Monday, August 29, 2011

Are You There Ellen DeGeneres? It's Me, Amy

Dear Ellen-

Let’s dive right in here.  I am a huge fan.  I am a comedian.  I bleed for US women’s soccer.  If you add all of these things together what do you get? (Said as an overly eager and slightly obnoxious cheerleader) You get me, being your official correspondent to Women’s Professional Soccer next season and also the Olympics next summer to cover the US Women’s National Soccer Team! (Feel free to do some cheer kicks and spirit fingers in excitement over this idea.  I’ll give you a moment, read on once you’re done.)

Ok, welcome back.  I loved that you got into this Women’s World Cup and were tweeting your support for the team.  I have loved and played soccer since I was 4.  I started writing and performing comedy when I was 14.  Those are the only two things in my life that I can honestly say I have ever been passionate about.  There is nothing I love more than putting a smile on someone’s face and making people laugh.  I always debate if I should have stuck with soccer, but I know in my heart I was meant to make people laugh and bring smiles and laughter to people’s lives.  Well, that, and also play with puppies. I love puppies.

So Ellen, I am going to try in every form possible to contact you.  I have a writing packet I would love to get to you as well.  If you would like to read on to more of my blog entries, to get a better feel for my writing and general lack of good decision making, please do.  My dream is to be successful in comedy and someday work for you and learn from you.  If I could start that dream by covering women’s soccer for you, I might actually explode from excitement.  Literally.  But don’t let that sway you from contacting me; I will risk combustion for this.  I have so many ideas for different skits, interviews, and coverage that would all be funny, entertaining, and helpful to promoting the sport and the amazing female athletes we have here playing soccer. Your show would be perfect for this idea as a brief segment from time to time covering the WPS league and possibly something for your website for the Olympics next summer.  WPS needs all the support it can get and I want to help in the effort.  Also, once the Olympics come I suppose I could cover some of those other sports they do there as well.  I tend to forget there are other sports happening there, other than soccer.  But for you, I would cover anything and everything. Except maybe pole vaulting, that looks terrifying to me.

So please have your people contact my people.  I’m sorry, that’s a lie. I don’t have people.  If you could get me people, that would be awesome.  But I won’t push it, we can talk details later.  I hope you get to see this and you see something in me and in this idea.

Thanks for inspiring comedians like me every day.

PS: Tell Portia I am super excited for the Arrested Development movie.  We want the Bluth’s back!!!  And also let her know she had the best chicken dance…hands down.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

WPS Champs Are The New Kids in Town

Yesterday’s final of Western New York Flash against Philadelphia Independence was one crazy ride for the championship in Women’s Professional Soccer.  Each side battled right down to the very last of 5 penalty kicks they each had to go through.  For those of you who didn’t watch or would like to revisit the match I will give an in depth rundown before getting to my point.

WNY Flash won.

Ok, now onto my point.  Wait, I feel like I left some things out.  Let me back track a little.  The game was a hard fought battle in the mid field from beginning to end.  I really can't give enough praise to Brittany Bock.  Each side's midfield was playing a strong game, but she was just everywhere.  She's Notre Dame alumni and let me tell you, she is one of the 'fighting Irish' I would never want to fight.  She was like a Fighting Irish ninja who drank too much Red Bull; she was everywhere!  In a game with such huge goal scoring forwards such as Christine Sinclair, Alex Morgan, Marta, Amy Rodriguez and Tasha Kai it was surprisingly low scoring and battled in the midfield.  Bock played a major part in their win and shined every second of that game.  You take Bock and her superb work in the midfield out of that game and I see a very different result.  I absolutely love a hard fought game in the midfield like this one was.  After one goal a-piece in regulation they went into overtime where neither team was able to finish it up and they headed to penalty kicks.  I can honestly say I don’t know how many more penalty kick finishes I can handle for one summer.  The US Women’s National Team tortured us with 10 PK's in the World Cup and now another 5 from this game.  I don’t think these players realize what they’re doing to us.  Forget about how difficult it is for them to go through it, that’s nothing!  We’re the ones sitting here on our couches with a Corona on the edge of our seats losing our freaking minds.  It’s tough.  Now, I am a Boston Breakers fan at heart but WNY came in a close second for me this year so I was rooting for them all the way.  Not only for some of my favorite players being on the team, but it’s also been great seeing a new team do so well.  They went through all 5 penalty kicks making all of them on each side before Ashlyn Harris came up with an enormous save on Philly's 5th shot.  I mean enormous.  Like Kirstie Alley before Jenny Craig enormous.  It was phenomenal.  How she didn’t make the World Cup roster, as a reserve behind Hope Solo I’m still unsure.  So the new team to the league, WNY, walked away regular season champs and also with the cup for the final.

So now, let’s get down to some real talk.  That game was a clear indication of the level that we have in this country for women’s soccer.  Between the Women’s World Cup this summer and the growing talent of this league, people are taking notice.  I live in Los Angeles where we do not have a professional team and I am dying to have one.  Before you get all smart with me, I was not here when the Los Angeles Sol was here before folding.  How’s this for timing?  I am from Syracuse, NY which is about an hour from Rochester.  I moved to Los Angeles in January of this year.  So I moved to the place which just lost a team, from a place which was about to get a team.  I would say the irony doesn’t escape me, but that’s one of those situations where people call it irony when it’s really not, it’s actually just bad luck.  It’s like that song “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette.  None of those situations were ironic, they just sucked.  So this also, is in fact not irony, it just sucks.  Now I want to listen to that song though.  Maybe I can find my cassette tape single of it.  Then I would need to find a cassette player too though.  Oh, maybe a walkman!  I appear to be off track.
It’s time for some more expansion teams!  There, if I just put it right out there before I get off track again I know I at least said it.  This WNY expansion team flourished and the league is growing along with the interest across the country.  We have Olympics next year so it is a great time to keep that momentum, as I know the league knows.  I just hope there are enough funds somewhere to get a few more expansion teams out here on the west coast over the next couple of years.  It would have to be a cluster of teams at once out here and it won't happen overnight but I can be patient.  Some West Coast 2013 or 2014 teams would be a beautiful thing.  I mean, let’s be real here.  It’s southern California.  It’s basically Mexico.  There are kids playing soccer in the streets everywhere.  It is a soccer rich area.  Don’t get me wrong, I would much rather see the teams play in stadiums, not in the lot off Santa Monica Blvd with the Mexican children.  But hey, if it would get some teams out here I’ll help clear the lot of broken glass.  Let’s go!

There is so much young talent in this country coming up the ranks from college and with the growing interest I can only hope that there is something in the works for more expansions soon.  These women deserve great facilities, big sponsors, and lots of publicity.  So my hope is that WPS can not only flourish along the east coast, but also come out to the west coast again soon too.  And hey, let’s even include all those states in the middle of the country that no one really cares about.  This is the best women’s league in the entire world, and there are only 6 teams.  Imagine if there were 12 teams.  It would be the best league in the world…but with 12 teams.  So, twice as best.  Wrap your head around that.

I think I’m done rambling for now.  So congratulations to the WNY Flash and of course my favorites from the team (Imagine a cool music intro for this awesome shout out segment and picture me screaming their names and shrieking holding a sign with their names inside of hearts like I was on TRL back in the day. Damn, I keep going back to the 90’s.  Damn!  I’m off track again!  Ok, music intro, GO!) Begin: shout out.  Ashlyn Harris!  Alex Morgan!  Brittany Bock!  Christine Sinclair!  Caroline Seger!  Ali Riley!  Whitney Engen!  Beverly Goebel!  Kaley Fountain!  Yael Averbuch! McCall Zerboni! And congrats to the whole WNY Flash team! (Shrieking noise only dogs can hear)  End: shout out.

Thanks for an amazing season of the beautiful game.  I am so excited for next season and to see Morgan, Bock and the whole WNY team tear it up again.  I also cannot wait for the Olympics next year and am anxious to see if any different faces make the trip to London on the roster.  (cough, cough, Brittany Bock cough, cough Ashlyn Harris) Now I’m off to find my Alanis Morisette cassette tape and hit up some garage sales and thrift stores to find a walkman!

Friday, August 26, 2011

My First Job

My first job was at a convenience store / gas station.  I was 16 and wanted to start saving money to move to California after high school.  My interview was what you would expect from a first interview for a 16 year old.  The manager there was young and pretty hot so I flirted with him the entire time, asked no questions that related to the job itself, asked how much I would get paid, made it clear my weekends were very important to me, and said I refuse to wear a hair net while serving ice cream or making pizza.  And when I say flirting, it was 16 year old flirting, which in fact isn’t really flirting at all.  Looking back you realize all you were doing was smiling to the point that made you look crazy, saying “like” a lot, attempting your sophisticated laugh if you thought he was telling a joke, and trying to do a seductive look which gave off the impression you must have a tick.  Ok, so maybe that was just me.  But somehow I still got the job.

I would be working at the cash register, serving ice cream, and stocking the fridge occasionally.  I am not one for manual labor so I immediately figured the ice cream and the register would be my favorites.  But I soon realized as much as I hated manual labor, I hated customers even more.  When you are a 16 year old girl the last thing you want to do is be working at the cash register in a convenience store around the corner from 4 construction companies.  You knew when it was break time for them because they would all be in there buying food and doing their best to uphold their stereotype of being dirty creepers.  So I would normally ask to work the ice cream stand or stock the fridge.  Working ice cream was the best because it was fun, easy, and you could get tips.  Well technically, you couldn’t get tips.  But who was I to stop someone from dropping me a few extra dollars just because they wanted to after I tell them, “We take tips by the way.”  I was really good at it too, but some of my co workers weren’t always the best.  One guy, who I will refer to as Scruffy Tubs due to his scruffy face and voice and his obese tubby stomach, was pure entertainment to watch.  He was incapable of keeping his jeans up, he walked at a pace that would make my 87 year old grandmother tell him to hurry it up, and he was bat shit crazy.  So when he was working ice cream a typical customer scenario would normally play out like this.  He would greet them by saying “Hi what do you want?” while leaning over the counter with his crack severely hanging out and take their order.  This order was normally needed to be repeated to Scruffy Tubs 3 times before he got it straight.  He would then turn to start making his masterpiece.  It would again take around 3 times for him to make the order correctly.  After he would screw it up he would mumble an obscenity, throw the failed effort away, pull his pants up which were now showing almost all of his ass, and start again.  Once he had successfully made the order he would give it to the customer and then the real fun began; watching him try to figure out the register.  This consisted of him smacking random buttons unsure of what they did, grunting, mumbling more obscenities, grunting some more, and then having someone come ring it up for him saying he had to go take care of something in the back.  Whoever went to ring it out was always screwed, because after ringing it out they would look around and realize it looked like a tornado hit the ice cream area.  He would somehow even make a mess of ingredients he wasn’t even using.  He could be making a medium vanilla soft serve and somehow there would be nuts, sprinkles, hard cotton candy ice cream, and marshmallow fluff everywhere.  It was actually impressive.  I miss Scruffy Tubs.

After I was working there for awhile the manager hired another younger girl who went to my school.  She was a year or two younger than me and I decided to take her under my wing.  Between the construction guys coming in and Scruffy Tubs mooning everyone in the store on a minute to minute basis, I decided as long as I liked her I would help her.  Our manager had me teach her the ice cream stand.  So I started showing her everything and as I asked her to try to do something I saw her just frozen staring into the distance like there was a train coming at her full speed ahead and she knew death was near.  I looked to the same direction and saw nothing else, but Scruffy Tubs almost full bare ass up in the air as he cleaned a spill.  Once she could get over the shock of it she made some smart ass remark and started laughing.  Ok, she definitely passes, we’re going to be friends.  Her name was Jojo which was another plus because that is one of the best names to say when you’re drunk, on a side note.  Working with her was a lot of fun and we became friends outside of work.  Our manager at first liked how we worked together thinking we were being very productive and getting a lot done and I was a good teacher for her.  In fact we were normally just hanging out in the cooler talking or “cleaning the back room”.  This was always fun because it basically meant we would just be climbing around on all the structures and unwrapping boxes of supplies which would inevitably end up in styrofoam cup wars and more of a mess then when we started.  The cooler was also fun, especially on delivery days.  Again, because it meant we got to climb around on all the crates and cases of beer.  It was like that entire store was our fort.  We were like little kids again playing in forts that we made.  Only now we were making them out of cases of beer.  Which we were also drinking from time to time.  Just like kids…drunk destructive kids who steal beer.  How I miss innocent youth.

Everyone we worked with were all characters.  It’s like the universe knew someday I would be writing comedy and just perfectly placed these people around me.  Here’s a quick rundown of the rest of the cast.  The woman who worked the overnight shift was a witch.  She practiced witchcraft with her husband, who just so happened to be a substitute teacher at my school where everyone assumed he was certifiably insane.  Her engagement ring from him was a giant teal colored fake rock looking thing that she bragged to everyone cost $23.  Next is a girl who I’m really not even sure how to begin explaining.  She was a lesbian, but talked about all of her boyfriends all the time, but said she wasn’t bi.  If you understand that please let me know and explain, thanks.  She was kind of spazzy and I just never knew what to expect with her.  My friend and I had a video project for government class in school where we had a law to do a report on.  The laws we had to show being enforced were underage drinking and stealing.  I couldn’t have chosen better ones.  I think we were supposed to do more than just show it being enforced, but our teacher loved when we would do our video projects so I am pretty sure we never actually did what was asked, but it worked out.  Whenever we had to do a project we would just get high and shoot a video roughly based around the topic she gave us and she always loved it.  So we went to my work and explained we were going to be shooting the video there and I would be a teen trying to buy alcohol and when I get turned down I would steal it.  We had the idea that I would run to the door acting like it was in slow motion as I stole the bottle of booze and Crazypants (the girl I am talking about) would chase me down and act like she tackles me and take the booze back.  Everything was running smoothly, I was doing a stellar slow motion run for the door, she was slow motion chasing me, but then she went to full speed out of nowhere, laid out horizontally in the air and straight up superman dive tackled me to the ground.  Crazypants was crazy.  So after such an ordeal, I of course took it upon myself to in fact steal the bottle after all was said and done.  I was just tackled!  I needed a drink.  Last but not least was the “mom” of the crew.  She was in fact a mom of two kids who were near my age also.  She was a teacher but wanted to pick up an extra job with her oldest going to college soon.  She was another whiz at the ice cream stand.  It would take her 5 minutes just to get the gloves on, which still wouldn’t be on by the end of the struggle anyways.  And just like Scruffy Tubs, would create a post tornado atmosphere when done.  She wore glasses which I never knew how she was able to see out of because after she was done making the ice cream she would keep the gloves on and always be touching her glasses so they were constantly fogged by blue raspberry and butter pecan.  There was nothing better than watching the two of them work together on a busy Friday night.  Jojo and I were really good working ice cream together.  We worked well together, customers liked us, and we could make a milkshake in less than 10 minutes, so that helped.  But I think everyone always wanted to see Scruffy Tubs and Pecan Glasses work together more just because of the entertainment factor.  Screw being profitable, we want to see some Scruffy Tub butt!

All in all I loved working there.  The stories I have from there are endless, so I’ll have to revisit it sometime.  Until then farewell Scruffy Tub, Pecan Glasses, Crazypants, Hot Boss, Witchcraft and Jojo.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Amy Maestri: Tennis Aficionado

I watched my first almost full tennis match the other day.  It was a women’s match for a title of some sort.  I tuned in right at the beginning of the 2nd portion of the scoring table thing that has 3 sections.  As you can see, I am already an expert.  As soon as I tuned in one of the women was at the little referee high chair throne thing complaining about something.  Her name was something or other Jankovic.  Jankovic was whining about her opponent, Maria Sharapova.  Saying Sharapova was taking too much time by turning her back before a serve or some non sense.  You could see Sharapova not looking too thrilled over her opponent’s outcry as she kind of smirked and rolled her eyes. (rolling your eyes at someone acting stupid always gets you major points with me right away, so that was excellent work for a first impression) The ref didn’t seem to be too impressed by Jankovic’s Tanya Harding impression crying over this either.  Now that I think about it, I am going to refer to Jankovic as ‘Tanya’ for the rest of the story.  Typing Jankovic is kind of a pain so let’s make it easier. 

So right away, without knowing the first thing about tennis I was already on Sharapova’s side because of Tanya’s complaining and Sharapova’s excellent rolling of eyes ability.  I don’t like seeing complaining like that in sports.  I hate the one who is always on the ground crying, or yelling at the ref, or head butting other players in the chest because they felt like it. (For all you fellow soccer fans, you’re welcome)  Just play the game, you know?  So I continued watching, not always sure what the score meant or what they were talking about but I found myself getting really into it.  The more I watched, the more I realized Tanya was in fact the biggest offender in wasting time, not Sharapova.  In between the mini battles of swatting the ball with their rackets, Tanya would walk back to her coach in the crowd, get a little pep talk and a gold star if she did something good, wipe her face which wasn’t sweating with a towel, and then come back to the court.  While she was doing this Sharapova was jumping on her toes anxiously waiting for the next battle of swatting while playing with her racket like those tennis pros do so well.  What are they doing when they do that anyways?  They always start picking at their racket like there are bugs in it.  Wait!  Is that it?  From the swinging, do they collect bugs in it like a car on the freeway?  Wow, I really am a tennis expert now.  Point for me!  Now that I have solved one of the greatest mysteries in sports history, let’s get back to the match.  It was a really good battle.  Anyone who can appreciate good athletes and good competition I think could have gotten into this match.  It was back and forth and no one had a clear edge for more than a couple turns before the other one fought back.  But I soon noticed something about Sharapova that really made me start pulling for her even more.  She never once looked like she was going to be defeated.  She looked frustrated at times of course, but it would only be for a moment before she got this intense game face back on.  Anyone who knows me or who has read my stuff knows I am a big Hope Solo fan.  No doubt, Hope Solo is the queen of the universe of the intense stare down and game face.  My friend Dawn said she has tiger eyes, and I have to agree.  A tiger who knows they can destroy you with one swipe and then be asked to be on Dancing With The Stars.  You know, one of those classy tigers who can jitterbug.  But I have to admit, Sharapova has a pretty good stare down too.  Hers is one of pure concentration and focus.  She had that look for most of the match and her body language stayed strong and confident.  By the end you wouldn’t know that this match was pushing 3 hours by her body language.  Tanya looked decently poised by the end also, but she just didn’t seem to have that edge, that inner force pushing her to win it.  When it comes to one on one competition I have crazy respect for those athletes.  It just comes down to you.  Sharapova seemed to internalize everything and really motivate herself to win.  I respect that.  I also have to say that quite possibly one of my favorite things about the whole match was Sharapova screaming “Come on!!!!” and pumping her fist when she was pleased with a strong play.  I love that she never changed it up.  No “Yea!” or “Woo Hoo’s” just straight up, “Come on!!!”  I was so inspired by it that later that day I found myself yell “Come on!!” after finally opening a jar of pickles I had been fighting with for a couple of days.  There is no doubt in my mind those pickles felt like giant loser pickles after hearing my sheer joy from my victorious triumph.  I may have to start using that more often in my day to day activities.  Anyways, it was just great to see an athlete so passionate and focused all around.  In the end, Sharapova did come out with the win after a very hard fought battle between the two.  I will hand it to Tanya, she seemed to do very good with the whole swinging of the racket and darting from side to side thing, but just couldn’t hack it against Sharapova and her fist pumping cheers of glee.

This match definitely gained my interest to continue watching and try to become more knowledgeable on it.  Although, as you can clearly see from this I am already basically a certified tennis expert.  So in conclusion I just have one more thing to say.  Aside from Sharapova’s obvious athletic ability, determination, and skill, I think she also had a clear advantage past all that.  Anyone watching could tell you she deserved this win and this is why.  Her lady tennis player grunts were far superior.  I didn’t hear Tanya grunt once, not once!  What kind of women’s tennis player is that?  As Sharapova would say, “Come on!!!”

Monday, August 22, 2011

Final Experiences in New York

Before moving to Los Angeles I was living in central New York where I am from originally.  I have lots of great memories from there, and here are a few from my last epic moments there.

Moments With Friends:
On my last night out with my crew from Utica, NY I really out did myself.  We all did.  This is a group of people who I lived about an hour from but became very close to.  I have been friends with them for a few years now and love them all like my crazy drunken extended family of lunatics that they are.  We went to the bar we always go to, on the weeknight we always go, did shots of things we always do, danced around like the waste case white girls we are, and stole things from people we don’t know.  Obviously, it was an excellent and very classy evening for us.  After drinking all of the alcohol Utica had to offer I left the bar with my two girlfriends to go to an after party with three guys.  Basically as soon as we got to the house we decided we no longer had any interest in being there.  The guys were all kind of creepers.  How does that always happen?  When you’re at the bar, the guy seems totally normal and then as soon as you are away from the bar setting you realize he has an extremely high chance of being a future pedophile.  I do have a theory that may be a little crazy, but here me out.  It may, just may have to do with the alcohol.  It’s up to you if you’d like to believe this crazy theory of mine or not.  So, we started calling people for a ride.  In the mean time it was only right that we seize the moment and cause as much destruction as possible.  It was a house of a bunch of guys in their 20’s and they had plastic fruit everywhere.  What guys have plastic fruit as décor around their house?  I couldn’t let that be so we obviously had to destroy all plastic fruit in sight.  It was like someone had just smacked open a piñata filled with plastic red grapes in that kitchen once we were done.  What is it about alcohol that just makes people destructive?  I’m normally not one to destroy though.  I’m more of your happy, dancing, fist pumping and occasionally stealing from strangers type of drunk.  So going with my usual drunken characteristics I moved onto stealing.  We were basically quarantining ourselves to the kitchen because we didn’t want to socialize with anyone.  So we did what any wasted, hungry, and bored girls would do; started stealing all of their food.  While doing this we found a camera on the counter and started taking pictures of ourselves destroying their corny decorations and stealing their food.  Yes, we are indeed the greatest criminals around.  We destroy, we steal, we give you the photographic evidence. Our ride finally got there and we left.  I consider this night an extreme success.  Not only because of the fun events that lead us through the night but also that I’m able to recall this much of the story.  I normally come up with a blank slate after approximately 12 midnight when I’m with that crew.  Thanks for a memorable last night in Utica girls.  Cheers.

Last Moments Of A Crazy Person:
I might be alone on this one, but do you ever imagine yourself in a movie setting or a TV show where you are having what you think is a major life moment?  Like if it were happening in a movie there would be a slight breeze blowing your hair as the sun sets, and Coldplay is on in the background.  I had lots of these moments before moving.  Trying to be sentimental, you know?  See, I am emotionally stunted so when I want to have an emotionally epic moment I need to picture it as a movie.  But it never works like it does in the movie, you know?  Like as I was leaving my room for the last time in my parent’s house where I had grown up I decided it should be a movie moment.  I would take one last walk around remembering great childhood moments, look out the window and see reflections of my childhood below, walk to the door, take one last look, and then close the door perfectly in unison with the climax of the The Fray song playing in my head as I shed a single tear.  You know, perfect movie scene exit.  Instead, I walked around, noticed the giant hole in the wall I had been covering with posters for years that my parents would inevitably make me pay for, looked out the window and saw a dog taking a shit by our mailbox, walked to the door, took one last look and slammed my finger in the door while closing it and screamed bloody murder before turning around and tripping over my suitcase. 

I shouldn’t be allowed out in public.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Love My Boston Breakers

It’s always tough for a sports fan to see their favorite team lose in a big game.  What makes it even tougher is when that sports fan is you.  I just watched my beloved Boston Breakers fall to magicJack in the Women’s Professional Soccer Playoffs.  I’m not from Boston, I never lived in Boston, and the only thing I know about Boston, being from New York, is that everyone in New York is supposed to hate everything that comes out of that city.  I could never hate that team though.  I became a Breakers fan a couple years ago and with the players they have had coming through there, it just gets better and better for me.  With WNY Flash joining the league this year they have become a second favorite.  With talent like Alex Morgan, Christine Sinclair, Brittany Bock, Ali Riley, Caroline Seger, and Ashlyn Harris, it’s hard to not take notice.  They’re also as close to a hometown team as I have, since I am from Syracuse, NY before moving to Los Angeles.

But let’s get back to Boston.  I think they were an underrated team this year.  Let’s start with my all around favorite player who has been my favorite player for about 4 years, Leslie Osborne.  She’s a central midfielder for the team who takes on a defensive or holding midfield position and is also their captain.  She is a straight up baller on the field.  She’s quick, she’s smart, and she’s vocal. She conducts her team and leads them through the game controlling the pace and the possession.  I love watching her play because she is that person on the field who holds everything together.  If I knew anything about building a house, I would say she is whatever makes that house stay together and not fall down and crush you in your sleep. But I don’t, so let’s go with this instead; she’s like the nail in the wall holding up a painting.  Yeah, that sounds good.  You might not always see the nail doing all of its great work back there holding up the painting, but it’s there.  It is the only thing keeping that painting on the wall for everyone to see.  Without the nail you would just have a blank wall and a painting sitting on the ground.  That’s no fun.  That painting is going to get ruined, nice job.  She provides all the work to let other players shine and win as a team.  I’m not saying she doesn’t get to shine as well, because she is so strong and well rounded as a player she definitely gets her time in the spotlight too.  But the holding midfielder sometimes does go unnoticed for all of their hard work.  So from now on, when you’re at someone’s house and you see a beautiful painting hanging on the wall I suggest you take a look behind it and make sure you comment on what a good job that nail is doing to hold up the painting as well.  Don’t be rude.

I took notice of Alex Morgan about a year ago and as soon as I saw her play I said to myself that she is the future of women’s soccer in the US without a doubt.  I still stand by that statement.  I also want to throw two other names in there as well though in Lauren Cheney and Kelley O’Hara who both play for Boston.  Lauren Cheney had one of the best first World Cups you could ever ask for from a player.  Everywhere you looked she was there.  She was playing a different position from what she is used to, playing an outside midfield spot, but you would never know it wasn’t her primary position.  Normally a forward or an attacking central midfield, Cheney brings that flexibility to her game where she can do just about anything.  This World Cup convinced me of it.  If Pia Sundhage told her to go out there and play left midfield while covering right back and also making a few saves as a goalie from time to time all while juggling rubber chickens on a unicycle for comedic affect, I think she could have done it.  Scratch that, I know she could have done it.  She is a player who if you take your eye off of her for one second she will burn you.  It might take you awhile to find her, but once you do you will find you’ve been burned.   O’Hara is the other player I will put in that category of the future for the sport.  The first time I saw her play was when she was playing for Stanford against North Carolina in the championship in 2009.  UNC is my team for college so I was cheering them on but couldn’t help but notice this feisty little leprechaun running around creating a mess for UNC to deal with in the midfield and up top.  It was an unfortunate end to see her getting a 2nd yellow in the game but I looked forward to hopefully seeing her go pro.  When I saw her on FC Gold Pride the next year I was super excited for her.  Without a doubt one of the most fun players to watch.  She’s quick on the ball and is just a little troublemaker.  The kind of trouble maker who makes defenders want to bang their head against the wall.  She covers a lot of ground weaving in and out, disappearing and reappearing it seems.  I also read that she is a beast on the fitness level, killing all the fitness tests.  I have so much respect for someone like her who really prides herself on her fitness to benefit her game, which it has clearly.  But I also read somewhere that she likes putting water on her cereal.  Cereal is one of my top 3 foods and that just seems almost sacrilegious to me so I may have to deduct a point for that.  But water on cereal or not, she is still my favorite little leprechaun.

Out of the whole squad of extremely talented players on the Breakers those would have to be my top three.  This year I have also become a fan of Taryn Hemmings, Alex Scott, Jordan Angeli,and Meghan Klingenburg too.  This is all still without even mentioning players like Stephanie Cox and Rachel Buehler from the US Women’s National Team.  And of course former player, and the amazing legend in women's soccer, one of my all time favorites, Kristine Lilly. The talent is endless on this team.  Also, I cannot stop writing until I mention Kelly Smith as well.  If we are talking international players she is at the top of my list.  Christine Sinclair and Caroline Seger would hold high places as well but watching Kelly Smith play is just pure enjoyment.  She has a determination in her eyes and a focus that makes you think if she stares at you for too long she will burn a hole through you.  Hope Solo is the queen of the intimidating eyes and the stare down, for sure, but Kelly Smith just has a laser focus in her eyes that shows in her play.  She is a phenomenal addition to the Breakers and I absolutely love getting to watch her play and make defenders cry as they realize they just cannot keep up with her absolute brilliance.

It’s sad to see them out of the playoff race but I am just grateful for them putting on show after show for us of the beautiful game.  These girls really do show us the beautiful game too.  They don’t show us the dark side of flopping and diving and dirty plays.  They show us the skill, the determination, and the class of world class athletes who just flat out do work.  And as much as I say I see the future of women’s soccer in Morgan, Cheney, and O’Hara, I also have to say that although I believe they are the future, they are also very present.  No doubt they will be leaders for our country in years to come but they are already making such a sizeable difference to our nation and the sport that it almost seems false to say “future”. 

So I’ll continue watching the WPS playoffs without my Breakers, and cheer for Morgan and WNY to take home the final.  But for now I am going to go hang a new painting and could use some help so, Leslie, if you’re reading could you come help me hang it? 

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I Fear I May Be A Hot Mess

I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon when I had a glass of $4 champagne for lunch and a slice of cheese.  I think now is a good time to write.

I’m not sure yet what I want to write about though.   I’m recently unemployed and being unemployed has been ok so far.  I am working out much more, getting outside more, it’s been nice.  Also, I think being unemployed has helped my writing immensely.  My sanity, I’m not so sure.  The other day I laughed at my own Facebook status for a solid 5 minutes while sitting on my couch in my pajamas at 3 in the afternoon on a Thursday.  And by pajamas, yes I do mean one of my soccer t shirts from when I was 9 and a pair of comfy shorts I have had for 10 years and the elastic no longer helps whatsoever in the effort to keep them above a PG 13 level on me.   I think this experience has been good for me though.  When you have this much time to just think and reflect you go deep within yourself and do a lot of self revision.  I for one have discovered I do not like working.  But I also do not like having no money.  I think I just don’t like what I used to do for a living.  If I was doing something I loved, that would be a different story of course.  But the only two things I love are comedy and soccer.  Although I am working out much more now that I have the time to, ever since I went on my champagne and cheese diet I am pretty sure I am just not in playing shape for soccer anymore.  So that’s probably out.  Hopefully comedy pans out.  If not, I may need a new pair of comfy shorts to hang out in because these things just do not want to stay up.

My sister just called me and we got into a random series of conversations.  One of which lead us to my computer illiterate family.  So now I would like to take you down a little tangent with me.  My sister and I are no computer geniuses, far from it.  But we both have a pretty decent knowledge.  When you look at my parents’ ability to understand technology it’s a wonder either of us are able to operate a window fan.  They weren’t bad when we were younger.  Mom and Dad seemed to have a good grasp on the home video player and the video recorder.  We got a word processor when those were big, then a computer, it seemed like they were on top of it.  It might just be because I was too young to see their severe illiteracy or maybe they actually were on top of their game back then.  My Dad is tricky though you see.  My Mom acknowledges she knows nothing about computers and is ok with it.  When you put her in front of the computer she looks like she’s terrified of it.  I also feel like she has watched too many 90’s sitcoms where people would hit one button and delete everything on the computer.  That seems to be a fear of hers and as a result, every time she hits a button she cringes like it is about to explode.  Her cell phone isn’t much better.   Her voicemail message that she recorded for herself sounds like someone is holding a gun to her head forcing her to even have the thing in the first place.  But at least she is not in denial.  She admits it.  My Dad, though gets tricky.  He seems like he has a good grasp on things on the surface.  But when you dig deeper you realize he is not much better off.  When you get down to it he is still trying to figure out how to forward an email, but he spends hours on the computer at times.  This is now, and will always be one of life’s great mysteries to me.  I can’t understand what he does for hours when he in fact has no idea what he is doing on it.  I’m fairly certain half the time is spent just staring at the screen trying to figure out what the glowing box is trying to say to him.  I swear one day I am going to walk into the den at my parent’s house and see him pounding the computer monitor like a caveman grunting at it.  I used the computer last time I was visiting home though, and man was it slow.  So there is a good chance that’s just how long it takes him to post one of his responses to an article telling everyone what a jackass he thinks Rush Limbaugh is.

My Mom definitely gave me what I call “sitcom-idous”.  It’s where I say things out loud that should be kept to myself, but I picture myself in a sitcom where it would be hilarious. When in fact when said in real life, will just make you look like a total jack ass.  She doesn’t have that part of the syndrome, but she does have the part where she just gets herself into situations where you feel like it should be in a sitcom.  Again, her technology skills playing a major role.  My sister has tried convincing her that the DVR is not hard to operate, especially compared to the 1000 steps you had to go through on the old VCR’s to record and play back things which she always did just fine with.  But she still won’t budge and insists she can’t do it.  I think my sister finally believes her now though.  They were watching Brothers and Sisters on the DVR one day when my sister had to go to the bathroom.  She gave the remote to my Mom during the commercial and said you can just pause it when it comes back if I’m not back in time.  Mom insisted she would screw it up, to which my sister laughed it off and said all you have to do is hit pause, you’ll be fine.  When my sister came back my Mom was enthralled with the TV watching the screen intently.  My sister sat down and looked up to see a black and white film of Eisenhower’s farewell speech that had aired on CSPAN 6 months ago.  You really can’t make that stuff up.  Of all things she could have done, she put on the most random opposite thing from what they were watching.  She really out did herself.  She could have just stopped it instead of pausing it, or hit fast forward by mistake, but no…she pulled out the big guns and somehow got an Eisenhower special on.  Sitcom-idous at its finest my friends.  My sister just asked my Mom what happened to which my Mom didn’t have much to say.  She was obviously still shell shocked by the series of events which lead her to this program when her only instructions were to hit pause.  We still don’t know what happened that day, but one this was clear; Mom could no longer be trusted with the DVR.

Tangent: complete.  New tangent: begin.
I am beginning to get anxious to get a new place.  I have already been here for 6 months.  For a commit-aphobe like me that is basically a life time.  I’m surprised I haven’t started breaking out in rashes yet.  To start, I am 99% sure I live next to nocturnal deaf mutes who have the need to move furniture every night at 2 am.  I never heard voices, just furniture sliding around and being moved all over the place.  I feel like I’m one Mexican riding a forklift around away from living at an Ikea warehouse.  Next, I am female and Caucasian and quite obviously the minority here.  One of the only other white people I have met at my apartment has been the token drunk 50 year old woman who always smells of stale Newports and cheap whiskey and says things…wait, no yells things like “everyone wears tennis shoes!” for no apparent reason at me in the elevator.  I fear if I stay here much longer that is my future.  It has a community laundry room which I am always scared to go to.  I have only lived one other place that had a shared laundry room.  All of my other places had ones in the unit or the house.  Community laundry creeps me out in general but it’s all made much worse by the eerie maintenance lady who always seems to be there, but never seems to be doing anything.  She mainly stands in the corner fumbling with her keys and acting like she is getting cleaning supplies from the closet while staring at you out of the corner of her eye.  Speaking of laundry mats too, you know what bugs me about a lot of movies?   I don’t know where they get this stuff in movies where people meet and fall in love in a laundry mat.  How many times has that happened in movies and TV?  All the time!  Two young, attractive, clean, sane singles meet at the laundry mat, and they flirt and talk and then end up dating and falling in love.  No!  That doesn’t happen.  Anyone I have ever met at a community laundry facility either makes me want to shower in bleach immediately after or they scare me to the point that I avoid it all together and end up wearing my back up “last possible option” 12 year old Space Jam t-shirt when I go out because that is all I have left of clean laundry.  If I ever fall in love at a laundry mat, kill me.
Well, I think that might be it for me right now.  I always feel so cleansed after writing aimlessly.  It’s like a spiritual experience.  Or maybe it’s just me feeling light headed since I haven’t eaten since my slice of cheese yesterday.  I felt very French, very European while doing it.  You know Champagne and cheese on a nice Wednesday afternoon, so classy.  But then I remembered it was $4.95 Champagne from Rite Aid and a Kraft single, the wrapper of which was stuck to the bottom of my thigh for most of the day which I didn’t realize.  Life is good.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Haven't You Heard? Female Athletes Can't Be Talented AND Pretty

Since the Women’s World Cup there has been a lot of media attention around the whole US Women’s National Soccer Team, but especially certain players.  I for one am thrilled with the reception they are getting.  I must say, it gets a little confusing though when it comes down to female athletes.  Players like Alex Morgan and Hope Solo really make things complicated as far as I am concerned.  They are both top shelf players in their respective positions and some of the best in the world.  They also both happen to be gorgeous girls with fun and likeable personalities as well.  Some people are saying they are only getting attention because they are the pretty ones; they’re hot so they get media attention.  That’s where I get lost.  Apparently people would rather ugly talented people or gorgeous untalented people?  Not sure I get that.  Shouldn’t we love that we have these beautiful talented ladies playing for us?  In Hollywood people love the “triple threats”, but apparently in women’s sports we only should like the “single threat”.  When was the last time you heard someone say Derek Jeter is only one of the biggest names in baseball because lots of girls thinks he’s hot?  Good looking male athletes apparently are allowed to keep their talent but females instantly lose any skill or talent as soon as they are deemed “hot”.  I guess we want our girls to be ugly so they only are recognized for their talent.  (Because obviously a pretty girl can’t also be a top athlete, don’t be ridiculous)  So if you are an up and coming female athlete you have an important decision to make.  If you are both pretty and talented you need to choose otherwise you will be ridiculed for having the audacity to be pretty.  It’s time to stop using any products which will eliminate blemishes, yell at your parents for getting you regular dentist cleanings and braces when you were younger which has now cursed you with gorgeous teeth, cut your hair while blindfolded with children’s safety scissors next time you get drunk, and this is an important one…never EVER wear pink or anything girly.  Because once you hit it big if you are still pretty you will get more media attention, but you will also have people all of a sudden saying you’re just a pretty face.

I could understand this logic if they weren’t actually some of the best players.  I could understand this opinion from people if Alex Morgan spent the World Cup picking dandelions and trying to bring back “bumble bee swarm the ball” techniques from when we were all 5 years old while waving to fans during the middle of a play.  Or if Hope Solo spent her time adjusting her gloves while balls flew past her into the net as she posed and winked at the cameras.  But no, Alex Morgan spent her time scoring goals, setting up goals, and sprinting past every defender the world had to offer at this World Cup like the freakishly fast “baby horse” that she is.  Seriously, she’s like a beautifully strange and awesome breed from a horse, a gazelle, and a cheetah that all have severe caffeine addictions.  And Hope Solo spent her time defending her goal against 12 penalty kicks in 6 games, coming up with jaw dropping saves, and diving onto a shoulder that most people would have given up on after her almost career ending injury to it.  I’m not sure if you heard me correctly either so I will reiterate and make the font slightly larger so you see it…12 penalty kicks in 6 games.  Asking a keeper to deal with that is like asking Snooki to go out for one night with no bronzer and to not show her kooka.  Is it physically possible?  Yes.  Is it probable?  No.  There is no keeper in the universe whether it be a man, a woman, or a mechanically engineered robot goalie who could have dealt with it any better.  Morgan and Solo each had a phenomenal World Cup and have nothing to look back at and regret.  And yes, they looked good while doing it.  How dare they?!?

Those of us who know the sport know that these ladies truly are some of the best in the world.  I get it, people just want everyone to have a fair shake at it.  I agree there are plenty of female athletes who probably don’t get the media attention they deserve because they might not be as pretty as others.  But is that reason to penalize the ones that are?  True, it may be sexist for people to view female athletes this way, when male athletes are very rarely based off of looks, but again let’s not target the wrong people here.  Let’s not ridicule the ones breaking through and gaining support for women’s soccer.  And luckily it is only a select few who put up the ridiculous argument I have been ranting about.  The guys who say it are ignorant about the sport and just want to sleep with them and the girls who say it are ignorant about the sport and are jealous of them.  Sorry guys, saying they’re not talented probably won’t help in your pathetic attempt in your delusional fairy tale land to sleep with them.  And sorry girls, that you have a pig face.  (I know, I know I am stooping to their level with that one, but I just couldn't resist)

I say we praise these women for being the best at what they do, and just be happy when they get the media attention.  Anyone who supports women’s soccer or just women’s sports in general should be thrilled head over heels that they are getting the attention that they are.  Our Women’s National Soccer team is filled with beautiful talented athletes who will hopefully continue gaining attention and being beasts on the field making our nation proud knowing that we have some of the best athletes in the world. 

So Alex, Hope, if you are reading…keep up the great work on the field and please don’t cut your hair while 6 shots of vodka deep with safety scissors, we love you the way you are.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Late Night Entries To Ellen DeGeneres

I just got done sending my pitch to Ellen Degeneres.  This is the same idea I have been working on for a few weeks now and have sent out a couple different places.  So I am crossing my fingers and hoping she sees it and sees what an obviously unbelievable talent I am.  And also of course see my pure modesty.

While I was submitting everything to her my Internet decided to run at speeds that reminded me of when my parents first got us America Online. I was ready to throw my laptop across the room at one point. I have found though, that my writing gets better the more angry or frustrated I am.  You would think comedy...ok its fun and you should be in a fun happy mood to write it.  But nope I am at my best when I have just stubbed my toe, found out I owe $300 to the city for parking tickets, and realized that while on sleeping pills recently I sent an email to everyone I know letting them know I wet the bed until an embarrassingly late age.  If I am angry, sad, embarrassed, or's all gold.

The idea I sent to her is my idea about helping promote women's soccer while also promoting my winning smile and witty dialogue of course.  Long story short, I would be a correspondent for her like she has sometimes for certain events.  But instead of sitting there screaming like a moron like most of the fans who end up doing these things, I would be interactive and have tons of ideas for interviews, skits, and video entries.  I have plenty of ideas separate from this one as well I would love to do, but this one has just really taken over all of my time. As I have stated recently, I am actually having dreams about this idea like every other night.  Of course, when I am not dreaming about this I am in fact dreaming about being the lead singer of an 80's hair band who lives with the Golden Girls and only performs at drive in movie theaters side by side with a mime show.  You know, the usual.  Man, if I could combine the crazy ass dreams about Ellen and the WPS with the Golden Girls and 80's hair band music with mimes it could quite possibly be the world's most epic dream sequence.  I'll keep you updated on if this magnificent event comes about. 

So cross your fingers for my Ellen idea, and also that I get to have that dream.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

I Do Love Lucy

Happy 100th Lucille Ball

She just milks this for everything its worth and then some...why she is still the best
The genius who posted this spelled vitameatavegamin like a 4 year old would attempt it, but of course have to post, the classic...after hundreds of times seeing this I still can never get enough

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Oh How I Heart Charlyne Yi

If you enjoy laughter, watch.

This is Fun

Sick video made from 2160 photos during Women's World Cup training...don't be mistaken, I did not make this. I would most likely have the pateince to have made it to the second or third picture and then called it a day and gone for a margarita.

So whoever made this, nice work...go get a margarita.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

How It All Started

Teacher: Amy, you are talking too much.  Go sit in the time out chair.
The teacher soon notices Amy has moved the little red plastic time out chair back to her friends.
Teacher: Amy, what are you doing?  I told you to go sit in time out.
Amy: No, you told me to sit in the time out chair.  You didn’t tell me where to sit in it.

That was kindergarten, and it was all down hill from there.

I was born in Syracuse, NY in 1987 Amy Marie Maestri.  I have an older sister, Laurinda.  Her name is a mix between my Aunts, Laura and Linda.  So after coming up with that my parents were obviously exhausted and just said, screw it…Amy.  Short and sweet.  I grew up thinking I would someday be a professional soccer player.  But then I realized how much I loved making people laugh.  And also, it seemed like a bit of a long shot and I decided I needed something more dependable and solid.  So I moved on from that dream and landed on comedian / actress.  I figured that obviously I would have better chances with this because no one is trying to break into show business.

My first experience in show business was home made videos with my two best friends.  We created such classic shows as Painting With Francis, Casino Night, and various news programs and commercials.  It was like if SNL was made by 8 year olds who had ADD and a budget of $4 and whatever wigs and dress up clothes my mother had for us.  I also wrote my first movie when I was 10.  It was a “who done it” comedy that I was convinced would secure me a place in Hollywood as a celebrity.  When in fact the only place it got me was after school cleaning chalkboards and erasers because I tried holding casting calls during classes.

After 14 years of torturing my teachers and parents for the sole reason of wanting to get a reaction and a laugh I decided it was time to put that skill to good use.  I was watching Comedy Central and decided, yes I will do that.  I started writing there and then and one week later I auditioned for the school talent show.  The auditions were in a classroom in front of about 8 people.  Even just doing it in that atmosphere, I was already hooked.  The drama teacher told me it was refreshing to hear original material from a 14 year old and not something R rated copied from an HBO special.  My reply, “That’s fuckin right.”

The night of the talent show I was nothing but excited.  Everyone thought I would be nervous but I’ll be honest.  I’m an attention whore so if you tell me you’re putting me in front of 300 people with a spotlight, I will definitely be excited, not nervous.  I went up there and did 6 minutes of material about my big Italian family, cheerleaders, and looking forward to the day I would be able to drive.  The 6 minutes felt like 6 seconds and I did not want to get off the stage.  With every laugh I felt higher and higher.  Once I was done they went nuts and I wanted that feeling forever.

The next day I told my parents what every parent just loves to hear. “I am going to be a famous comedian.”  They knew I was good, but they also knew I fucked up a lot.  So it was a 50 / 50 toss up for them but they ended up supporting me.

From there I started writing all the time.  I carried a little blue note book with me that became notorious around school as “Amy’s little blue notebook”.  That’s right; I went to school with a real clever bunch.  Everyone would always try to sneak a peek at the note book and what I was writing but I never let anyone.  Once one of my friends got it but they soon realized it was pointless.  All I would write were a few little words that would remind me of what I wanted to write about that no one else ever understood.  Things like “baby ski pots.”  And “mouthwash roses stage”.  Yeah, I was obviously either a genius or illiterate.  I like to think genius but the jury is still out. 

I had a birthday party at a karaoke place and everyone made me get up and do some stand up.  Yes, I was my own entertainment at my birthday party.  So I did about 10 minutes and immediately returned to my kick ass Genie in A Bottle rendition.  After the party the owner of the joint came up and offered a full length show slot.  So I refined my show, added a couple more jokes and I was ready to go.  I went up there with my bright yellow YMCA kids t-shirt that I had stolen from the Thrifty Shopper and rocked that audience for 60 minutes.  I could never ask for a better feeling.  My drama teacher came and sat in the back in the shadows the whole time.  Every time I saw her she was not laughing.  I don’t know if this was planned or not but it kept me in check and also made me want to piss my pants a little. 

I was at the homecoming football game was when I got some really big news.  My parents came to the game and called me out of the crowd to come talk to them.  I thought, ok I’m done.  I don’t know what I did this time, but they came all the way here.  I must have stolen something and forgotten.  Turns out they had just gotten a call from the college where my sister went to school, SUNY New Paltz, telling me they got my demo and would like to invite me to be the opening, opening act for professional comedian Mark Curry.  I was 16 and couldn’t believe I would be performing with “Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper”. 

I picked out some of my best material to fill the 5 minutes they gave me and headed down to New Paltz with my family.  It was a crowd of about 700 people and I couldn't wait.  I got some good laughs during my set and sat back down after and watched the show.  Afterwards I got to meet Mark and he was amazing.  Tall as shit, and amazing.  He gave me the advice to never stop writing, to just write, write and write.  So I followed his advice.

Next was a call to go down to NYC and perform at an invite only open mic night at Stand Up New York.  I was 16 years old still, and I was sitting in a bar in NYC with a bunch of comedians that had been doing this since I was trading pudding cups for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in 3rd grade.  I made friends with the next youngest comedian there, who was 25.  As he drank his bottle of Bud Light and I drank my sippy cup of 1% milk we talked about where we had performed.  I definitely felt out of my league.  The first show ran way over until around 11pm so I was left sitting in the bar area with the other comedians.  I was getting a little tired of watching all these older comedians drink beer while I couldn’t.  So I decided to go for the stronger stuff.  “Bartender, I’m done with this kid stuff…get me a glass of whole milk.” Once our show started and I got called up by the MC I went out there and immediately found a person right up front who was really digging my act and was really vocal and into it.  So I fed off of her for my set and loved every second of it. I couldn’t have asked for a better first time experience in NYC.  I didn’t kill, but I didn’t bomb.  They got me.  They got what I was about and they liked it.  I was satisfied.

I was about to turn 18 and I wanted to do another full solo performance.  I sent my demo and resume to a local coffee shop / bar / café downtown and they invited me to do a show there.  In the last show I had done I introduced my guitar into my act and planned on bringing it back for this show.  I had a parody of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin” ready to go that I turned into a song about cheerleaders.  (When I see that on paper I see how ridiculous it sounds.  I would say it makes more sense once you hear the song, but that would be a lie.)  I really did have a lot of material that I liked, but I seemed to have lost focus half way through writing for that show.  I was signed on to do an hour and somehow neglected to notice I only prepared about 35 minutes.  It was the night before my birthday and the first half of the show was great, I was killing it.  I took a 10 minute intermission and retreated to my dressing room which was in fact the basement of the coffee shop where they stored all the drinks.  My friend who was introducing me that night came down and asked if I was ready.  I looked down at my notes realizing I only had about 5 minutes left if I was lucky.  I couldn’t tell you what in the hell I talked about for that 25 minutes.  I went back and forth between using old material that I would change a little on the spot, using the 5 minutes of new material I did have left, and scanning the audience to get ideas of what I could talk about based off of anything that I saw.  I got through it though, I made it 30 minutes.  A few friends came down and said how much they loved the show.  I asked how they liked the second half and it was apparent that no one had noticed anything and they said it was great.  Whew.  Ok, time to party.  So I did what any self respecting, about-to-turn-18 year old comedian would do and stole a 6 pack of beer from the basement and went on my way to my party.

After that show I started writing much more.  But I noticed a difference in my writing and how I looked at things.  I had always had an interest in sketch comedy and improv and loved performing both.  But I had never taken writing seriously in anything other than stand up until that point.  It was exciting to be viewing things a little differently but a little frustrating at the same time that I couldn’t seem to write stand up as frequently as I once had.  But now I know it doesn’t matter what form I write things in, I just do what Mark Curry told me to do…I just write.

I moved to San Diego the winter after graduating high school with an intent on working, saving money, and eventually moving up to LA.  I did not concentrate on work and saving money for LA.  Who would have thought, an 18 year old, 3000 miles from home, living alone for the first time didn’t save money?  When I wasn’t working I was partying on the beach and crowning myself the self proclaimed “night surfing champion of the world and most of the universe.”

I moved back to Syracuse just before turning 20.  Apparently the ‘night surfing champion of the world and most of the universe’ had spent all of her money.  I unfortunately lost focus at that point and was not writing or performing for awhile.  I started writing again though and got that itch back.  I missed writing, I missed forming ideas, and I really missed being on stage.  Like I said, I’m an attention whore. 

So currently, I am writing more then I ever have and taking classes in LA.  I’m older, wiser, and am already the night surfing champion of most of the universe so that won’t distract me this time around. 

As much as I would love to keep writing right now I’m thirsty, so I’m going to grab my sippy cup of whole milk, toss a few back, and brush up on my ‘Painting With Francis’ impression.  But keep an eye out for me…I’ll be the girl holding the little red plastic time out chair going wherever the hell I want to with it.