The Comfy Corner

1) I eat a lot of Chic Fil A, Mexican Food and Barbecue.

2) I marvel at how cheap beer on draft is.

3) I get roped into taking out the trash or doing chores and I always ask, "What do you do when I'm NOT here?!"

4) I play with the dogs and wish I could have one of my own in my apartment.

5) My little sister wakes me up every morning.

6) I watch entire seasons of TV shows on Netflix

7) I read a lot of statuses and start preoccupying my thoughts with things like, "I'm so annoyed with all of these Black Swan statuses." or "When did it become a new thing to make your New Year's resolution your status?"

8) My grandmother tells me I am "very pretty" every ten minutes I'm with her (Alzheimer's)

9) My sister says, "That's so gay" all the time and always apologizes to me.

10) I breathe in the fresh air, I sleep a lot, I eat a lot, I marvel at the beauty of the mountains, I am thankful for my family and for the fact that I still have really great friends here.

Ya'll have a nice day!

Nathan

This is why coming home and digging through old stuff can be dangerous. I won the year book design competition in fifth grade and this is the portrait of a winner. At least I was doing well at something...



Not much longer after that photo was taken, I wrote my autobiography. I wish I could just upload the whole thing because it is all golden. On one page I talk about how I want to stop pollution five times. Apparently I was on a big environmental kick. And under "five important questions for the future" I asked "What will we eat? Where will we go? What will we do? What will we wear? Where will we have gone?" That's all I could come up with in the moment, apparently. But here are the current fads...



Apparently it was really cool to wear plaid button ups unbuttoned over a white shirt, listen to 98 degrees and watch DVD's. Oh my 6th grade self. Those were dark times. It's important for everyone to know that this is around the time I started running to lose weight and clean myself up.

It's Christmas Eve and I'm home enjoying my last winter break ever (a scary thought). This woman, Carole, from my boy scout troop (yes, I'm an Eagle scout. I loved boy scouts for all the wrong reasons...joking, sort of) messages me on FB telling me that Gavin Creel was going to be in town and was playing bells at the church. Apparently, the Creels live in Asheville. Who knew that the man with a voice like melted butter who has been nominated for two Tony awards spent every Christmas in my hometown?! Not me. So, of course I decided to go to church for the first time in a long time. Perhaps I'll be smited for going to church with ulterior motives. But, for the record, God, I enjoyed the service. That, however, is not the miracle.

The miracle is that I was able to hold myself together really well around a celebrity (an attractive, gay celebrity at that)! If you follow my blogs, my celebrity interactions are always very awkward and usually end with me asking for a picture. I did NOT ask for a picture (though I did have my camera) and I kept my cool. We calmly chatted about the A.R.T. in Boston and I asked him if he'd come visit Emerson for a Q & A to which he said he would love to. He's a super cool guy. It was weird and sort of inspiring to meet an openly gay musical theatre person in my home town. I felt my worlds melting together in an odd way. I hope one day I'll be able to come back to visit Asheville in a similar fashion (as an out, confident, musical theatre celeb).

It's times like this that I feel like fate is really nudging me and saying, "Duh, this is what you are supposed to do! Are you CRAZY!?!? Go to NYC immediately!" And that is a feeling I wouldn't trade for the world.

Sunday - I was working at CPK all day. During the lunch shift, I waited on these two gay men. They were cracking a lot of jokes and being very nice to me. I wouldn't necessarily say they were flirting with me, but they were definitely being more social with me than most. When they paid the bill, I realized that they overpaid by like twenty dollars, so I brought them change. When I did that, one of them looks at me and says, "Oh no, that's for you!" and then he grabs my hand pulls me in close and whispers into my year, "By the way, cutest butt in Boston." I blushed and just said, "Thanks so much!" Of course I handled the situation uber-awkwardly. But I was flattered. That was actually just what I needed to hear.

The other day, I had a party of three that came in and sat down at the largest table in my section (it can seat six or seven). This would have been fine if they were just dropping in for a quick bite, but they were "waiting for someone else" so I had to continually check in on them over the course of the next two and a half hours. They sat there at my largest table with their waters and their soup and just selfishly prevented me from making any money that evening. These are the lessons that all people need to learn from this story.

Earlier this afternoon, I found a comfy corner at Emerson College (pictured above, compliments of AJacks). As I stared wistfully out of the fourth floor window in the Tufte Center, absorbing the warmth of the heater and the view of Tremont Street, I pondered, "What are some other comfy corners at Emerson?" Feel free to add your own. I'd love to find more.

1. The stage left exit of the Greene theater. A dark, quiet corner to hide during tech rehearsals.

2. The quiet study room in Piano Row. I discovered this room on a cold, snowy day my sophomore year. The large windows overlook the courtyard. I fell asleep watching the snow fall, enjoying the warmth of the room, the coolness of the windows, and the cushy-ness of the sofa.

3. The sofas in the library right next to the set of "Will and Grace." I'll be the first to admit that I love sitting in those seats and pretending that I'm on the TV show. And there couldn't be a comfier show to be on the set of!

4. The rolley-couch square things in the lobby of the Paramount. After ballet class and before studio dance, I retreat to these comfy couches and curl up like a little pearl (strange simile but it makes sense in my brain)

5. The second balcony of the Majestic theater. I had studio in the Majestic one day; Just the 14 of us running around that gorgeous theater and singing songs on the stage. I discovered a spot on the top balcony where you can lie down and stare up at the ceiling and it's like you are drowning in a fabrege egg (more weird similes). So...COMFY!

:) This is the standard. This can turn a simple "Okay." into an "Okay, awesome! That sounds really great and I can't wait for it!" But, (and this is true for any emoticon) it can't be used in excess or else it loses its power and becomes insincere. Another rule: never ever try and make a smiley better by adding more parentheses :))))))) That is just stupid.

:D This is a fun one. I used to not be so keen on it, but now it's growing on me. It adds nuance to the standard smiley in a big way. It says "YAY! THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!" without actually saying that.

;) This one can be dangerous. It's kinda like adding "in bed" or "if you know what I mean" to the end of your sentence. This is definitely one that needs to be used sparingly and only if you know the person well enough.

:p The tongue out. A classic signal that you are being sarcastic. This is an important tool in the science of emoticons. Texts and emails fail to have a tone (unless you are a brilliant, careful writer like myself) so this one is vital to let your reader know that you are kidding, but not really kidding, but kidding. You're kidding on the square.

:* A kiss. Also to be used only for those you are very close with.

({}) This one is not very standard, but I think it's funny. It's used on the BlackBerry to represent a hug. But, let's be real. It looks like something else.

'_' I made this one up. It's the emoticon that just saw a ghost. Use sparingly.

Tis' the holiday season yet again. I am convinced that the only reason we have the holiday season is just to distract us from all of the shitty weather. I theorize that years ago someone was like, "It is fucking cold! Let's start some rumors." (in more or less words) And then they wrote the Bible and told lots of stories about dinner with Indians and thus we have holidays. But, whether or not the holidays are just rumors or if they are legitimate reasons to celebrate, I am thankful for them because it is a time when I become so much closer to my friends and family.

It's so easy to get sidetracked and forget about those closest to you and I think it is really awesome that we have a whole holiday dedicated just to giving thanks. I spent my Thanksgiving with a really amazing group of people. We made a lot of incredibly delicious food, listened to Christmas music, danced, played games, watched movies, and then (and this was my favorite part) we pulled out the sofa bed, piled up a ton of blankets and pillows and made the biggest, comfiest corner I have ever experienced in my young adult life. I've never been more comfortable! So to my friends, thank you for being there. These are not the easiest of times for the author of the comfy corner but I'm making it through because of you guys. It's nice to have people around to slap you when you start to get mopey. And to my family, I love you more than words can say and am thankful for everything you've given me.

So my advice to you all this holiday season: pull up the biggest pillow, a best friend, a good movie, and squeeze into that comfy corner. It's the best feeling in the world. :)

As my good bloggin' buddy Elise says...

Namaste

So no matter how modest some people may seem or how much they self deprecate and hate on themselves, everyone enjoys a good compliment now and then. It warms the heart like a nice piece of pie on a rainy day. I am proud to say that I thoroughly enjoy and thrive on compliments. When you are majoring in musical theatre, it is quite difficult to achieve a sincere compliment. All I hear every day is criticism and how I need to do things differently to get "better." That makes sense of course; that's why I'm paying so much money, but every now and then I just want to look at them and scream "LOVE ME!" It is so easy for criticism to beat down my ego and my self esteem, but it is also just as easy to boost it back up with a simple "Great job!"

The trouble with compliments, however, is how to deal with them once they are given to you. This is the hard part. The best example I can give in theatre it is the dreaded stage door routine. You walk past all of these people giving you compliments and you just smile and thank them and the conversation is over. They never have anything else to say, you never have anything else to say, so it gets awkward. You're both just standing there smiling and nodding. Or worse, no one even knows you were in the show, so you walk past crowds of people who are glancing at you wondering why you're there all alone wearing make up (While you're awkwardly looking around to see if you know anyone).

As a waiter, compliments are just as difficult to deal with. For instance, tonight I had a table who genuinely enjoyed my presence during their dinner so at the end of the meal one lady said to me, "So we came out here to have a leisurely dinner and you really accommodated that for us. Thank you." I should have just said, "You're welcome!" but instead I got all awkward about it and said, "Oh, well that's ... what my goal always is! I'm so... glad you had a good time!" ... I'm glad you had a good time?!?! It was dinner, not a trip to Disneyland. Moral of the story: when it comes to compliments, keep it simple, keep it short and you'll avoid awkward moments.

The more you live your life and the more you start to become cynical about it and complain about everything (like I'm slowly starting to do) the more you start to realize when you have become the person that you hate. I had this realization quite recently in a text message when I realized that I was starting every text with a "haha" and ending with a ":)" This is just too much after a while. It feels labored and insincere and I was doing it. "What's wrong with me?" I asked myself in desperation and then I started to think back on other instances when I become the person I hate.

1) When I'm eating out and everyone at the table including myself just gets a glass of water. (I hate it when people do this because it typically means they aren't there to spend a lot of money.)

2) When I'm the drunk bitch stumbling into New York Pizza at 2am asking for something ridiculous like buffalo wings.

3) When I'm the one that uses "there" incorrectly.

4) When I'm the one at the noisy, messy, obnoxious table.

5) When I'm standing alongside the drunk bitches on Boylston trying (hopelessly) to catch a cab.

6) When I'm the one who stands in front of the menu not able to decide what to eat and asking lots of obvious questions (does that come with sour cream?)

7) When I'm the one blocking the sidewalk, or standing in the walk side of a people mover, or holding up the line at the grocery store because one of my items didn't scan correctly...

Clearly, I could go on forever. But, this is a big wake-up call for me. I'm still going to be annoyed and complain about other people, but I'll always know that one day I will be that person. And knowing is understanding (or something like that).

I was in the "Laz Cafe" the other day (it's this amazing cafe right next to my apartment that makes anything you could possibly want and they deliver) when this crackhead walks in and loudly says "HEY! Whatch ya'll gots to eat roun' here?" The guy at the register didn't know how to respond. So the crackhead continued saying, "Ya'll gots some a dem wing dings?" The guy at the register said, "yeah, we do." So he was like "I want ten a dem. Well done." And as the guy was busy making his "wing dings, well done" he shouted "Yo, lemme have a salad too...'cept I don't want no lettuce, extra cucumbers, some onions, tomatoes, olives, cheese..." and then his voice kinda trailed away. Meanwhile, I'm just standing at the counter reading the menu trying to decide what I want. As I stood there watching this happen I thought about all of the annoying people I've had to deal with in my life that don't understand the concept of a menu.

In the restaurant I get so many people who sit down, I put a menu in front of them and they immediately say something along the lines of "I'd like an extra large pizza with mushrooms, onions, pepperoni, sausage, peppers, extra cheese...hey ya'll got anchovies?" to which I typically respond, "No, but we do have a menu. And we charge for extra toppings, so that's already gonna be like a twenty dollar pizza. And they only come in individual sizes, this isn't Papa John's."

It is frustrating beyond belief. Do people never go out to eat? And what possesses those people to suddenly walk into a mid range chain restaurant? And when they walk in, why do they act like they know exactly what they're doing when in fact they haven't the slightest clue? WE HAVE A MENU FOR A REASON! I just don't understand why anyone would walk into a restaurant to have dinner if they don't like what is offered on the menu. It doesn't make any sense. Modifications to what we have on the menu? Sure. But this isn't your momma's kitchen. We have rules.

Ever since I was just a wee Chang I have had quite a fascination with things that happen automatically for me. For instance, I would (and sometimes still do) pretend that I have sorcerer powers when I'm on the elevator and open the doors with my magic locomotus skills. I had a similar fascination with the motion sensor doors at grocery stores and drug stores. I would see how close I could get before the door would sense my presence and magically openly. I was always amazed at how I couldn't fool the doors. But now that my imagination is sadly being replaced with harsh bitterness toward the world I am growing to become increasingly frustrated instead of amazed with all things automatic, especially in the bathroom.

1) automatic sinks - the bane of my bathroom existence. I stand there in front of the sink waving my hands like a mad man and the sink shot guns little spurts of water out instead of a satisfying stream. As if some person could actually wash their hands in .5 seconds.

2) automatic hand dryers - don't actually dry your hands. i.e. frustrating. I do, however, like the crazy, high tech ones where you dip your hands in and slowly draw them out. Those are efficient. But my hands are still kinda wet.

3) automatic lights - these are especially annoying at Emerson College where I'm just sittin' on the toilet enjoying a nice poo when suddenly all of the lights turn off because I am apparently not moving enough to be a considerable presence that needs light. So I sit there flailing my arms until the lights return.

4) automatic toilets - always flushing before I'm done resulting in the dreaded wet bum. Not a happy thought. Frustrating to say the least.

So, I don't normally blog things that other people have written, but I just couldn't resist. Ina Garten is basically my hero and after reading this introduction to her cookbook over breakfast one morning, I couldn't resist but share it with all of you. This is exactly how I feel about comfy corners:

"I didn't always know how to make a home. It took time and lots of experimentation. Over the thirty-eight years we've been married, I've tried everything - the good, the bad, and the ugly. But, I've evolved a style that seems to work for me: big sofas for a nap on Sunday afternoon; great CDs piled up by the stereo; my favorite old videos next to the television. I like knowing that there are twenty new magazines on the coffee table, delicious French teas in the pantry, and expensive bath bubbles next to the tub. A good home should gather you up in its arms like a warm cashmere blanket, soothe your hurt feelings, and prepare you to go back out into that big bad world tomorrow all ready to fight the dragons.

I'm basically a nester. All day long, I feel as though I'm batting back the baseballs that are being hurled at me: decisions to make, places to go, cranky people to deal with...and when I come home, I want my house to feel serene and beautiful, like the way you feel when you get into a bed piled high with down pillows: you're safe."

I couldn't have said it any better Ina - down pillows, teas, bubbles, cashmere blankets - that is what the comfy corner is all about.

So, generally I don't respond well to changes in my cyber world. For instance, when Facebook got rid of the "See All Comments" button on photo albums, I almost had to sign up for rehab. And when Gmail completely changed its formatting, for about a month I clicked "contacts" every time I wanted to compose an email. I wanted to personally go to Google and strangle someone. But the newest addition to Facebook has fallen upon me with general agreement (and secret sheer joy).

There is a new button that allows you to see your entire history with the person you are stalking. This is actually an incredible feature. It reminds me of that moment in "Devil Wears Prada" where what's-her-face whispers into Meryl Streep's ear everything she needs to know about the person she is talking to. So all of my skeptical, republican change-hating comfy cornerers out there are probably wondering, "What's so great about it?" Well, I'll tell you!

I can now with the simple click of a button access an entirely new profile involving me (and, let's be realz, there is nothing I like more than gazing fondly at my own profile). It is complete with a random fun photo of me and the said person I am stalking (let's call him Henry, because no one knows anyone named Henry). And if there isn't a photo of me and Henry then it gives me a fun friendship goal ("Hey Henry! We should totes get drinks or something, because we don't have a single photo together! lolz"). Also, I can see what interests Henry and I share, the bands, the foods, the TV shows, I can quickly flit through all of the messages Henry and I have sent each other, I can track all of the photos we've been in together - essentially I can judge the quality of my friendship with Henry on this new feature! It's lovely. Thanks Facebook for renewing my faith in change. No thanks, Obama.

I often ponder how some phrases get coined and passed through the generations until we have things like "easy as pie" or "cold feet" or to "rub someone the wrong way." Like, these phrases make as much sense as Taylor Swift dating Jake Gyllenhaal (that is to say, not much sense...at all...he's like thirty). But I was recently witness to the coining of a brilliant new phrase that is definitely going to catch on a) because of its simplicity and b) because of its non-sensical nature. It all starts (as so many of my stories do) at the "Gourmet Dumpling House" or as I like to call it "the GDH."

Some cast mates and I decided to go to the GDH after a performance for beer and appetizers and beer. We were actually being the most obnoxious people in the world. We started playing this game where every ten minutes someone tells a ridiculous punch line (my favorite was "and then he said, those aren't horns, they're rocks") and we all burst out in uproarious laughter (alla how every Olive Garden commercial starts). We were just having a great time, but the manager was not so much. So as soon as the last dumpling left the plate, he rushed over with the bill. We all threw in our cash, but it didn't quite add up to what it should have been (as always) so my friend Brittany pulls a dollar out of her wallet slams it on the table and says "Make it a venti!" I thought for a moment that this was some cool, new phrase, but then I realized that it definitely wasn't, so I asked her about it.

Apparently, she had told my friend Anthony that he could just buy her a Starbucks coffee at some point in the future because she paid for his beer, and when she had to throw in another dollar, she just said "make it a venti." So now I know how these crazy phrases get started. Some third party hears something the wrong way, or misinterprets it and the misinterpretation catches fire. So now, every time I have to throw in an extra dollar, I'm gonna say "MAKE IT A VENTI!" (cue uproarious laughter).

My friend Julia and I have been on this kick where we keep imagining people taking things way too far and doing really implausible things. For instance, we were in New York recently and we were just having a generally awesome time when we started laughing uncontrollably at some not-that-funny joke and then Julia proposed the following scenario:

"What if Nathan just got so excited that he just smashed his beer bottle against the wall behind him and threw his body through the drywall and then I just took off and crashed through the window and flew out into outer space and the world then exploded into dust and all you could see was me flying toward the camera amongst the debris saying 'Goodbye world!'"

I then couldn't stop laughing for about ten minutes straight. I bring this up now because last night I found myself in a similar situation with Julia and every time I laughed I rolled onto the floor and she proposed yet another scenario:

"What if every time Chang laughed, even if it was just a little chuckle, he just started doing somersaults repeatedly until he crashed through the wall and he'd have to come back in every time."

Again, my abs are sore today from laughing so hard. Now, I can't help but imagine people on the T and in the grocery store just taking things one step too far and crashing beer bottles, doing somersaults or making the world exploding into dust. Oh, implausible situations.

So I suppose it is not unusual for an actor to have a set pre-show ritual that they go through before every performance. Perhaps it helps to be grounded or maybe it's just superstition of some sort (DON'T DRINK MILK BEFORE YOU SING!). I do not have any sort of pre-show ritual. I don't wear special underwear on opening night, I drink lots of milk all the time, and I'm pretty sure I've said "Macbeth" backstage before and nothing dramatic happened. There is a kid in the show I'm in now, though, Ethan, who has a pretty awesome pre-show ritual. He's 11, and he is going to be a star. This is what he told me:

"Well, as soon as I get home from school I do all of my homework really fast and, it must be fate or something, but I never get a lot of homework on opening nights. Then, I sit down and watch mindless stick figure violence videos on my computer for an hour." Ethan is really into making these awesomely violent stick figure videos "Then, I listen to my playlist and take a nap."

"Do you have a special playlist just for opening nights?"

"Duh, of course."

Ethan, you're great. And I'm pretty sure if I implemented this pre-show ritual into my daily life, I would be a more successful human being.

It seems to me that all the frowns get turned upside down in more than ways than one once the cold weather hits Boston. In the summer time in Boston it is not uncommon to see lots of beautiful people (including beautiful shirtless men running around the park with their little puppies, yes please) and families milling about enjoying the sunny weather and laughing whilst eating candy apples and sipping cranberry spritzers. But once that cold breeze descends upon the city and the sun hides it's bright face behind dark rain clouds, everything takes a turn for the worst. Especially - fashion.

In the summertime, people seem to make a point to shop for nice clothes and find things that are bright and interesting looking to wear. I saw a lot of cute skirts, nice shorts, brightly colored tanks, fancy sunglasses, fashionable flip flops, sporty running shoes etc. But the microsecond winter breathes its icy breath upon the city, everyone goes "fuck it" and they pull out whatever it takes to keep them warm no matter how ugly it is or how many fasion faux pas they are committing.

Luckily, there seems to me a mutual understanding among the citizens of Boston that no one needs to look good in the winter time. So I fully commit to this fashion philosophy and I throw on my most bland clothing every day of the week so that I can just keep the wind from touching my sensitive, Asian skin. I even have this crazy hood that covers my entire face except for my eyes. And I don't hesitate a minute putting it on. So, in the end, I think it's a good thing that fashion takes a turn for the worst, but it makes people-watching a lot less interesting. And that, I believe, is why I am ready to graduate.

Napping is one of the most frustrating things for me. I have 8am classes four days out of the week so I take regular naps during the day, but very rarely are they actually refreshingly perfect. i.e. On a scale of Khloe to Kim they're usually a Khloe. Here are some of my criteria for the perfect nap.

1) Must be under an hour - in my experience, if I sleep half an hour, I wake up refreshed and feeling like a million bucks. If I sleep an hour or more, I feel like Meryl Streep after she fell down the stairs in "Death Becomes Her."

2) Must be dark and quiet - too often have I tried to nap in the living room and just pass out while the television is on with my face buried in a pillow, but the television always infiltrates my dreams and some loud commercial always wakes me up and I get frustrated.

3) I MUST pee beforehand - this is hands down the most important criterion for a good nap. I have a bladder the size a needle head and if I don't pee before I nap, then I always, without fail, wake up like 10 minutes in, having to pee. And then I pee and can't get back to sleep.

4) Must be comfy - I go all out comfy corner at nap time. Sweatpants, sweatshirt (with the hood on) plethora of big pillows, blankets. I basically make a cocoon. (if you read "cocoon" backwards it kinda reads "nooooo" ... lolz)

5) I can't be hungry- basically for the same reason I have to pee beforehand. My stomach growling always wakes me up from my nap.

At work today, I look down at the floor and see these two silly bandz (I feel weird spelling bands with a "z") conveniently paired together. As far as Halloween goes, this is the scariest thing that happened to me all day. I had to take a picture, but I hope I didn't catch anything...

So after throwing a number of college parties and attending more than I probably remember I have reached some conclusions about how they usually flow at my apartment.

1) The Calm Before the Storm - this is the awkward time before anyone arrives when I'm sitting in my apartment with Vanessa and whoever helped decorate or clean up and we're usually already kinda wasted watching Food Network or "Reba."

2) The Excitement of the First Guest - We rush around, change the music, turn off the TV and cheer for them as they walk in. These are the lucky guests that actually get to enjoy the little bit of food that we are willing to contribute to the party.

3) The First Vomit - This usually happens pretty early in the night. It's the one person who gets a little overzealous with the shots and ends up hugging the toilet before the party really starts.

4) The Mysterious Disappearance - This is when everyone randomly disappears from the dance floor and ends up smoking in the back or just crowding into Vanessa's room.

5) The YouTube DJ / Raucous Dance Party- This is when people decide to abandon the evening's playlist and start playing the songs that they wanna listen to on YouTube. This typically ends with me saving the party, playing DJ, and everyone dancing up a storm.

6) The Beggars - the ones who forgot to bring snacks start begging us for our food. We turn them down and they walk away dejected. Some people go so far as to steal the food (these people are not invited back).

7) The Stragglers - After most people have left to catch the T, we sit on the couch (stoned out of our minds) and wait for the stragglers to leave so we can go to bed. We typically turn off the music and turn on the lights to get this process rollin'.

Alright, it has finally happened! I have made my first YouTube video ya'll! It's gonna be viral over night, I just know it. I feel it (and it was in my horoscope this morning). I decided to sing a song that I really connected with emotionally and sing it in a way that really brought out the lyrics. So I hope ya'll enjoy. NO HATERS! Here it is!

Things I love about fall that are just oh so comfy...

1) pumpkins and everything pumpkin flavored/scented...see pumpkin flavor craze
2) listening to Sam Tsui covers (that's year round actually)
3) soft blankets on the couch
4) sweatshirts again
5) cider and other warm (alcoholic) beverages
6) no more iced coffee cravings
7) cool breezes (not icy death breezes that make tears come out of your eyes)
8) piles of leaves with kids rolling around in them
9) cute families and their puppies (year round)
10) pies
11) the movies "Hocus Pocus" and "Halloweentown"
12) apple picking
13) sweatpants around the house
14) using my comforter again
15) cuddling
16) feel good fall flicks (like "Something's Gotta Give" or "Ten Things I Hate About You")

and finally...

17) COMFY CORNERS! (year round)

My friend Anthony and I were headed home after rehearsal and we were about to board the red line train headed towards Cambridge. The red line station at park street is set up so that you can board the train from both sides. Anthony and I were positioned across the tracks from this fiery redhead who was wearing a knee-length, red, fur lined leather coat (keep in mind that it is pretty toasty in the T station) and black stockings. She was listening to her iPod and she was full out irish step dancing with her eyes closed. She was not dancing for money, just for herself, and she was holding nothing back - elaborate kicks and turns with intricate arm and hand movements as well. She was sweating profusely. Anthony and I just stared at her in amazement (and made some discreet videos). Then the train arrived and she picked up her bag and prepared to get on the train as if nothing strange had happened at all. She was just waiting like everyone else.

As the train pulled in I turned to Anthony and said, "Man, I wish we were all so uninhibited that we could just full out dance at the train station." And then this girl comes up to me and says (with an attitude) "THAT'S VERY OBSERVANT OF YOU!" and boards the train. So there we were on the train now sitting across from this fiery red head dancer and this other random girl that basically yelled at me and...wait for it - they were both dancing in their seats. Both of them had their eyes closed, headphones in, working it out. We thought it was some sort of a flash mob or something, but only two women arrived. So I looked at Anthony. Anthony looked at me. We shrugged our shoulders and Anthony pulled out his headphones, we put on some Beyonce and we joined them.

After all, why shouldn't we be able to just dance to our heart's content whenever, wherever we want to? At least it's not as obtrusive as singing (poorly). The other people on the train were more confused than ever. The women across from us were flat out dieing of laughter. It's official, dancing can bring about nothing but happiness.

The awful, devil table I wrote about in Dear Table 27 returned last night (only this time, they insisted on sitting at table 25, the largest booth in the restaurant typically reserved for parties of 6 or 8 but they were a party of 4, but they were all so fat, they could have been 8...so I guess that's okay). This is how it went down:

1) They ate two entire loaves of bread and butter (we typically give each guest 1 slice)
2) They polished off their avocado egg rolls in the time it took me to refill one of their drinks
3) They informed me that they were still hungry after the three pizzas they ate and that they weren't as big as I made them think it would be (I told them the exact number of inches each pizza would be, we are a corporation, we measure our pizzas to a tee...bitch)
4) All the women (even the little girl) were so fat that their boobs were on the table.
5) They then ordered a pasta
6) They then ordered a brownie sundae
7) They then asked for more bread and refills
8) They then informed me that they felt rushed, they thought that the girl should have gotten her drink for free because she was a "kid" (That's a stretch, she is a BIG kid. AND she had THREE REFILLS of her adult size drink. That's cause to charge you for an adult drink), and that I deceived them into making them think the pizzas were bigger, so they wanted it all comped.

Here is what I did. She handed me a twenty (the bill was 66) and said to take that off and see where the bill was then. I looked at the bill and said "It'll be 46." She said, "Well, we felt rushed. People should be able to stay in a restaurant at least an hour after close and not feel rushed." (they were there an hour after close). "So why don't you see if you're feeling nice and do something about the bill." I said "fine" and I threw the bill on the ground, printed out a receipt for 46 dollars, handed it to her and said "this is how much you owe. Have a great night."

They were short 10 dollars on the bill. They almost made cry, I was actually fuming. The manager informed me that they were no longer welcome in the restaurant. Why are there people like this in the world?! It is so horrible that anyone would go out there and just make some poor waiter's life absolutely miserable just because you are a cheap bastard. If you can't afford the food DON'T EAT HERE!!! ARGH, she is such a heinous, severely overweight BITCH. If you are reading this, never return. If you do, I will personally tell you to leave immediately, hand you your receipt from last night and threaten to call the police.

Ya'll have a nice day

Yesterday, I found myself being incredibly distracted in my psychology class because the guy next to me was legit snoring. It's gonna happen of course - I have found myself in a myriad of boring classes that conveniently prefer to meet at 8am. So I have discovered ways to distract myself...

1) DOING OTHER WORK- the best thing about being in a painfully dull class is that this is often a good time to get work done that you wouldn't have time to do otherwise. For instance, I spend this time memorizing lines, journaling, or working on scripts.

2) TEXTING - Our technological world has brought about a whole new set of classroom distractions. And phones nowadays can do everything. So, I text (Chris is always up that early), I Tweet, I Facebook, and I brainstorm awesome blog entries (like this one).

3) WINDOWS - If you are fortunate, you will have a window in your classroom. This opens up a whole world for daydreaming. You can people watch, you can look at the birds, admire the changing of the leaves, watch the clouds move and just generally detach yourself from the boredom of class.

4) BECOMING OBSESSIVE OVER YOUR NAILS - This is something that I resort to a lot. I clean my nails and I judge the quality and dryness of my hands. They are, after all, always right there in front of me.

5) DOODLING - This is a big one for me. I can literally look back through my notes and find a direct correlation between the amount of doodles and the dullness of the class. I found myself doodling a legit masterpiece on the borders of my paper the other day, this is a telling sign.

6) SLEEPING - If worst comes to worst, this is always an option. I try to avoid it, but sometimes it's too tempting. I typically try to be discreet about it, though. One time I fell asleep in a math class and I literally heard the "Hallelujah Chorus" playing full blast in my dreams. Another telling sign (that I'm a huge nerd).

7) PLANNING AND LIST-MAKING - If you couldn't tell, I love making lists, so when a class gets dull, I make lists. It makes me feel like I'm being productive, even when I'm really not.

I ended up having to wake up the guy beside me before the snoring got outta hand...

So I just got back from the most incredible trip to NYC. The trip was incredibly inspirational on many levels. I learned that I belong nowhere else in my life but in that city. So let's hit the highlights.

1) THE ROADTRIP- It was very telling that it took me seven and a half hours to get to NYC and three hours to get back. What does this tell me, you ask? It tells me that everyone is trying to get out of Boston and no one wants to leave NYC. Literally, it took me two and a half hours just to get out of this city...thank God I had my good friends Miley, Whitney, Mariah, and Beyonce to keep me sane and bouncing around in my car like a crazy person. I get the weirdest looks from people when I'm driving because I shamelessly sing and dance (dangerous? perhaps, but not as bad as TEXTING!). And on the trip back I had my amazing classmates singing horribly in my ear: bliss.

2)BEDS (ON FIRE)- I'm going to use the theme of "beds on fire" to describe my time in NYC. I witnessed the best performance I've ever seen on a Broadway stage: Bernadatte Peters singing "Send in the Clowns" in A Little Night Music (She was sitting on a bed and she was "on fire"...there's your theme). I cried - not because of the plot, but simply because I loved it so much and I felt an incredible energy and a fire (there's more theme) in my heart to come to New York and do this forever and ever. I also saw the worst Broadway performance of my life in the same weekend: Five Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. I can't be too harsh because it was only their third run through, but let's be real: strug city. They lit a bed on fire, though, (theme) which was cool. And I got to see Patti Lupone, Sherie Renee Scott, Laura Benanti, and Brian Stokes Mitchell on stage at the same time, which was also cool.

In general, the weekend was all about bowls, booze, beds, and Broadway. I was with friends, I was seeing theatre, I was drinking a lot, had some recreational anesthesia and I was having a blast. Can there be anything that is telling me not to flee to New York as soon as I can? I think not.

It happens every year I suppose, but for some reason, I feel like the pumpkin-flavor craze is especially palpable this year. Everywhere I look I see pumpkin flavored this, pumpkin flavored that; everyone I talk to is saying something along the lines of "Oh my god, I LOVE pumpkin cheesecake."; and Dunkin Donuts is getting the most business it has ever gotten because of their take-me-to-heaven-and-bathe-me-in-pumpkin-syrup-because-you-are-so-good pumpkin doughnut and their own brand new version of the pumpkin latte (TAKE THAT STARBUCKS).

I talk as if I am an observer looking in...but in fact I am part of the craze. I LOVE IT!! Nothing is comfier than a pumpkin spice latte and my big hoodie. I am the reason why Dunkin runs out of their pumpkin doughnuts by noon. Perhaps that's why the craze seems so apparent to me? What doesn't help is that I work at a restaurant that purportedly serves the most heavenly pumpkin cheesecake in town. I have yet to try it (I fear for my metabolism, gotta keep up that Broadway body - and pumpkin doughnuts don't count). The moral of the story: we crave anything that tells us that the season is changing. We do not like to get stuck in ruts. When it's summer we long for snow, when it's snowing we long for just one summery day. We are in a constant state of discontent, so when pumpkin flavor comes around it is a signal of change. It means sweaters again, long pants, Halloween, gaining weight, holidays, and pretty leaves. Tis the season ya'll, eat up that artificial flavoring while it's here.

I often find myself staring blankly at my Facebook profile trying to think of the perfect way to describe my current mood or situation. The problem is this: usually I update my status when I find myself with some time to kill. And when I have time to kill, I am not really doing anything, so my status when searching for a status is typically "searching for a status." But I can't put that down, so I have to come up with some sort of clever anecdote or phrase to put out there. It's a bigger deal than it should be for me because my status on Facebook is posted right there beside my name and my picture. So every status I choose is out there for a world of people to make judgments on me. Also, I face the problem of negotiating statuses between social networking sites. Here is my basic rule of thumb...

1) Facebook - status can be fairly insignificant but must have some sort of clever twist. "Just went grocery shopping and the hottie at the register gave me his number." or something like that. It's gotta have an angle, if only a small one.

2) Twitter - Must be significant. Must be clever. Must evoke some sort of catharsis from the reader. Must provide some sort of insight on life. "'Hahah' = I genuinely think what you said is funny / 'Hahaha' = I'm just placating you" (compliments of JDuboff)

3) Gchat status - should be a big, overarching status that sums up your life situation at the moment "Tis the year of bowls, booze and Broadway"

I see a lot of grumpy, unhappy people passing through the restaurant. I waited on a guy yesterday who sat down, I came right up to him and took his order and two minutes later I saw him talking to the host and he ended up moving to sit on the other side of the restaurant. I went up to him and said, "Too cold up there, eh?" because I knew several people were complaining about the temperature. And he took several sharp intakes of breath (like it was the Arctic circle up there or something), grabbed his chest and said, "The service here is terrible. How are you supposed to see me with that wall right there? And you never brought me my bread and butter." As if I had been ignoring him for hours! He had just sat down!

I wanted to say, "You need to calm down, sir. I have absolutely no control over the architectural design of this restaurant and you didn't order bread and butter. You are my only table and I just got here and I would remember if you ordered bread and butter." But I all I said was "Yes, sir." And I made it a point to be extra nice to him for the rest of his meal because ya know what, sir? Life is far to short to be grumpy. As the Dalai Lama said "Happiness is not ready made. It comes from your own actions." In other words, it is something that needs to be worked towards and I'm working for it because I choose happiness, I choose confidence, I choose smiling.

1) When I am sitting next to someone on the bus or train and I wanna look at them or see what they're reading or texting but I know it'd be super awkward if I did.

2) When I am caught walking behind a smoker. Or if I am just caught walking behind a slow person.

3) When people are standing in front of exactly what I need at the grocery store and I either have to reach around them or ask them to move. I always pull the whole, "Oh I'm just browsing around the stuff right in front of you" move.

4) When I pour a bowl of cereal and then realize the milk is bad.

5) When a DVD starts skipping at the most pivotal point in the movie.

So I am not one that deals with changes very well. Of course, I get used to them and then don't remember what my life was like before them but whatever, it's still very disorienting when major things in my life change. For instance, Itunes recently changed its icon on my desktop...that threw me for a loop. And Gmail recently made some format changes and now I always click on the wrong buttons thinking they are the ones that used to be there. Finally, Facebook is always changing and this has caused me some real stress of late.

I liked the format where you could see all of the events you were invited to on one page, but now the events are all listed in one tiny little box on the edge of the screen and I forget that they are there. So last night I had some extra time to kill on Facebook, and I realized that I had a large number of events that I hadn't reconciled. So I had to go through every single one and select attending, not or maybe. This was an unreasonably stressful time for me. Especially since many of the events were for things like breast cancer, or mission trips, or gay rights, things that I want to support but can't, don't have the time, or I'm too lazy or poor! So here is what I normally do:

1) If it's not applicable to me at all, I click not attending and call it a day.
2) If it's not applicable to me but it's for a good cause, but I know I can't go, I'll click maybe attending.
3) If it's applicable to me, but I can't go and I know it's a good cause, I'll click not attending and write on the wall why I can't attend.
4) Sometimes, though, if it's for something that I could potentially attend, but I don't want to go because I'm lazy, but I should go because it's for cancer or something, I'll just click Attending and not go...

This last one fills me with so much guilt. STOP MAKING ME GUILTY FACEBOOK!

I am fortunate enough to live in the up and coming South End of Boston. I say "up and coming" because the area used to be super-duper sketch but then the gays moved in and made everything a little more...well, gay! Unfortunately, though, the gayness hasn't quite reached my apartment. I live right on the line between yuppie and scary. So I hear a lot of public domestic disputes outside my window ("Gimme mah phone, bitch!") but I can also walk less than a block to the nicest Spanish tapas restaurant in Boston.

This is all to preface a thought I had as I left my apartment the other day. I love the mornings and I love stepping outside my apartment and breathing in that first breath of morning air. The morning air where I live, though, is very different from the morning air where Chris lives, in Cambridge. When I leave Chris' apartment in the mornings there are birds chirping, people walking their dogs, people jogging, business people shuffling off to work etc. When I leave my apartment there are cars honking, pollution floating, homeless people screaming at each other, and buses roaring by. I immediately feel like I need to take another shower when I leave my apartment.

I suppose both types of morning air have their appeal. Sometimes, it's kinda nice to just be hit in the face with the dirt and bustle of city life first thing in the morning, but every now and then, I just want to walk out to morning air that is a little more...gay.

These signs are posted all over the Emerson bathrooms. I have a very strong urge to make a sign to put right next to it that says "Got Nubs? Kill Yourself."

You'd think when you come to college that all of your professors are going to be really amazing, smart people and awesome teachers. Unfortunately, that is the rudest awakening of all. Some of them are of course, but many professors simply lack basic teaching skills. They are just knowledgeable in their particular field of study (most of them) but they don't know how to best convey that information. Here are some personal examples of great ways to lose a student's trust/respect:

1) Trying to act cool by "connecting" with your students in awkward ways. For instance, constantly making weird jokes about sex and college hook-ups (and assuming everyone will find it funny). You really gotta earn a group's trust and respect before something like this becomes funny.

2) Trying to remember the names of all of your students when you have zero talent for remembering names. You'll just end up making a fool of yourself - "Ummm...are you Zach?" "No." "Oh, what's your name, again?"

3) Trying to do a PowerPoint presentation or show a film or something without coming in early and figuring out how the technology works ("Oh, I need a password?") This is a biggie. It always ends with some student awkwardly having to get up and show the teacher how everything works.

4) Making slides with a dark blue background and black font, then asking if anyone can read it (or writing on the board with a yellow marker).

5) Not knowing how to pronounce all of the words you typed in your PowerPoint or constantly stumbling over words like "heredity."

6) General unpreparedness. This means not forgetting the tests at home, not taking 3 months to grade a paper, not saying "um" a lot and forgetting what you were talking about.

7) Finally, and this is the best way to lose respect, saying things like "You all know this stuff better than I do." "I'm not an expert on this." or "It's really complicated, I don't know all the details."

You always read about internet scams but you never expect to become a part of one. I recently fell victim to one of these fraudulent hooplas in the most unexpected of ways...

I was purchasing my "Shakespeare Glossary" by C.T. Onions on Amazon, the book that my professor LaFeber (He's got La "Feber") said I will undoubtedly use for the rest of my life. I was quite excited to receive this book (I love glossaries! It's like one big organized list!). I sat on the stoop for weeks just waiting for the UPS man to arrive (at least, that's how I remember it). But, when I finally tore open the packaging and flipped through the pages I was greeted with utter confusion of numbers and weirdly worded phrases.

I immediately got discouraged by the book thinking that it was just some highly academic enigma that would take me years of training to understand. But, the other day in class, Anthony brought out the same copy of the book and said it was an internet scam that was made by some computer-robot scanning machine or something. When I got home I took a closer look at some of the definitions. Here are some examples from one random page in this large book of gems:

1) Music - NATUBE hares habituatlly pass, or run, when hunted, for relief

2) Minnock -(?)onewhoapesorfoolsabout MND. HI. ii. 19

3) M. isg'overnm (S.): fig. evil conduct

And my favorite:

4) m, isplace (not pre-S. in any sense): to use words in a wrong place

I know Shakespeare is likeaforeignlanguage, but com,e on: (?)

So, as promised, I got the picture. Does this make me a super duper creeper? Probably. She came back to the restaurant (she's starting to become something of a regular, probably because she likes me so much) and I finally built up the courage to ask for a pic. :) I gave her a discount in return. I also got her email (creeper...)...

It was an eventful evening! Everyone was all atwitter over the fact that Elphaba was eating there (most of our business comes from the theatre). I also got my first "call-me" message with a bill. There was a family sitting right across from Elphaba. The son was a cute, clearly-gay boy, who was giving me eyes every time I went to the table. Sure enough, when I picked up the bill he left his name and number on a napkin and wrote "Call me :)" Pretty gutsy to do that when your family is sitting there. I won't call you Kyle, because I'm taken, but I'm flattered. :)

I'm a bit of a crazy person when it comes to meeting celebrities. In my mind, I always picture myself coolly walking up to them and striking up a really casual/intellectual conversation about their work or whatever, but it usually ends up with me saying something really weird and unrelated like "You have great legs!"

This is all to preface a celebrity run-in I had the other day at work. I went up to the host stand and the host was like "The witch from Wicked is here somewhere!" I started jumping up and down like the birds of paradise or something. The hit Broadway musical, Wicked (The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz), is making a two month residency in Boston and everyone at work knows that I'm kind of obsessive and crazy about everything musical-related, so they all got really excited for me, but I couldn't seem to find her anywhere. I resorted to the fact that she probably just got take-out or something (Elphaba has a busy life after all!). But then, all my dreams came true.

I walked up to my next table and sure enough, there she was, green paint skirting the edges of her faces and black fingernails. My heart skipped several beats and I was like "So...you're in Wicked?" (DUH!!!). She was like, "Uh, yeah." And then I turned into a bumbling idiot saying things like "I've seen Wicked like four times and you're the best Elphaba ever!" I kept unnecessarily refilling her water, joining in on their conversation ("Yeah, what crazy weather! So randomly cold, OMG!") and when she left I slipped in a cutsie little, "Break a leg!" just to show off my theatre-saviness.

I had heard rumors that she wasn't a very nice person, but I'll be the first to say that she was very nice (putting up with all my weirdness ) and she tipped well. She did have crazy eyes...but I guess anyone would if they had to belt high G's suspended 30 feet in the air 8 times a week. My only regret is that I didn't get a picture with her to share with all of you. I might make that my project for the next month. Stay tuned for that one. :)

The best part about being a minority is that you are free and able to make jokes about the particular minority you belong to without having to look around first. For instance, I feel perfectly comfortable going up to tables at work and saying (In all seriousness) "Did you order the dumpring?" Or, if I make a bad driving move, I just blame it on my Asian-ness. Or if I figure out how to make the CD player switch to the auxiliary in class, I just say, "This is why every class needs an Asian." In general, I pull out the Asian jokes as often as I can. This is also why I can post pictures like this and make fun of the Boston Asians.


I literally snapped this pic 10 minutes ago as I was thinking to myself, "Wow, every Asian in the Chinatown/New England Medical Center area of Boston is carrying a pink bag." And then, sure enough, one passed by. Right after this guy passed by, I saw three or four Asian ladies with shopping carts filled with these pink bags. Apparently, they all shop at the same grocery store. Perhaps, I need to stop shopping at Trader Joe's?

The moral of the story is this - I'm usually down for any sort of Asian joke unless it becomes malicious. For instance, there was a guy in the show I was just in that point blank said to me, "It's so funny with you Asians, cause you never can tell how old you are." I was actually offended by both the comment and the smell (he smelled really bad). But that was followed by a perfectly harmless joke from another man that didn't smell bad at all, "What happens when you spin an Oriental around three times? He gets disoriented." Puns are okay, I suppose. Just avoid calling me Ching-Chang-Chong and we'll get along fine.

I have three pet peeves that must be addressed. Two of them came up at the same incident.

1) I hate it when restaurants lead you to believe they have something, but they actually don't - This morning I visited a small breakfast place in Cambridge called "The Biscuit." I was excited to visit for two reasons: 1. I love biscuits and the title of the restaurant would suggest that had a good one and 2. it seemed like a really popular place because people were lined up out the door. When I got inside, however, I didn't see anything on the menu that even looked breakfast related. So when I (finally) got to the register I asked the woman, "Do you have any biscuits or breakfast-related foods?" And she blankly replied that they have what's on the menu and what's on display (duh.) Then she followed that with, "The closest thing we have to a biscuit is our scones." Girl, please. I'm from the South, I used to make buttermilk biscuits for fun, you can't tell me any scone is going to go around disguised as a biscuit. I will not be returning to "The Biscuit" which should be named "The Scone."

2) I hate it when people feel entitled to do rude things - At "The Biscuit" this woman decided to squeeze her stroller right in front of us in the line, blatantly cutting. Chris and I looked at each other confused. Then she started shaking her head and complaining TO US about how busy it was. Then, a different woman was working at her computer and she looked disapprovingly at the open door and said to me (and I didn't even open the door), "Would you close that door?" with a 'tude as if I was the doorman or something! I'm sorry lady, but if you want something done, get up and do it yourself. And it was a perfectly beautiful, legitimate day to have the door open. Some people...

3) I hate it when people make me feel stupid, when they are actually the stupid ones - I was at a parking garage recently and I asked the guy at the counter what the monthly rates were and he said there was a sign around the corner. I responded "Great, I have another question for you..." but he cut me off and said "I said, it's around the corner." I said, "I know, thanks, but I wanted to ask..." Then he got frustrated and came around and pointed more directly to where the sign was. I lost it, it had been a rough day to begin with, so I walked over to the sign, put my finger on it and said, "I KNOW! I SEE THE SIGN! I HAVE A DIFFERENT QUESTION FOR YOU!" Again, some people.

I have a bit of a confession to make. I used to pride myself on leading a very healthy lifestyle. I stayed away from caffeine, I got eight hours of sleep every night, I cleaned my room semi-regularly, I would go on random little diets just to test my will power (no bread this month!, No Artificial Sugars for a week!) etc. This summer, however, has proved to turn all of those things upside down. Perhaps being in a relationship has brought out some innate laziness or something, but I have been to the grocery store once this summer (!). The rest of my food was either bought in restaurants, at fast food places or I just ate my employee meal at work (and let's just say - I don't work at the healthiest restaurant).

To add to the unhealthiness, I started to make a habit of getting breakfast at Starbucks every morning, to the point where I no longer have to pay for my venti (that's right, venti), sweetened (that right, sweetened) iced coffee (with half and half) and I no longer actually have to order. The other day though I ordered my venti and the woman who knows me all too well looked at me and said, "Would you like to try our new, bigger size, the Trenta." And out of nowhere she pulled out this mammoth cup that made the venti look like a tall. My mouth dropped when she showed me the cup. It was like a "double gulp" at 7-11. Thank god I said no. But this is what America has come to. America is a big, fat distracted baby, and venti is no longer big enough. Sad day, America, sad day.

I waited on some British people tonight that absolutely made me sick. They came in with a 20 percent off coupon for their meal which I applied to the meal, no problem. But then, their pasta came out too soon after their appetizer and the woman complained about it being cold. This isn't all too uncommon, we simply reheated the pasta for her and gave it back, easy fix. But at the end of the meal, they decided that they should be compensated for all of their suffering. They wanted something done to the bill. I sighed and took the matter to the manager, who then graciously comped all of their food (so they only had to pay for the wine and beer they ordered and their appetizer). They took one look at this severely reduced bill and said, "What happened to the 20% off?" So I took it back and we took 20% off of the remaining food on the bill (the coupon only applied to food). They got a whopping 2 more dollars off of their bill. They then started to complain about how the discount didn't apply to alcohol. My manager very kindly explained the rules and they called him a bitch and left without tipping me a penny.

This whole situation made me really sad for humankind. Why are there people out there like this? Needless to say, they made me feel really upset. The other servers could tell how upset I was and one of them asked me if this was my first serving job. I said yes and he said "Yeah, when I worked my first serving job I used to wake up in the middle of the night sweating thinking that I forgot to run someone's food or something." This is absolutely true. Ever since I've started waiting tables I have had several stress dreams about forgetting to ring in orders, food running late etc. It is a stressful job and I think more people out there need to realize that it isn't as easy as you think.

This is what I see every morning when I walk out of my door. Isn't that a nice way to start the day?

So I was recently balled up into a pile of plush pillows in the corner of my bed when my mind began to reach back to a time long ago when my fascination with comfy corners began. If you all want to know how I originally came up with the title for my blog, you can find it here. But, I just realized that the history goes back much farther.

When I was a kid, I wanted to live underground. I envied animals that burrowed, like mice and groundhogs, because I imagined them to be so incredibly comfy in their little underground nooks, storing away nuts and decorating with leaves and small twigs. I stared longingly at my hamsters in their cages (I loved hamsters) as they burrowed their little bodies into the bedding and napped all day. I think, if memory serves me correctly, I even started to dig a hole in my back yard (a hole...to live in?) but I quickly hit a bunch of rocks and I was too fat and lazy to continue. So alas, all I could do was dream.

Also, I had two blankies growing up and two stuffed animals named Smooch and Snuggles. I had others, but they were the only two that mattered. Every night I would curl into bed with Smooch, Snuggles, and my blankies and I would ball up my yellow blankie and burrow my hand into the folds of the fabric. I just liked the way it felt. So cool and soft on my hand. Today, I no longer sleep with those old friends (I sleep with new friends!), but I never pass up an opportunity to feel a soft fabric, or curl up into a ball in a corner with pillows. I crave winter just so that I can where my hoodie. So, I suppose the moral of the story is that while we can change what we do quite drastically, we can never change who we are at our core.

So I had a strug today that probably out-strugged my struggest strugs all summer. My friend Anthony left a bottle of whiskey in my car (we had made a trip to New Hampshire where there is no sales tax on liquor, and when in Rome, right?) so, like a good friend, I thought that I would get it out of my trunk and bring it to him. Only trouble was, I was going to have to carry it while I was biking. I have a basket on the back of my bike, so I thought, "No problem, I'll just put it in the basket."

At first, there wasn't any problem. I successfully biked to the diner where I had a lovely strug-free breakfast (with this giant bottle of whiskey sitting right next to my chair. After all, I couldn't leave it with my bike! Homeless people don't mess around with free alcohol.), and then, after I left the diner, I attempted to re-mount my bicycle. I put the bottle in the basket, I threw my bag over my shoulder, I threw my leg over my bike and then the worst thing happened - the basket fell off the back of my bike and the whiskey fell to the concrete. All of this happened in front of Toro, the most hoppin', people-packed tapas restaurant in town. Everyone was pointing at me and staring at me and laughing cruel laughs (that's how I remembered it anyways). I could see there eyes just judging and questioning my every move "Why is the young man carrying around a big bottle of whiskey at noon?" Amazingly, the bottle didn't break, but the cork did come out and as I was struggling to get off my bike and run around it to put down the kick stand, expensive liquor was pouring out onto the hot pavement. All I can hope is that some dog or some desperate homeless man was able to drink it up before it evaporated.

I finally got the bottle up, corked it, and put it more securely in the basket and successfully mounted the bike without another spill. As soon as I biked a few meters, however, I realized that I left my bike lock lying on the ground of the crime scene. I went back to whiskey puddle and the cruel laughter and picked up the lock. When I looked at the patio of Toro, everyone was looking at me. The air reeked of hot whiskey, my hands reeked of hot whiskey, my face...reeked of shame. I got the bottle to campus only to realize that I wasn't allowed to bring a huge bottle of whiskey into the dorms (I stupidly forgot that was a rule...) I handed off the bottle to Vanessa who was heading back to her apartment and I accepted my defeat...I had failed. Anthony, if he ever gets his whiskey back, will not be getting much back.

So, it is common knowledge in the restaurant business that the foreigners who walk in probably won't tip. As a result, we have taken to racially profiling people as soon as they walk through the door. If they speak English fluently, then odds are probably in our favor. If they seat themselves and look around the restaurant confused and then order one glass of water to share between the four of them - things are looking bad.

That is all preface to the story of this one woman who walked in alone. Her name was Cecilia. She spoke about as much English as I speak Spanish (which is to say, very very little). She ordered a pasta and didn't want anything to drink (always a bad sign). After I said one tiny little thing in Spanish to her (Esta bien?), I was trapped. She rattled away all of this Spanish that I didn't understand and before I knew it I was holding her iPhone taking pictures of her. I took one candid shot of her eating her pasta (it was for her mother...I think), and then I took another picture sitting down at an adjacent booth (all at her very specific request). In the middle of the photo shoot she stopped our busser, Milena, and said something along the lines of "I saw you last night, I was eating at the bar." Milena had never seen this woman before, ever. And then, before I could stop her, she took the camera and insisted that she take a picture of me. I posed super-awkwardly and she snapped the pic. She said something along the lines of me being more attractive in person than I am in the picture. She wanted to take more pictures of me but I insisted that the one picture was good enough and then she insisted that she email the picture to me (!). I put in my email address and now I have immortalized the memory. Perhaps I should have put in a fake email, but I kinda wanted the picture and the memory. Cecilia, the strange woman that came in and acted like she was my best friend and then walked away without tipping, I will never forget you.

Things that hurt, but we do them anyway. Oftentimes we do these things because the aftereffects are totally worth it. Or we do them because it's pleasureful at the time but we know we'll have to suffer the consequences later. Warning: some of these may apply only to me.

1) Listerine - It burns oh so good and the refreshing aftereffect is totally worth the pain.

2) Scratching bug bites - We know that scratching only makes it worse, but we do it anyway because it feels orgasmic.

3) Going to the gym - For some reason we like to torture ourselves. We sweat and burn and our heart hurts and we get pains in our sides and we get cramps and we are sore for the next week, but our doctor tells us we should do this 5 times a week. And we do it and we get addicted.

4) Plucking hair - We pluck because we care. We care so much in fact that we will rip the protein out of our bodies, making us tear up a bit and leaving a red mark (and sometimes drawing blood).

5) Popping pimples - It hurts, research shows it isn't good, but we do it anyway.

6) Holding in pee just to feel the release - Sometimes when I'm at work and I have to pee, I'll wait until the last possible moment just so I can feel the release. Just me?

7) Anal sex - ouch.

8) Poking bruises and injuries - We know it'll hurt, but for some reason we are fascinated with our wounds. Perhaps it is our way of making sure everything is still working correctly.

9) Going to see bad musical theatre - Probably one of the most painful/fulfilling things on this list thus far. Sometimes you just crave meaningless belting, Andrew Lloyd Webber awfulness, and sparkly costumes.

10) Drinking heavily - Despite the horrible hangover, the puking, the poor decisions, the black outs, the accidental skull and cross-bones tattoos on our faces, we still get drunk the next night.

Blogging to you live from New York City folks! I always seem to end up back in this city, and every time I visit, I am filled with inspiration and renewed vigor for life and art. It's like the collective creativity and talent crammed onto this little island is just seeping into my pores. I can't wait to move here after I graduate (that is, as long as I do actually graduate).

So, the best thing about having a large network of friends in NYC is that I never have to find a hotel when I visit. I can always just crash on someone's couch. So for this particular trip, Chris and I decided to crash on his friend Drew's couch. It was a very kind gesture on Drew's part, so naturally I felt obligated to get him some sort of gift, although I didn't have a clue what it would be (me being on a very tight budget and all). But, as Chris and I were walking toward his apartment, my prayers were answered. Sitting on the side of the street was a knee-high, stuffed horse mounted on a wooden stand with wheels - and there was a sign attached to it that said "Take Me!" So, naturally, I took him and decided that this would be the perfect "Thanks for letting me stay in your apartment" gift.

As I was walking down the street with my new horse, however, the worst possible thing that could have happened, happened. We passed by a mother sitting on a stoop with her little girl and her little boy. The little girl took one look at my new horse, dropped her jaw and looked directly into my eyes with the most pitiful, disgusted and horrified look I have ever seen on a human face. The look said "That was supposed to be my horse! You bastard..." Sure enough, after we passed her, I looked back and saw her running up the sidewalk to look at the empty spot where the horse had previously been. Now, I have a little knot of guilt growing in my stomach. We had taken this toy, that could have been enjoyed by this little girl for the rest of her childhood, perhaps she would have passed it down through the generations as a family heirloom, it would have a permanent spot in the playroom next to the fireplace, all of her kids would have pictures with it, and we used it as a joke thank-you (we ended up putting the horse in his bathtub with a bottle of beer. Drew found it this morning). I feel despicable, but it was so worth the laughs.

Okay, comfy cornerers, I know that I try to keep posts light and fun, but sometimes, life is serious (very rarely, though). I have a couple pearls of wisdom I have come upon due to recent experiences that I thought I might share with all of you so that you may take it out into the world and make some changes for the better. Hopefully Heidi Montag is reading this (through her tears of sorrow over the death of her plastic surgeon, aka a death in the family...too soon?).

So I have come to realize that everything happens for a reason and thus we should never take anything for granted. Inspiration can come from the most unexpected of places. For instance, I sometimes get inspired to eat a healthy salad and go to the gym after watching an overweight man order two butter cakes for himself. Or I am inspired (or guilt tripped) into going to more dance classes after seeing an amazing dancer. Sometimes, however, it is difficult to find the good in certain situations. For example, I have been working at the this gym in Boston for about a year now. I opened the gym three times a week promptly at 5:30am. It is early, it is boring, I hate it. And today, I was folding the 578th towel of the day thinking mixed thoughts of suicide and quitting the job for good, when the fitness manager came up to chat. He asked me what I did and I told him that I went to Emerson College for musical theatre. He replied, "Stop, drop and roll!" An odd response, but I decided to hear him out. Turns out he graduated with a BFA in Musical Theatre from Carnegie Mellon, one of the most prestigious MT conservatories in the country. He went to school with Sutton Foster and Billy Porter! He did a European tour of "42nd Street" and did the West Coast premiere of "This is our Youth." So we ended up having a two hour conversation about the business and my plans post graduation. The conversation ended with him saying "We are not finished here. We have a year to get you in shape. I wanna see your material, we need to get you working out and we are going to get you a job in NYC. No excuses." So after a year of opening this gym with bleary eyes, drinking lots of coffee and folding lots of towels, I finally found out the reason why I was there. I found a mentor of sorts!

So comfy cornerers, I have this to say: sometimes it is worth suffering the bad to reap the benefits that result. The good will eventually reveal itself. After all, we can't truly appreciate the pleasures in life without first being without them. As that dude says in "Eat, Pray, Love" - "Why won't you give me the chance to miss you?"

Strugging is a slippery slope, folks. I came to this realization when I was reading E-Strugs (a blog created by my friend Elise that is solely devoted to her daily life struggles). And her latest post made me realize that everyone has strugs when they are in the airport (Unless you are the guy from "Up In the Air"). The place just reeks of struggles. For one, you are typically carrying a million bags, which makes it nearly impossible to get easy access to your wallet or phone without putting down all of your bags (which subsequently get in the way of other people trying to walk). And as luck would have it, the airport is the one place when you actually need to have easy access to your phone and wallet multiple times during your visit (ID, flight confirmation number, paying for that Starbucks or the "I Heart Detroit" shirt, or the plush neck pillow with blanket). And then, flights are always being delayed or cancelled or un-delayed or un-canceled so you either have boatloads of time to kill, or you are sprinting (with your millions of bags, holding your phone and your Starbucks).

And then there is the issue of going to the bathroom. Where do you put all of your stuff while you do your business? On the floor? With the fecal matter? I'll not reveal what I do in this situation, but simply say that it is a struggle.

And of course their is the issue of getting through security. Do you get behind the family with the stroller and have plenty of time to undress and unpack your laptop or do you get behind the speedy Asians and feel pressured to do everything super fast.

So after you struggled at the ticket counter finding your ID, fumbled at security trying to undress quickly, almost dropped your phone in the toilet, couldn't remember where you put your wallet at the Starbucks line, and had your flight delayed 4 different times - all of the little strugs start to arise and become all the more irksome: can't remember which pocket you put your ticket/phone/wallet in, internet won't connect, Ipod battery is low, you spilled your coffee, someone ran into you with their roll-y bag, your bag was over the weight limit, people mover is broken or people on the people mover/escalator aren't walking, etc. etc. etc.

Airports are strug central folks. One might say - the least comfy.

So I was perusing my news feed recently and I noticed a comment (that somehow ended up on my top news) from one friend to another that said simply "I wanna Skype you ;)" The responding comment was simply "buttskype." This got my brain juices a-flowin' and I started to think about how absurdly sexual technology has become! I mean, think about it for a moment: poking on Facebook, sexting - I mean, even the word Twitter sounds very sexual (in my opinion, it's a very short leap from the word "Twitter" to the word "cliterus.") And don't get me started on the word "YouTube"! I mean, before all of this technology nonsense, if you were sending "direct messages" to someone, then you were probably in a bar groping him (or her). Now, if you send a "direct message" then you simply wanted to just send them a message without broadcasting it to the world wide web. And take a moment to consider emoticons. They can totally take a simple texting convo or IM to the next level - "I'm so happy we saw each other tonight ;)"

I believe we have officially reached "futuristic flirting" or as I am going to officially term it (you heard it first here on the Comfy Corner, folks) "sexnology." Well, actually, I just Googled the term, and it's on Urban Dictionary, so I suppose there are officially no new ideas in this world. Ah, well. Stay comfy, cornerers.

No matter where I am, how old I am, or what values I cherish at that particular moment in time, I will always put the empty or expired milk back into the fridge. Or I will use all of the milk except the tiniest amount and put it back into the fridge thinking, "Oh, I might need that tiny bit of milk later." (I never need that tiny bit of milk). This is also true of cereal boxes. I will always have 4 or 5 pretty-much-empty cereal boxes in the cabinet. So when do these things actually get taken care of? When I open the fridge and smell something rotting. Then, I will do a mass cleaning of everything expired or empty. But I will always wait until the mass cleaning to throw things away. And I know for a fact, that I am not alone in this habit. This little fact of life is a mutual laziness amongst all humans.

When I was a senior in high school we had this little tradition called "senior prank." Every high school in the country has to deal with these shenanigans yearly and our high school was no exception. The only thing was, I was incredibly nerdy and deathly afraid of breaking the rules (surprised?). So me and my nerdy friends decided to play a prank that would help, rather than hinder our school. But, we would act the part and make it feel like we were doing something really naughty.

So midnight rolled around and all 7 of us showed up in a sketch black van (that's how I remember it, anways) at the high school dressed in black and armed with copious amounts of sidewalk chalk, shovels, spades and potted flowers. We went to the hill overlooking the fine arts building and we started to dig. We planted probably 50 plants in the shape of "'07." Then we got started with the sidewalk chalk. In artistically genius lettering we wrote "School Beautification" on the large expanse of gray sidewalk in front of the hill. We then drew flowers, hearts, and peace signs everywhere. And drew little arrows leading everyone to our hippie masterpiece. We snapped one pic (the set-it-on-a-trash-can-and-wait-for-the-flash kind) of all of the outlaws and then we escaped unnoticed.


I tossed and turned in my bed that night thinking of all the rules we probably broke and half considering going back to the school and digging up the plants. "At least," thought I, "the sidewalk chalk is not offensive or anything. It's actually quite beautiful." The next morning, bleary eyed but wide awake, I arrived at school and headed towards the fine arts building expecting to see a crowd of gawking spectators. Instead, I saw a lonely janitor with a garden hose, spraying away our sidewalk chalk masterpiece before anyone really had a chance to see it. This was the state of the arts in our country, I thought. One person just spraying away creativity and probably giving more thought to what he wanted for lunch. Once again, I felt the familiar feeling of heartbreak (it doesn't take much). They cared not one bit about all the plants we planted (they remained there the rest of the year) but they could not handle anything but mindnumbingly gray sidewalk lining the walls of the school. And that, my friends, is probably why I have committed my life to the arts. To bring that sidewalk chalk out of the drain and back onto the sidewalk where it belongs.