actor and freaked out. Like yelling and stomping out of the room freaked out.

Let me tell you. I was seriously intimidated by him for the rest of show. He scared me. I didn't want to be by him and I certainly didn't want to mess anything up in front of him.

And you guessed it. He's my teacher. I'm hoping it was just a bad first impression. I immediately rushed to Rate My Professors; an awesome website that allows students to screen potential "disaster" teachers. Everyone says he's laid back and easy going. Not a bad review anywhere.

I can only hope. If there was ever a time for my fellow classmates to be completely unbiased and accurate, this is it.

Technology is not being super friendly right now aka Twitter can go play outside by itself

2010-08-02T23:37:00.011-04:00

So I log on to Twitter and notice there's a new Bloggess post... about Twitter. Apparently some people are receiving suggestions on who they should follow based on their "tweets".

Except me. I guess I'm not cool enough. But that's not the only thing Twitter has inflicted on me since I began tweeting.

First Twitter makes me stare at that stupid whale with a bunch of birds holding it up for two hours because they've exceeded capacity. And it always happens during times of great urgency. Like when "I can't believe it's not butter" Jesus burned down in June. That was important, Twitter. Really important. I live 30 minutes away. I can't just walk down the street and see what's happening. I need hard hitting, live tweets from people on the front line.
And those birds can't hold up a whale! I am not convinced Twitter. I will not be fooled into thinking eight birds can defy the laws of science. Or weight or whatever.

Then Twitter users shove the movie Inception down my throat. It's still trending on Twitter. Still. And I'm almost positive I'm one of those three people that would hate the movie. Which is why I refuse to see it. I don't want to be hated by man kind or Leonardo DiCaprio. I can't handle that.

Finally, I wake up this morning to read that Bill Cosby might sort of kind of be dead according to Twitter trends. Not that I believed them. But I still had a momentary two second period of sadness. Until I used Google. Google is on top of things. Twitter, you, sir (or madam), are not.

Twitter this is all I'm asking for: Please be more kind in the future. I already have to deal with Farmville on Facebook and Myspace is but a distant memory. I need a friendly website in my life. And I think you could be it.

You can wink at me when you stop being an asshole, Twitter bird

When the bitch bun goes up, stuff gets serious.

2010-08-01T20:26:00.005-04:00

I hosted a party this weekend at work and ended up in the bathroom crying. First of all I'd barely gotten any sleep (college orientation) and I wasn't feeling well (sore throat). When the person I was hosting came in rude, all mighty as hell, I freaked out. She was demanding, bossy, complaining about everything. I didn't feel like dealing with her.

Good thing I am no longer ashamed of crying. Because seriously it's how I get stress out. It's how I pretty much get everything out; anger, sadness (really?), frustration.

But I bucked up. I ranted to my fellow employees (love you guys!) and got back to work. And the one thing I did do to get through it was put my bitch bun up. Pull hair up into ponytail, wrap it around ponytail holder tightly and tuck in. That's when shit gets serious.

It's not that I actually acted like a bitch. I was nice and courteous. I smiled when she complained. It simply reminds me to deal with crap nicely and bitch on the INSIDE. That's the only way you get through a situation like that. Believe me.

I didn't get tipped (wasn't expecting too). But if I had I would've donated it to charity. Maybe the good karma would have come back and graced her fantastic personality.

Robots don't smile and also people in Chicago probably think I'm kind of weird.

2010-07-26T14:42:00.006-04:00

I got back from Chicago on Friday. And have finally caught up on my sleep. Chicago is a lovely city. I can see myself living there.

BUT let me say this. People in Chicago don't smile. Like at all. I'm so used to walking in the grocery store, making eye contact with strangers and smiling. Then they smile back, common courtesy. I even do this when I'm walking down the street and I receive a nice response.

I did this in Chicago a couple of times and it was not pretty. People gave me this look like I was a "friendly" person impeding on their robotness. Robots don't smile, and neither do Chicagoans apparently. I felt like a freak the few times I did it. I did get one local to smile back but that was it. What a success.

So don't smile at other people in Chicago. But you can hold open doors for them at Starbucks. They seem to enjoy that.

"Improv cures what ails"

2010-07-20T00:19:00.006-04:00

"Improv cures what ails" Liz Allen

I saw the Armando Diaz Experiance at iO tonight. Basically one person is Armando Diaz and they get up and tell monologues based off of a suggestion from the audience. Then the other improvisers do long form based off of the monologues he or she tells.

Armando Diaz talked about a lot of things tonight; pineapples (the suggestion), medicine, anxiety, death. His father died about three months ago. At the very end, his last monologue, he started to tear up. Then he cried and his voice was shaking. Then I started crying (AGAIN?) and I could see other people crying. Then the improvisers took their bows and most of them were crying.

And I realized something. Improv isn't always funny. OK. So I knew that before but sometimes you forget. Improv can be sad, happy, uplifting, full of wisdom, weird, random. It can also be an ephiphany.

I realized the point of the exercise I wrote about in my other blog post. The "heavy" one. I reliazed that it was supposed to make us feel safe. I felt safe tonight at iO. That's why I cried. That's why Armando Diaz cried and the improvisers and other audience members. It was OK.

It's okay to cry. It's okay to feel uncomfortable. It's okay to cry in front of others. In a restuarunt bathroom, whatever.

But it's not okay to feel unsafe. I felt safe at iO and I felt safe in improv class today. So did everyone else. Or we wouldn't have said the personal things we did. I trusted them. Even though I was nervous and didn't want to share personal things, I did anyway. Because something in me knew it was okay to trust.

So THANK YOU iO for helping me realize the point of that exercise. I can't believe it took me almost a whole day, but we all work at our own pace. I get it. And I would gladly do that exercise again. Gladly.

Improvable Adventures in The Second City

2010-07-19T15:32:00.008-04:00

First day of my improv class today at Second City. We started off with some name games. Basically associating people's name with a sound and physical gesture. Then we did a give and take exercise. One person would start walking and then someone else would have to take the energy from them using eye contact. They had to start walking, while the other person had to stop walking at the same time. Not my favorite game. It was OK but there are just a few improv exercises that I don't enjoy that much. That was one.

Then we did mirror work. LOVE that. Love any sort of mirror work. We stood in a circle and started in a neutral position (arms at side, legs shoulder width apart). Then we had to mirror everyone else. If someone smiled, then we smiled and heigtened at the same time. The object was not to purposely raise your eyebrows or move your foot (examples). No one was leading, everyone was following. I noticed that I started shaking my hand because someone else had. But I didn't have to tell myself too. I did it without thinking. Love that.

Finally we did silent environmental work. Basically miming objects and all that stuff. Not one of my strong points. I'll just leave it at that.

We also ended the class on a really heavy note. We got up and told the class our name, one thing we wanted them to know about us and one thing we didn't. People got personal. I felt closer to the group afterwards but also incredibly sad/livid. I honestly cried a little afterwards in a restuarunts bathroom. I HAD too. It was knawing at me. I felt sick to my stomach. I mean I wasn't balling. Only a few tears slid down my face. But still...

I'm really hoping I come out of class tomorrow feeling a little happier, or at least better? I don't know. I'm confused right now.

Fixing a hole where the rain gets in + Megabus adventures

2010-07-18T11:10:00.006-04:00

I am currently sitting on the Megabus somewhere near Indianapolis. I was getting car sick (or in this case bus sick) earlier. I swear I can't do anything in buses or cars except talk. It's ridiculous.

It's literally raining on the top floor of the bus. It's a double decker. Apparently the air conditioning is leaking/basically pouring on people's heads upstairs. It's just on the floor down here. My feet are uncomfortably wet.

There's a older white woman and a young black man (cute fyi) sitting across from me. They're talking about racism and education in America. Seriously interesting. I was pretending to sleep earlier so I could eavesdrop. You meet interesting people on buses. No lie.

I'll update later on. If my stomach can handle it.

----

Holy crapballs. So the flooding continued and it started dripping on me. Dirty water that looked like Pepsi. I will be complaining/getting my freakin money back.

The hostel doesn't have air conditioning BUT I'm young, I'm hip. I honestly don't care. I've suffered worse in the nasty Nati. I went to a free Second City show after that and met my fellow improv classmates. VERY nice and if anyone ever says improvisers aren't cute, they're WRONG! Dead wrong.

----

ARGHHH I hate my stomach. It always decides to f me up on trips. It's all like "Hahaha. I'm going to make you feel like throwing up so you can't eat ANYTHING. And I don't care that you're taking an amazing improv class at Second City and that you want to walk around Chicago."

I think I'm delirious from this heat

Death drop and an audition

2010-07-15T22:22:00.008-04:00

I had an audition tonight for The Importance of Being Earnest. It was fun. My ENGLISH accent was "attempted". It was better then it was last week but that's only because I've been listening to BBC radio since Tuesday/talking in an English accent around the house and even thinking with an English accent. Holy crap.

I really have no experience. I was a tech member for three years in high school and then finally got onto stage my senior year. In Grease of all musicals. This was my... fourth audition.

In other death defying news. The ride was fun (aka not). I've never been in that part of town before. Let me tell you. My city may not be as hilly as San Fransico, but it's still pretty bad. As soon as turned onto this street called Frederick Ave I saw a death drop. I hate driving down hills. I just imagine myself careerning towards the bottom, out of control.

Hey! There's another irrational fear to add to my list. Sorry mailboxes, I think you've been thrown out of the ring.

I swear I'm not dead but kinda I feel like I am

2010-07-11T17:16:00.006-04:00

I've been super busy lately. This is the second weekend in a row that I'm on ChaCha answering questions. I'm staying in Chicago next week and still need some money. So that's sucking the life out of me. Then I have an audition on Wednesday which should be fun but will also probably suck said life out of me.

I went bowling last night. It took me three games to get a strike but yay! because I got one and that's all that matters. The bowling alley was dead, though. Hardly anyone was there. Not to mention their parking lot is sketchy which only adds to the creepy factor.

I'll be in Chicago next week for an improv class. Excited beyond words for that.

I don't know what else to write. I'll just leave a pretty picture of Chicago at the end to liven this post up.

Ring ring ring. BJ's calling

2010-07-06T11:03:00.009-04:00

I'm sitting here, still tired from answering questions all weekend on ChaCha. And most of the questions I get depress me/make me question human kind. Seriously? I can't post them anywhere else but use your imagination. Yeah. It's that bad.

Suddenly, my phone rings. And then it rings again. The second time I look over at the caller ID. It's some person named BJ. I don't know a BJ but now I'm giggling because I'm immature. Thanks BJ for making me look like a ten year old boy.

Apparently he (or she) really needs to speak to someone in my household because they've called three times in a row.

He (or she) didn't even leave a message, you guys. How inconsiderate (not that I ever leave messages but still). I was looking forward to listening to it.

And too bad I don't like talking on the phone unless absolutely necessary, BJ. I'm sure we would have had a very pleasant and probably slightly awkward conversation.

"A book is a gift you can open again and again", except there's no shiny wrapping paper

2010-07-03T23:30:00.004-04:00

I'm a reading fiend. I walk into Borders and, an hour later, stroll out with a new book. I wasn't always an avid reader, though.

In kindergarten I was put in Title 1 Reading. It's a program for children deemed at risk for having learning disabilities. Which is weird. Cause, minus kindergarten, no one ever told me I "might" have learning disabilities. Especially in reading.

I have a theory, though. I think the combo of my laziness/preschool environment set me up for kindergarten reading disaster number five.

I went to a preschool down the street from my house. We didn't learn much. The teachers would have us sit in a circle every morning, and then ask us what the weather was like outside. Even though I didn't learn my numbers until kindergarten, I could have been a pretty ballin' weather woman back then.

The rest of the time we were encouraged to express ourselves. I painted pictures all day or decorated my cubby or played house in the playground with other children. In all of the memories I have from preschool, none of them contain reading.

So when I came home, what would I do? Paint bad pictures, duh. Why would I want to read a long, boring book? COLORS! CRAYONS! PAINTS! Sounds more exciting.

Now combine that with number deux: I was lazy. On my kindergarten report card my teacher wrote, "Caitlin likes to take shortcuts when she writes the letter g" I don't know HOW you take a shortcut with "g" but apparently I found a way.

Despite my rocky pre-first grade start, I did end up getting a high score on the reading portion of my ACT. And I won my 5th grade class "most pages read" contest. Take that private schools! I'm proof that public schools help students... sometimes!

BUT in all seriousness, a book really is a gift you can open again and again. Yes, they don't always come with wrapping paper... but I'm willing to bargain. Because they offer an adventure, an escape whenever I need it.

And they totally wouldn't make fun of me for not being able to read good in kindergarten... and for not using proper grammar.

The "Wait...WHAT?" moment, followed by "OHHH"

2010-07-01T15:00:00.001-04:00

I have a lot of "Wait... WHAT?" moments. More than I'd like to admit.

One year during marching band the tuba players got t-shirts that said "1 Ba + 1 Ba = Tuba"

It literally took my fellow clarineters and me an entire class to realize what it meant. We all looked at each other with "Wait... WHAT?" faces and proceeded to stare at their shirts, trying to will an answer to the surface.

I finally said the sentence out loud, thinking it might help. A couple of seconds later, like magic, we all yelled "OHHH" at the same time. Then we cracked up.

I had another one yesterday. A book drive I'm organizing is starting at the end of July. I was talking to a local dance studio, asking them when they wanted me to deliver a box and fliers.

"Oh, you can come tomorrow," the woman replied.

"Okay. Great! I'll be there," I said.

"You're going to set up the box outside, right?" she asked.

"Uh... sure," I answered.

As soon as I hung up, "WAIT... WHAT?" flashed through my head. How was a cardboard box going to survive outside? What if it rained? What if someone just took it? Cardboard boxes are always in high demand. They're pretty much infinite in what they can be used for.

Then I had my "OHHH" moment and simply emailed her for clarification. It all worked out.

Thank goodness for that flash of genius. Without it, I'd still be thinking about how a poor cardboard box could possibly survive on its' own

I have an irrational fear of my cell phone going off at inappropriate moments

2010-06-29T23:30:00.001-04:00

No, I'm not afraid of spiders or heights (well, a little) or small spaces. But I am afraid of mailboxes, rings getting stuck on my fingers and my phone going off at inappropriate moments.

I think the last one may be the worst.

A couple of years ago I took the ACT. I studied hard like any good 4.0 student should. I got to the testing place on a Saturday morning. I checked my purse for number two pencils, my driver's license, a calculator. Finally, I turned my cell phone off so it wouldn't ring during the test.

Then I checked again. And again. Off. But I was still freaking out. Even though the screen was nice and dark and blank, I flipped my purse open to check one more time.

A few minutes later I took the battery out. Problem solved.

Everyone has a fear they deem irrational. It's something we all have to live it. But I don't believe there are "strange" fears...

Unless you're afraid of mailboxes. Cause that's just weird

It's just a little crush, and not the orange kind

2010-06-28T18:30:00.001-04:00

I hate crushes.

OK. I don't hate them ENTIRELY. I just hate the stuff you have to deal with before you figure out if someone like likes you back.

I had a crush on this guy my freshmen year and made a friend tell him for me. He didn't really "answer" according to the friend. He was super vague and he never brought it up with me. Ever. So that was the end of me telling boys I liked them. One shot, that's all I gave it.

But why I really hate crushes (besides actually telling them that I like them) is because having them forces you to interpret signals. To quote He's Just Not That Into You, "Signals are bs"

Alright. They didn't actually say that in the movie, but they should have.

I'm a very indecisive person. I constantly go back and forth. One minute I'm, "Oh I think he likes me because he keeps glancing at me and then glancing away when I catch him" and then it's "He didn't say goodbye. Obviously he hates my guts. Maybe he was just trying to give me a sneaky death glare earlier"

You know what? WHO CARES about signals. I don't feel like trying to figure out if the guy I like is shy and, thus, will not let me know that he likes me. Or if he's a player or an asshole or sweet based on the way he's looking at my face.

If you like someone, for pete's sake, just tell them.

No, not this kind (though, it IS good)

Drunk werewolves and violent leprechauns pretty much sum up my childhood innocence

2010-06-25T15:00:00.002-04:00

A friend of mine used to pretend he was a drunk werewolf during recess.

OK. So he wasn't really a friend. And I'm almost 100 percent sure it was a drunk werewolf. It was a drunk something. That's the point that matters.

We were only in elementary school when we invented it. Third grade to be exact. It was some sort of pseudo tag game. Except the tagger was drunk... and also a werewolf. He was pretty skilled at stumbling around.

In middle school a couple of my good friends made up an even WEIRDER game. Yeah totally weirder than the one mentioned above. It involved pretending we were leprechauns (good and bad teams obviously), capturing people and locking them in a "pretend" prison at our base, and even getting physical if it meant winning.

And the school bus? Don't even get me started on the things I heard while riding that yellow monster.

My point: Childhood is never an innocent time when you REALLY think about it. I was in third grade and I already knew what being drunk meant. And middle school? I wasn't afraid to get physical on a playground (or a soccer field for that matter) just to win a game.

Of course there's SOME innocence sprinkled here and there. But, honestly, kids aren't as naive as we think. And I've got memories of a drunk, third grade werewolf to prove it.

How Glee, Journey and Lea Michele could have saved me from almost having a panic attack

2010-06-23T14:10:00.004-04:00

I'm pretty sure NO ONE else was thinking this during the USA vs. Algeria game (and if you were let me know. it'll be like we're twins or something). But wouldn't it have been awesome if New Directions from Glee had popped up out of no where and started singing Journey's "Don't Stop Believing"?

Let me give you a moment to take a breath after reading that ridiculously long question. And that sentence... OK

As soon as they start singing "Don't Stop Believing" in the pilot episode everything gets better. Matthew Morrison's character decides to stay and coach New Directions, and Artie is suddenly able to walk again (spoiler alert everyone!)

So basically if the whole Glee crew had shown up in South Africa and started singing Journey, the US would have scored immediately. It just MAKES SENSE. Think about it.

Then I and every other fan wouldn't have been sitting on the edge of our seats until the 91st minute/almost having a panic attack. And, hey, maybe the ref would have overturned that bogus offside call too. You never know. Glee makes miracles you guys.

I think that's why Algeria lost. Because they don't have Glee or Toy Story or 10 pound cheeseburgers. They really could have used some Lea Michele.

Their smiling faces make my heart feel all fuzzy and warm

No, Boys Like Girls. I do not enjoy your song at two in the morning

2010-06-21T12:19:00.003-04:00

A few years ago I was spending the night at a friend's house. The day consisted of swimming in her lake, trying to force people into said lake and searching for "candy mountain". So basically an awesome afternoon/evening.

We stayed up late that night watching Chucky or some other stupid horror movie. I don't like scary movies. Their cliche plots and mindlessly dumb characters tend to all blend together in my head. But back to more important matters.

Naturally I fell asleep while the movie was still on. I was sharing a tiny couch with another person (actually it might have been TWO other people). I kept waking up and then falling back asleep.

When I'd dozed off for the third time a friend's cell phone started making noises. It was playing the chorus of that Boys Like Girls song "Hero/Heroine" I ignored it the first time. But then it went off again... and again... and AGAIN. I was incredibly tired and it was keeping me awake.

"I FEEL like a HERO and you are MY HEROINE"

Over and over. The singer's stupid annoyingly high piercy voice shot through my eardrums. I remember thinking "Why is he singing that high?"

And "Is it going off again?" Then I couldn't contain my anger anymore and let it out into the open. "SHUT IT OFF!" "JOSH SHUT IT OFF!" "I'm going to throw it out the window if you don't shut it off" "Oh... OK... it's not playing anymore..."

As soon as I let my guard down it started again. I think someone finally turned it off. Or I stepped on it. Either way the song stopped.

Now I have a deep hatred for "Hero/Heroine" and Boys Like Girls. I can't listen to it. It just turns me into an angry rage machine.

I honestly don't know what lesson can be learned from this story. I just feel like sharing it. How about friends don't let friends put annoying songs as their ring tone and/or alarm? Bring earplugs to a slumber party?

Yeah. Those both work.

Finding the Game

2010-06-14T20:30:00.001-04:00

A few months ago I hosted a party at work that basically consisted of eight year olds. And the birthday kid(S) were three fraternal twins. Yeah. Two boys and a girl. Fun stuff.

While I attempted to help them open up their presents, the rest of the kids started stacking cups. Used and unused cups. They made a pyramid taller than me. Granted it was on top of a table, but STILL.

I was amused at first but then the pyramid collapsed. And then it collapsed again. And after their third try I was done. I walked over to them, clipboard still in my hand because I was writing down presents, and told them kindly to stop stacking. They didn't listen.

Then something flashed through my head. "Find the game" Or, in this case, "Find the NEW game" The cups fell down again and I quickly offered, "Why don't you guys see who can pick up the most cups and throw them away?"

They lapped it up. Soon I had 10 eight year olds running around the room grabbing smooshed plastic cups off the floor. It was hectic but, hey, that was one less thing I had to clean up later on.

I'm not really sure if that thought came from my improv side or the "holy crap these kids are getting on my nerves they better listen to me NOW" side.

But either way it solved my problem. And I didn't have to pick plastic cups off the floor when the party was over. Did I already mention that?

Best brother and sister duo EVER!

2010-06-12T12:34:00.009-04:00

Yes. I am seeing David Sedaris in October. Yes. I'm pretty much telling everyone because I'm beyond excited. I'm six rows back. I'll probably fan girl out when I see him.

Let me just say David Sedaris is hi-larious. His "humorous essays", "memoirs" whatever you wanna call them are fantastic. I love Me Talk Pretty One Day and Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. I definitely enjoy the stories from his childhood the most. And as a writer... I want to BE him :)

BUT he also has a sister Amy. I think I might love her even more. She's amazingly odd and strange and just... weird in a really good way. She attended Second City with Stephen Colbert and Paul Dinello. Even more epic. Then they went on to create a TV show on Comedy Central called Strangers With Candy. Just incredibly funny and strange. It's one of my favorite shows. Their style of humor is sooo unique.

So there you go. My favorite brother and sister duo. I still need to read the plays they've written together. That's next on my list.

Yeah I totally didn't write this crappy poem when I was 12 (probably)

2010-06-07T23:49:00.006-04:00

The first poem I wrote ever (OK second... I lost the first one)

8/28/03

Sunrise

The sun that rises so beautifully in the sky,
It's yellow and orange flames reach so high,
Can only be seen by the outside world,
It's wonder's amaze us through and through.

Some say they have seen it, some say they,
have not.
Yet that sunrise can be found in all of our,
hearts.
Dancing around like wild flames,
It's sets our goals and lead's our way.

So the next time your feeling sad and blue,
Just remember that sunrise,
And your heart will lead you through

Hey. At least it's not depressing and angsty

Words of Wisdom

2010-05-26T19:00:00.002-04:00

I think we can all learn a little something from Barney Stinson...

Shame
“In my body, where the shame gland should be, there is a second awesome gland. True story.”

Lying
"A lie is just a great story somebody ruined with the truth."

Being sick
"I'm not sick. My nose was just overflowing with awesomeness and I had to get some out"

Halloween
"You know what I love about Halloween, it’s the one night in the year chicks use to unleash their inner hoe-bag"

Dates at weddings
"You don’t bring a date to a wedding, that’s like bringing a deer carcass on a hunting trip"

Being yourself
“Now I suppose you could love yourself for the unique little snowflake that you are OR you could change your entire personality which is so much easier.”

Getting over someone
“You can’t get over a girl until you can no longer picture her boobs, it’s a scientific fact”

Ambition
“Ambition is the enemy of success”

Girls
"A girl is allowed to be crazy as long as she is equally hot."

Believing
"Okay, pep talk! You can do this, but to be more accurate, you probably can't. You're way out of practice and she's way too hot for you. So, remember, it's not about scoring. It's about believing you can do it, even though you probably can't. Go get 'em, tiger!”

They've got the beat

2010-05-24T12:00:00.002-04:00

I work at a lovely place. A place where I get to sit on an inflatable and tell kids not to do flips or kick one another. And when I'm lucky I even get to host parties and tell kids not to throw wrapping paper at the birthday boy or walk around with gift bags on their heads.

(but in all seriousness I do love working there)

Thankfully they play music over the intercom system. I do have to suffer through HSM, Selena Gomez and Camp Rock. But occasionally they play songs you'd actually hear on the radio.

And everytime "Don't Stop Believing", "No Air" and "Jump" come on I ALWAYS think...

"They should play the Glee version of this"

It's official. Glee's got the beat

The one who makes you laugh

2010-05-16T23:08:00.010-04:00

I honestly never thought I would say this, but, thank goodness for E!TV

I'm not a big fan of celebrity gossip and Perez Hilton and all that. I flip through US Weekly and Star for the fashion and Suduko puzzles but that's about it. But if it weren't for E! I might have never discovered Gilda Radner.

Back when I was still a little freshmen in high school (before I fell in love with comedy, improv and theatre. What?!) I was home one rainy Saturday with nothing to do. My mom was watching an SNL special on E! and it caught my attention. I was not a big fan of Saturday Night Live at the time. I only watched it occasionally.

The special consisted of showing old sketches and interviewing previous cast members. They were also doing tributes throughout the show to cast members who had already passed.

Gilda Radner's tribute came on and it literally changed my life. They showed her Judy Miller, Roseanne Roseannadanna and Emilly Litella characters from what I remember. I fell in love with her comedy as soon as she appeared on screen. She was SO full of life on stage (or television in this case). And her characters were hilarious. I just remember thinking, "Wow. You can really tell she loves performing. Who IS this person?" and "I'm going to do that someday"

Then, "WHAT? Comedy? You're not funny enough to be in comedy or theatre. You're to shy, you're to quiet, to everything a comedian isn't"

I can't believe Gilda Radner got me to think that. Me thinking about pursuing comedy and theatre was next to impossible back then. And it was completely unexpected. The notion came out of no where.

I immediately rushed to Youtube and watched every video I could find (not much, unfortunately). Then I bought "The Best of Gilda Radner" and watched it over and over. I even spent fifty bucks on the first season of SNL just so I could watch the sketches she was in. I seriously went through each episode and skipped anything that didn't have her in it.

But thankfully I learned that there is SNL beyond Gilda. I eventually watched the other cast members and fell in love with Jane Curtin, John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd and Bill Murray. Jane Curtin is still my favorite Weekend Update host (yes, she even beats Tina Fey).

Happy Gilda Radner Day! Thanks for making me laugh and, well, thanks for a lot of other things to.

P.S. Bunny, bunny :)

Napster playlist creator, I humbly disagree

2010-05-12T23:42:00.007-04:00

I love love love Napster. It's truly a work of genius. I love browsing all of the different playlists they create; 80s, 90s, songs to break up to, you name it they've probably made a playlist out of it.

But I can't hold my tongue on this mistake Napster. You have a playlist called "Guilty Pleasures Volume 2" and the description reads, "Songs people love, but won't necessarily admit to loving"

UM hold up. You cannot create a guilty pleasures playlist and include totally awesome songs! Why would anyone be ashamed to admit that they love "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey? That's friggin ridiculous.

And "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor? I proudly belt my heart out to that song when it comes on the radio.

Other songs that shouldn't be on this list...

"My Humps" by Black Eyed Peas - I know every word to this song and it is certainly nothing to be ashamed of

"More Than A Feeling" by Boston - Holy hell. They air guitared to this song on Scrubs and you can play it on Rock Band. Nuff said. Not embarrassing.

"Africa" by Toto - ANOTHER song played on Scrubs. Any song played on Scrubs should not be on a guilty pleasures playlist. If J.D. isn't ashamed of loving it, then we shouldn't be ashamed either.

"Down Under" by Men at Work - Why would anyone be embarrassed for liking a song by an Australian band? They have awesome accents.

"Dancing Queen" by ABBA - Who doesn't get up and dance to this when they hear it? Nothing to be embarrassed about if you do. Even Meryl Streep boogied along in Mamma Mia

And don't even get me started on "Guilty Pleasures Volume 1". Let's just say it involves Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"...

Funny like "Haha"

2010-05-12T13:56:00.007-04:00

I was born laughing... not really. But how cool would that be?

BUT an early memory of mine does involve laughing. When I was younger ("imagine, if you will, a teeny, tiny, Caitlin Neely, cute as a little doll") my dad traveled because of his job. So on certain weekends my mom would let me stay up late with her. She ALWAYS watched SNL. I remember very clearly her laughing; her head would bob up and down. My mom laughs heartily out loud, and I still admire that.

I, however, did not "get" it. Actually Saturday TV Funhouse scared me to death. Especially The Ambiguously Gay Duo. I didn't understand what was going on. I was confused by the jokes (obviously!) and that translated into fear. It's funny, though. Stephen Colbert and Steve Carrell did the voices for them and now they're two of my favorite comedians.

See what's funny is different for everyone. It's completely subjective. I didn't "get" the jokes on SNL back then so I didn't laugh. Now? I love SNL and am glad to laugh at their sketches.

All I'm saying is remember that not everyone likes your funny. Not everyone is going to "get" what's so great about Dane Cook or The Colbert Report or Monty Python or whatever. So it's pretty pointless to tell someone that they have no sense of humor merely because they don't agree with you.

I don't like The Three Stooges but that doesn't mean they're any less valuable in the comedy world. My opinion doesn't make them unfunny. Cause I can guarantee there are plenty of people out there that absolutely adore them.

On a side note, what/who do I find funny?

30 Rock, SNL, Gilda Radner, Stephen Colbert, Jon Stewart, HIMYM, Glee, Nichols & May, MST3K, improv comedy, Barbra Streisand, Brian Regan, Kathleen Madigan, Kathy Griffin, Jane Curtin, Murphy Brown, Q City Players, Scrubs, Carol Burnett, Veronica Mars, Monty Python, Steve Martin, Steve Carrell, John Belushi, Tina Fey, Lucille Ball, Oscar Wilde, Mark Twain, Modern Family, Will and Grace, David Sedaris, Seinfeld, Sarah Thyre, SWC, Will Ferrell, Madeline Kahn, the lovely Amy Sedaris, and sooo many more I can't think of at the moment.

P.S. Bonus points if you know where the quote mentioned in the second paragraph is from
Double bonus points if you know who said it and what character they were playing
TRIPLE! bonus points if you know what they were ranting about

Music to my ears

2010-05-11T12:00:00.000-04:00

My first "music memory" is from pre-school. I spent my days at good ol' "so and so" (I can't remember the name of the place and I seriously drive by it at least ten times a month). We made arts and crafts, played outside on the playground and tended to our cubbies. But what I loved more than anything else was going downstairs and playing with the instruments. Yes, maybe they were cheap and plastic, but, in my four year old mind, they were beyond magnificent.

I always grabbed either the tambourine or the triangle. My taste in instruments was HIGHBROW you guys. Plus, the tambourine made me feel like a gypsy and that was the only reason I ever watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Esmeralda, duh).

And when I entered fifth grade, my mom told me that I had to play in the band. She asked me what instrument I wanted to play and I, of course, said the tambourine. When she told me I couldn't play just the tambourine I decided the triangle would do. Same deal (who didn't see that coming?) Soooo I begrudgingly set out to find a new instrument that definitely wouldn't be as cool as the two above, but would HAVE to do.

I didn't want the trumpet. Everyone played the trumpet. There's always too many trumpets in any public school band. A majority of the girls picked the flute. I didn't want to be like every other girl. I wanted to be different. So I picked an instrument that didn't appear to be as popular, and was frankly funny looking to my fifth grade self.

You guessed it... the clarinet (did you guess it?) I have been in love ever since. Yeah. You can totally be in love with an instrument. Clarinets are music to my ears.

Luckily I had a fantastic HS band director who taught me a lot and fantastic fellow clarinetists who taught me a lot and let's not forget Land of Grant Honor band and OMEA. Without the above mentioned, who knows where I'd be? Certainly not fully ready and excited to minor in music this fall.

And to think my love for music all started with a plastic tambourine...

I'll See You In My Dreams

2010-05-09T12:25:00.011-04:00

"A good listener is not only popular everywhere, but after a while he gets to know something."

Last night I had a dream I was back in a high school classroom. The teacher was making some point about how we (students) never listen. He asked a girl and me a question and, of course, we were zoned out; staring off into space. He was angry at our ignoring him and made a snide comment. I don't remember what it was.

I just remember feeling really bad in my dream and also when I woke up. Partly because I was the "good" kid (OK... sure) in school. I didn't like disappointing my teachers. Well, the ones I liked anyway. It's funny that I can't even stand to disappoint them in my dreams.

But mostly I felt bad because I hadn't listened. I consider myself a good listener. I'm almost ALWAYS listening. I'm certainly not a big talker around most people. I like listening to people and hearing about their life, problems, successes, opinions. And I don't talk just to talk. So if you find yourself thinking, "Caitlin talks a lot around me!" That's good! I don't talk a lot around just anyone :)

And I'm currently immersed in a beginning improv class. Listening is an essential part of improv. If you don't listen to your partner(s) then how will you know what's going on? You won't. Believe me.

Funny how a dream forces you to think. Maybe they really are the window to our souls.

A Sense of Direction

2009-12-02T00:47:00.011-05:00

I love Google Maps. I don't know how I would survive a car drive to some unknown destination without a printed set of directions. My family used to have a GPS navigation thing (so technical sounding) but it broke. That's fine with me. I didn't like the ladies voice insisting that I turn right at the next light.

"I know where I'm going this time GPS voice"
"Turn right in 0.2 miles"
"I'm just going to Mcdonalds. How did you turn on anyway?"
"Recalculating"

Then I'd feel bad because I made the voice recalculate the route five times. But I knew where I was going. I swear on my deceased Garmin.

The only time a Garmin comes in handy is at night. Google directions work great in the daytime when I can actually read them, but when you're driving down a dark highway at dusk by yourself they're not as helpful. Cell phone lights work fine until you start drifting because you're not "watching the road"

So, yes, I have no sense of direction, and I'm glad I have Google Maps and the occasional Garmin to supply one for me.

Fairweather Sunday Sunday Sunday

2009-11-29T12:40:00.009-05:00

Fairweather fan
1. Someone who is only interested in a sports team when it is doing well

The Bengals are playing the Browns (if it's brown, flush it down!) today. And the only reason I'm watching the game is because they've actually been winning this season. Yes, the Bengals are winning.

I don't really enjoy watching football. The only time I'm interested in my home team is when they're doing well. That hasn't happened in what feels like 10 years. I must confess I'm a fairweather fan. Basically when it comes to any sport.

I am proud of that fact. Some people say 'fairweather fan' with scorn. They hate the fans who mill around and cheer when the wins are stacking up, and then abruptly leave when they lose three weeks in a row. But it's not my fault that I have little interest in watching a bunch of guys tackle other guys, catch a ball (which doesn't even look like a ball) and run down a long, exhausting looking field.

I stick around when my team is winning because that's the only time I find any excitement in the sport. I like winning. It's a lot more fun than watching your football team lose miserably. I've got a lot of high school experience with that, though. Being in marching band isn't all it's cracked up to be. You don't have the option of leaving the game when the score is 42 to 6.

It's not like I'm suddenly buying front row seats to every game or bleeding orange and black. I'm merely catching a few minutes of the game, leaving for an hour or two and then coming back at the end of it to see them win.

So I say all of my fellow fairweather fans stand up proudly and shout our fickleness to the world: "We're here, we might be gone next week, get used to it!"

"Ma'am, it looks like you have Nanowrimo..."

2009-11-28T04:00:00.004-05:00

I have spent this entire month writing a novel. All in the name of Nanowrimo. It's an annual contest where participants have to write 50000 words in November.

I honestly feel as if I've caught some disease. One that is both good and potentially bad. I currently have a cold and haven't felt like writing at all but there's that voice in my head that keeps telling me I can't quit. I consider myself a pretty competitive person. I was pretty mad when "someone" (I won't name names) got a higher reading level than me in 6th grade. Pretty lame, right? That's about the lamest thing you can get competitive over.

You always start a project out hopeful. I attempted Nano a few years ago and only got 1000 words in. Maybe it was the title ("How My Boyfriend Ended Up Out the Window") or maybe I've just gotten a little less lazy since then. I was ready to go at midnight on November 1st. I had my cup of tea (coffee is so Starbucks) and my laptop open. I started out strong and wrote 2k on the first night. I had already beaten my old record in less than two hours. This was going to work! I was actually going to write a story without drifting off and distracting myself by surfing the internet or singing along to Broadway tunes.

I kept up the 2k a day for about a week. I had days after that where I put it off. I'm an expert at putting things off. My habit in high school was to put off writing essays until the night before they were due. I always told my parents that I do better under pressure but that's not a good excuse. Truth is I just procrastinate a lot.

This is the point where it starts feeling like a bad disease. 40k in. I want to quit. I can barely muster 1500 words a day. But I'm going to do it. Even if I have to write four pages worth of an air hockey battle (if you read my novel it would make sense, maybe...)

After that I might edit in December. Or I might just put it off until March. We'll see how my laziness is feeling next month.