I got recognized for the first time last night! I was eating a delicious mashed potato pizza with my lady friends at Pizza Luce when the waiter, a very nice guy with a super sweet ponytail, mumbled “so, any stand up shows coming up?” I misheard him completely and thought he said “blablabla centipedes?” I was all “huh?” and he was all “STAND UP SHOWS.” Apparently he had seen me at Cause one night and again, about a month later, at the All American Burger Bar show. How exciting! Then again, he didn’t say whether he liked it or not, he just recognized me. Good enough for me. Then we forgot our leftovers on the table.
I just finished reading Darrell Hammond’s autobiography “God, If You’re Not Up There, I’m F*cked” (the “*” is supposed to be a “U”). It was pretty good. I read it in about two days. Darrell Hammond was never one of my favorite cast members of SNL but I always appreciated his impressions. He always came off as really smarmy and creepy on the show. Now I know why. He was a seriously f*cked up guy for the better part of his life. Coming from an incredibly stable if not a little quirky family, I can’t really identify with his life. I can identify with his love of accents and impressions, though. It was interesting to learn his process of taking on characters. Because of my aforementioned busy sleep schedule, I don’t have the time to watch 4-6 hours of video of celebrities I’d like to imitate. Instead, I wing it. I only have two semi-solid impressions of celebrities and those are Drew Barrymore and Keira Knightly. Oh, and Theresa Caputo – the Long Island Medium.
My tire exploded on Tuesday night. It looked just like this.
So I spent the night at my parents’ house. Like any self respecting, unemployed 26 year old, I was on my way over there to do my laundry when KABLAMO!! My tire died. My super awesome new pseudo-boyfriend (we haven’t made it official yet, we’re waiting until after his court date) came to save me. He ever so manly-y changed my tire and put the spare on. And THEN, because he’s the sweetest dude ever, he followed me to my doctor’s appointment and WAITED for me for an hour because I was scared to drive alone w the spare on. What a peach, right? Now he’s not answering my calls or texts and I’m kind of afraid he’s been arrested… Either that or he’s on his super manly motorcycle and he can’t answer his phone. Let’s hope for the latter.
Anyway, the point of the story is that I spent the night at my parents’ house and I watched a heinous amount of cable television. Most of it was “Dance Moms” on Lifetime, “the Little Couple” on TLC and “19 Kids and Counting” also on TLC. I got absolutely nothing out of those shows other than “I’m glad my mom wasn’t like that,” “awww, they’re so adorable together!!” and “ugh, sew it up, lady!” The only show I actually got something out of was “Long Island Medium.” My mom always taught me not to fool around with that kind of thing, Ouija boards and the like, so of course I’m even more fascinated by that stuff now. Anyway, this lady is amazing. She has the thickest New York accent ever and a helmet of perfectly sprayed blonde hair. Like Sylvia Brown (from Montel fame), she has super long fingernails, which is gross. Whenever my mom saw women with long fingernails she’d say, “how do they wipe their butt??” A question we’ll never know the answer to.
The Long Island Medium always brings up heart breaking stories about people in the most awkward of places. In the episode I saw, she was at the dog park and she went up to a woman and said, “did yowah dawg just die? I’m sensing a dead dawg.” To which the stranger said, “um yes….” And proceeded to break down crying. Then, at the vet’s office, she blurts out “did someone’s relative just die? Someone just died… it was you, wasn’t it?” And she pointed to the poor receptionist behind the desk who CLEARLY didn’t want to talk about her dad just dying. Very awkward. It still made me want to go to a psychic to see what happens. If I do, you can’t tell my mom. Seriously.
Blogs will now be on an every Thursday basis, I just couldn’t do Wednesdays. Too many memories… too stressful. Thursdays are much better.
This is what that lady looks like:
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