The Comfy Corner

Here's the biggest problem that I've ever encountered in my young adulthood: I can't afford the lifestyle that I think I deserve. I'm a lush and I absolutely can't help it. I like taking cabs and surrounding myself with nice things. But, I'm poor. And yet, I keep trying to pretend like I'm not poor. Thus, I keep wasting my money on things that I don't really need like HD DVR packages and memory foam pillows. It's a recurring theme in my life right now. When I was younger (not much younger, let's be honest, like 18) I would watch the James Bond movies and drool over how luxurious 007's lifestyle was (I'd drool over Daniel Craig's body too, but that's for a different blog). He was always in a tailored tuxedo or beautiful slim fit suit, he was always drinking the best scotch, he was always in the nicest hotel rooms and he always had the fanciest cars. That's what I want! That's partially why I always drink gimlets and wear ties. Sometimes small things can make you feel really big. But recently the issue has escalated...

I essentially ordered the most expensive cable package available to a homeowner in NYC without really consulting with my room mate. I sort of told her how much it would cost but not really. I just really wanted DVR! And what's a DVR if it's not HD? And what's HD if you don't have On Demand and Showtime? This, to me, was a legitimate list of concerns. So after the cable was installed and my room mate found out how much our monthly bill was going to be, she called me and told me the most devastating news. We would have to downgrade cable plans. Yuck, I don't ever wanna hear that word, downgrade. Severely downtrodden, my room mate ripped the HD DVR box from my poor, wanting hands and took it back to the cable store. But then, a miracle happened! The woman at the cable store convinced her to keep the HD DVR box by cutting our monthly bill IN HALF! She even upgraded our box to a new one with more memory! Thanks Jessica, you saved my HD life!

And today, I was buying pillows at Bed, Bath and Beyond (the best place for a homebody to spend their time). I dejectedly picked up the ten dollar pillows telling myself to not even look at my other options. But then I saw the memory foam pillows at the end of the aisle and like Ginny Weasley in The Chamber of Secrets, I lost all control of my body and committed such evils. I ended up purchasing the most expensive pillows available. I reasoned that I spend a huge portion of my life sleeping, so I should obviously have the nicest pillows! Plus, sleeping is literally my favorite activity. When I wake up, I actually think to myself, "I can't wait until tonight when I get to go back to bed." But then, I was carrying these memory foam pillows through Washington Heights and I was getting the dirtiest looks from my neighbors. The looks that clearly said, "You rich douchebag living off of daddy's money." WHICH ISN'T TRUE! I WORK HARD FOR MY MEMORY FOAM PILLOWS AND MY DVR! So yeah, I need to cool it with the spending. But I have a kick ass cable plan now and I am going to sleep so well with zero neck problems. And those things make me happy. And isn't that our goal in life? Happiness? So stay lush y'all and stay comfy.

It's funny to me. When I am negotiating contracts for a job I always insist that I am given at least one day off a week to relax and explore. However, when I am in the city, building my own work schedule, I don't give myself the same luxury. I always fill my schedule to the max with work, class, errands and chores and I give myself a day off every month if I'm lucky. It's cruel! But New York has this weird way of making me feel like I'm wasting my life away when I'm sitting in my apartment. When I'm at home, I always feel like I'm missing some amazing opportunity. And I probably am, but there are just too many amazing opportunities occurring at any given moment for one person to take advantage of. It's a constant anxiety for me. So I suppose I just have to embrace the fact that I'm not gonna catch everything that is happening in the world and enjoy my days off, kinda like I enjoy my days off here in Creede.

For three of my days off I have ventured down to this magical place called Pagosa Springs. I say this place is magical because it has all the things Creede doesn't have: Mexican food, pizza, a movie theatre, Sonic and the most amazing hot springs I've ever seen. It's like a real life heaven on earth! There are probably about thirty hot tubs hugging the Rio Grande and you can take a dip in each and every one of them. Some of them have waterfalls, some have jets, some are 115 degrees. It's our planet's very own comfy corner! If you are feeling adventurous, you can even take a dip in the river and then dry off by the fire that is always going. Every time I've gone to Pagosa, I've had a lovely dinner, seen an amazing movie, and then watched the sunset (and the rainbows, there are always rainbows!) as I soaked in the healing sulphur waters heated by the core of our beautiful mother earth. And the whole time I've felt completely at peace! I haven't felt like I was wasting time or missing something important or letting life pass me by. I've just embraced my relaxation and lived in the moment. I suppose it's a pretty easy thing to do, though, since I'm surrounded by old biddies who sneak flasks of white wine and whiskey into the hot tubs and drunkenly talk about absolutely nothing in particular. They know how to relax. They've spent their whole lives perfecting the art.

And so I've come to the conclusion that actors don't know how to relax. They party hard, they work hard, they are in class all of the time, in rehearsal, waiting tables, making rent, performing, on the road, but they don't plan vacations often enough. They book a job near a beach and consider that job their vacation when in fact it isn't. It is still a job. Too often do we mix work and free time. We aren't wasting our lives away when we go to the spa or take a summer off to see the world. No, in fact we are giving ourselves the fuel we need to do what we do better. Theatre is gonna keep happening y'all. Auditions are never gonna stop occurring. So why not live life for a bit? After all, it's kind of hard to imitate life on stage when you're too busy making art to live the life the art is imitating, right? So I will soak in my earth water comfy corner guilt free. Because my body deserves it. Stay comfy y'all.

I'm blogging to you live from the "huge" town of Creede, Colorado which boasts an impressive population of around 400. Oh don't worry, that's the year-round population. It bumps up to 20,000 in the summer! And I must say that this is the most magical place I've ever been to. I grew up in the mountains, so I thought coming here would be like coming home. Wrong-o! Here it is 9,000 feet elevation. Here there are towering cliffs looking down on you. Here I get drunk off of one beer. Here I am winded from walking up a flight of stairs. Here there are hundreds of pretty puppies walking down the street begging to be loved on. Here there are three angry cats that fight outside my front door. Here there are SEVEN DEER THAT GRAZE IN MY BACK YARD! Yes, folks, it's a new world over here. It's like the wild wild west, but I prefer to think of it as... District 12. The mining district. And I've left the capitol to live in District 12.

And you'd think that if Katniss grew up in the Capitol and moved to District 12 she'd be super sad. But, it's quite the opposite (except I do miss my Peeta)! Small town life is wonderful. The food here is superb. Every waiter is perfectly happy to split the check 10 ways. I can walk anywhere I want to. I don't need a car or a metro pass. The grocery store is next store to my home. It's quiet at night. I can see the stars!! And I begin to think to myself, "Self, how have you become victim to the spell of New York City?! You struggle day in and day out and the only place to find solace is in a clean bodega!" Every struggling young person in New York City should strike and move to the small towns of America and live it up. It's absurd really how much better life is in this town. In New York, it is a day long event to do something as simple as pick up a package or fax something. Here, coffee is only a dollar anywhere I go. And if I don't have the money, they'll say, "Don't worry about it! I'll get ya later." NOBODY LOCKS THEIR DOORS! And I actually feel guilty if I don't wave to people that I pass by on the street.

Most importantly, it's not that guy that gives me coffee, it's Kevin. It's not that woman who made me a biscuit, it's Jenny. It's not that cute couple that opened a new restaurant, it's Jess and Erin. I wish I could scoop you all  up into my kangaroo pouch and bounce you all over to this amazing place because despite the crazy cats and grazing deer, it is one of the comfiest corners I've ever experienced. Stay comfy y'all!

In my unceasing pursuit of the comfiest corner in the world, I have, much to my dismay, found myself in the unsettling arms of the Super 8 motel chain. As I pass through the hideously carpeted hallways that wreak of prostitution and bad decisions I begin to fully realize how spoiled I've been. Growing up, I was accustomed to vacationing in the laps of luxury in such hotels as the Hampton Inn, the Holiday Inn and the Double Tree. There, I was greeted with a smile and a warm cookie. The sunshine-bathed rooms were only magnified in there grandioseness by the crisp, clean air coming out of the AC and the "heavenly beds" that were made to perfection with loving, foreign hands. However, now that I am footing the bills, I have discovered that such luxuries come with a price tag a bit beyond my budget. So, as the classically truthful adage goes, you get what you pay for. I have been kicked out of luxurious Downton and banished to the filthy stables.

I'm currently blogging from a Super 8 in Wapakeneta, Ohio. Or as my boyfriend misheard me, "Wombat-kinetic-energy, Ohio." The dim, dusky room is furnished in what I can only guess to be resold funeral parlor furniture. The absence of a fitted sheet on my bed is all too unnerving. The mysterious brown stain creeping along the edge of the box spring is only highlighting the lack of a bed skirt. The hilariously identical, old pictures of flowers hanging above each bed does little to add anything remotely cheery to the room. In fact, they only serve to show how thoughtless and tasteless the decor is. And yet, I must sadly and honestly admit that this is one of the nicest Super 8's we have been to yet!

The last Super 8 I was in, I had the great fortune of crawling into a bed that was already occupied - with bed bugs. A first experience for me that I wish to never repeat. After a room change, a hotel change (thank you Comfort Inn across the street), a couple sleepless nights, and a thorough inspection of everything I own, I have recovered from that experience and I now meticulously examine my beds before I crawl into them. The first Super 8 we stayed in was fortunate enough to have mold in the shower that didn't actually work and a faulty toilet. The Russian mechanic that came to "fix" the shower abruptly said to me, "You must lift up for water!" And left. So, what knowledge have I wrought from these experiences? That a comfy corner is not always so easy to come by. The things that keep me sane are my Yankee candle I carry to every room I stay in, the blanket that my mom gave me, and Netflix. So wherever you are in the world, I hope you are finding your corners a little comfier than the one I'm in currently. And I hope you're grateful for it. And Super 8? I super hate you. So get it together.

Stay comfy ya'll.

I recently worked a temp job and this old security guard I was working with asked me what I did for a living. When I told him I was an actor he said, "Oh, okay. Lemme ask you something. Approximately when do most people like you decide to give up on your dream?" I don't get upset very often but this question really upset me. Who did he think he was?!? So I said to him, "Who are you to just come up to me and ask me when I'm gonna give up on my dreams? You don't even know me! You don't know what I can do, what my dreams even are!" I was riled up and rightfully so. How can he judge my profession when he has no idea what it even entails? And then he went on to explain that real success was "someone like Clint Eastwood. Someone who also gets behind the camera. That's when you know you're successful." This is when I stopped listening to him. Clearly his definition of success was different from mine.

I've been thinking a lot about this ever since and I've decided that no one else can determine what success is for someone else. When I told my mom I was joining AFTRA (the union for TV actors) she said, "Oh, one day you'll be on the cover of People magazine!" That, to her, would be real success. So, there ya go. When it comes to acting there is no definition of success. Is Meryl Streep more successful than Taylor Lautner? I would instinctually say yes, but in reality there is no comparison because they have to determine their own ideas of success. So what is success to me? I suppose it's just to do what I love. If I'm doing that, then I think I'm pretty successful. But then again, maybe success is simply just sitting here on my couch with cookies, Ina Garten, and the comfiest corner. After all, I'm doing what I love!

Stay comfy ya'll!

Over the past semester I developed a slight addiction to the TV series, "The Biggest Loser." I watched every episode religiously and I even did some of Jillian's "Last Chance Workouts" on my Comcast OnDemand (she knows just what to say to me). In short, I developed a sort of obsession with watching people lose weight. My roommate, Vanessa, and I would always make lots of snacks (because you can't watch the show without eating, right?) and we'd watch it before going to bed because watching them workout made us tired. The embarrassing truth of the matter is that...well... I cried, without fail, every single episode. Every episode would have an emotional arc and 3/4 of the way through the show, someone would inevitably have some incredible revelation and start crying and that's when I would lose it. I'm not ashamed, though! These people are making huge changes in their lives! They are losing more than just weight, they are losing years and years of emotional baggage and they are fighting to win back their lives. They all gained weight for someone emotional/psychological reason and that show just cuts right to the heart of the problem and transforms not only their bodies, but the way they view the world!

Two weeks ago I lived in a beautiful South End Boston two bedroom apartment where I enjoyed my own room with a Tempurpedic bed and one beautiful, amazing room mate who spoiled me beyond belief. Two weeks later I am sharing a small room with four boys in a house with about thirty people sharing one kitchen with constantly-wet counters and piles and piles of dishes and five refrigerators. I feel like I'm living in a reality show or something. The joys of life have become primitive. For instance, I just spotted a foam mattress pad sitting in the hallway and I snagged it like a ninja. And now I feel like a king on my top bunk. I get joy from finding space in the refrigerator to put my milk. Or if I can snag a burner on the stove in the morning to make my eggs.

All complaining aside, I feel humbled. I've made my my mattress more comfortable (I was getting bruises on my ribs from the springs) and I've made a home out of a mad house. I'm kinda proud that I've been able to find comfy corners beyond the L-couch where this blog was born. I feel like a gypsy or something. Floating around the world with the ability to exist in any environment with any group of people. The only thing I need to work on is my space cadet-ness. I get super A.D.D. and forget that I didn't wash my cup or pick my shoes up from the kitchen. Or I leave my cheese stick wrapper on the floor. Live and learn I suppose! At least I'm not in a restaurant anymore.

Stay comfy ya'll wherever you may be.

It's over. My days of formal institutional education are over. I have graduated from college and I am moving on. But graduating from Emerson College was a weird experience. I felt like my college experience was atypical in every way. I didn't take tests or math or write a ton of papers. I didn't have a quad or a campus for that matter. I lived in the dorms for a hot second and then moved into an actual apartment. So having a formal graduation was weird for me. After all of these years of non-college-like things, why have something so traditionally college?

Also, the end of graduation was super awkward because no one really knew when to move their tassel to the other side of their cap. I actually moved mine over right after I walked across the stage, but upon realizing that I was the only one who did that I quickly moved it back over. And then no one knew exactly when to throw their caps in the air so I threw mine at the weirdest moment and had to awkwardly pick it up so the teachers wouldn't step on it.

On the bright side, our speaker was incredible. Richard LaGravenese is my new favorite screenwriter. He was real, he was honest, he knew what we wanted to hear, he was very appropriate for Emerson, he gave amazing advice, and he actually got kinda emotional toward the end. It's just nice to hear someone who is really passionate about their craft. And it's always good to hear someone tell you that you chose the right field. And now I sit here in my shiny new job working next to professionals and he couldn't have been more right and I couldn't feel luckier. I left the most talented people behind only to join a new group of amazingly talented people. LaGravenese said something that struck me. I think it went something like this.

"It's a finishing of the hat. It's all about creating something that wasn't there before. That's why we do this. You all have the right to make your place in the world. Go get 'em."

And so now I move on. For better or for worse. Into the abyss but knowing that no matter where I go or what I do, there will always be a comfy corner waiting for me.

It amazes me how much of a bubble college truly is. Every time I leave Boston, it's as though I am awakened from a long, strange dream. We all get so wrapped up in our lives that we forget that their is a whole world of things waiting to be explored. I'm currently blogging live from the William's estate in Windham, Maine where I am melting into a fur rug in true Spring Break bliss laughing about people who buy out entire stores of food for pennies using their coupons. And we couldn't have dumbed life down any more.

Have you ever found yourself with a large, American-sized portion of really delicious food and you get halfway through it and realize that you are so full and should probably stop eating it but you don't want to stop eating it because it's so good? So you find yourself asking the question - do I finish it now or should I save the rest for later? This, my comfy friends, is what I like to call, "The Chipotle Dilemma." I call it this because this always happens to me when I am eating a huge burrito from Chipotle. I get halfway through it and realize that I've literally eaten a pound of food, and so I consider, even if for only a moment, wrapping it up and saving it for later. But I always finish it and ya know why? Because maybe there won't be a "later." Maybe I'll be walking out the door with my half eaten burrito and a brick will fall on my head or something and the burrito will splatter all over the sidewalk for some stupid squirrel to eat. If I finish the burrito then at least I can die saying I lived my life to the fullest (literally).

And that is how I'm looking at life right now. Full steam ahead, man. Why wait? Why let yourself get blown around like a dry leaf waiting for the right role or the right lover or the right time to do this or say that? As my great math teacher in high school always said, "It's Nike time... Just do it." So that is what I'm gonna do this semester. No more hemmin' and hawin'. I'm gonna finish the burrito. No stupid squirrel is gonna eat my leftovers! I'm throwin' down the pencil and grabbin' a pen. If things don't happen for me, I'm gonna make something happen for me. No more waiting for Guffman. No more Mr. Nice Chang. If my corner ain't comfy, why then, I'm gonna buy some new pillows. It's our time folks. It's your time. No more Chipotle dilemmas. Carpe diem!

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.

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.

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!

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, 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.

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.

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.