The Comfy Corner

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.