Friday, April 20, 2012

Problems in a Pile

So at a comedy venue the other night, the house manager was a beautiful woman, with the kind of skin they probably use to design Photoshop templates. Flawless skin, a great figure, wearing a sleeveless top when she assisted the bus boys in clearing a few tables and picking up tossed-aside programs.

As she made her way through the audience toward the end of the show, cleaning a few items, I found myself admiring her arm and shoulder. I am pretty obsessed with arms right now - I have this vision in my head of what I want them to look like - since the next step of fitness on the Weight Watchers program for me has been adding in strength training, and I'm enjoying the journey of sculpting the arms. To be fair, the arms I really want I can't have... I don't think they'll ever be as thin as I desire... so instead, I am actively trying to make a new goal, and finding beautiful, toned, muscular arms to admire and strive toward.

Her shoulders were tough and strong, not tiny, but oh, so lovely. I can really covet a great arm in a sleeveless top, let me tell you. Add in that perfect skin, and I'm thinking of adding reps to my workout already.

And then she turned to double-back through the room.

And you could see that she had one lovely shoulder and arm; and she also had one smaller, still lovely, shoulder with an amputated arm above the elbow.

Covet away, Emily, covet away. There's an instant lesson for you!!

Have you ever heard of the pile of problems? Bring together 100 people, some you know and some you don't. Pop all your problems into a pile of 100 scraps of paper and choose one. Do you pick someone else's problems - the ones you can see, the ones you can't, and the ones they hide written on their piece of paper? Or in the end, do you pick the problems you know, understand, can handle and own?

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


I'm still pretty tired. Although my face no longer hurts, and my abdominals were not sore this year, by my exhausted-yet-conservative counting, I saw at least 78 sets of comedy at this year's Bridgetown Comedy Festival!

I survived it last April - barely - and had to skip the 4th of 4 days. This year, I planned better. I paced myself better. I made it to shows on all 4 days. (Well... my fellow wine drinkers on Saturday night might disagree about my ability to pace myself and be a fully responsible 30 year old, especially he who drove me home while I chattered the whole way in a voice that could have slurred a feeeeew less words.)

But. 78 sets. Ranging from a few 3-minute opener/host types to Janeane Garofolo, who was supposed do a 15 minute set, but didn't see the red light (she was looking at the wrong part of the theater for it to flash at her) and realized it 25 minutes later. (It was the most hilarious, embarrassed, genuine, huge reaction. She gasped, she threw her hands over her mouth, she ran off stage - apologizing to the crew and staff, mid-joke.)

Next year, I aim to top 80.

And if anyone out there is scouring Google for mentions of the Festival seeking feedback, I'll say this: thank you for bringing more women comics! Also: there were fewer masturbation jokes and I was grateful. But, there were a lot more mentions of pot, the Occupy movement, Portland dudes with beards and parenting/kids. Overall it was a little tamer - though, really, no less drunk on the performers' part - than last year, and if you want to immerse yourself in it with next year, let's! Call me in early April - I'll be plotting out my weekend of shows and picking more of my favorites! This year:
and Auggie Smith delivered, like always, and Lucas Dick was quite funny well before he told us his dad is Andy Dick! Go Lucas! Bridgetowners like me will enjoy seeing you in years to come.

Monday, April 16, 2012

More Truth in Advertising

You might remember the useful tip at the federal gym, all honesty it was about how we are going to get in shape, as regular people and not super-human will-power machines.

I noticed another sign today, in the elevator. It's above the emergency phone, and it contains instructions on what to do if the elevator breaks, but the perfect part of it is the first line, which reads, in all caps:


So supportive! So true! Try not to... even though we know you will, and we would too if we were there with you, because who wouldn't!?!... just try. And even if you do, that's OK, just move on to step two and we'll come to get ya out. Comforting!

Monday, April 9, 2012


It's official. Smitten Kitchen's posts are taking over my baking life and I. Need. To. Stop.

Stop baking her recipes, stop reading her charming posts, and stop sharing her gospel with others. It is no exaggeration that THREE people have now described her cocoa brownies (which I have baked for them and forced them to eat) as addicting to the point of being like crack, and so if you know what's good for you, you WON'T click on that link.

The most recent success is the honey cake. Good thing Rosh Hashanah is months away, so I won't have to make it again until September because it is, as described, moist and majestic, and it was, as expected, freaking delicious. (At least I was able to send it all home with guests and not a crumb remains at home.)

Must stop, must stop, must stop. Well, maybe right after I try the Sally Lunn bread... it has been calling to me for weeks... Hey! I'm making it without the honeyed brown butter! That's controlling this problem, right?

Sunday, April 8, 2012

1? 1mil?

I've either written this post a million times, or I've never managed to get it published... but it's a simple, powerful observation and if I haven't written it yet, shame on me.

Time spent with positive influences (ahem, people) in your life is time that flies, time that energizes, time that is well spent and makes you feel like you can come home and tackle that to-do list (clean all the things, even!) and have energy to spare - to share - to make a NEW list and start on THAT!

So the next time you come home from lunch, dinner, happy hour, coffee, or conversation and find yourself drained, needing a nap, wanting to turn your phone off... think about it. Think about how you could be coming home from the kind of conversation that is truly no better time spent, no relationship more worth nurturing. And invite one of those people to hang out - it'll do ya good.

So is this an Easter post? Sure, why not! There's a metaphor for rebirth in there somewhere, you can find it.

Happy Easter!