Wednesday, July 26, 2006

A Glennis Story

I think writing in this here blog is therapeutic. Even if I have no idea what strangers might be reading the semi-personal things I write, it's somehow comforting to know someone is. And someone cares. Which is probably why people write in the first place. Is it? Maybe not. I'll just say it is.

Lately in therapy I've been working on not being such fakey-fake-fake. Bottling up all my inner feelings and presenting what I think people what to see. Happy Happy Glennis! Always happy! Never a problem!! It's been nice, talking about things. With friends, family, the milkman.

It's good. I highly recommend it. Don't be afraid that people will judge you or hold things against you. Ultimately if they do then they can just sit on it. Because it's all about YOU. Or... ME, in this case.

So, you know when you were a little kid and you had that one thing you REALLY wanted. Like so badly you could taste it? And that's all you ever thought about, every day, multiple times a day. You dreamed about it and sometimes said it without realizing you'd said it. And you tell everyone, simply everyone who will listen, how badly you want this thing. Because you're just sure it will make your life complete. Like Ralphie in 'A Christmas Story,' you have a Red Rider BB Gun sized hole in your 10-year-old heart.

I think people are inherently optimistic. Even if you say you are a pessimist, I think a little part of you always thinks, "But perhaps it will happen! Perhaps I actually will get that part/win that award/get that promotion/not lose my leg!" I like that part of people. I like happiness and optimism, especially when in NY.

In the end of A Christmas Story, Ralphie gets his gun. Which always makes me happy. And I can watch that movie a million times in my life, at least 3 times in a row on Christmas, because of Ralphie's undying optimism.

I'm glad Ralphie got his BB gun, because it would have been a very different movie if he hadn't, but I'm sure he'd have been ok without it in the end.

Was that open enough? Probably not. Oh well, it made me feel better.

(And no, I'm not talking about the Ellen job. If that's what you read into this. I still haven't heard anything, and am still insanely optimistic about it.)

Friday, July 21, 2006


As most of you know, I love me some medical dramas. Especially if they're real. But hey, I'm not picky. I still watch ER when I can so you KNOW I'm not picky. So secretly in the back of my mind I've always wanted something truly horrific to happen to me. But not really. You know, how you can be like, "how thrilling would it be to be in a car crash. like a really bad one!?" but of COURSE YOU DON'T REALLY WANT IT TO HAPPEN. I don't REALLY want a flesh eating bacteria, but man that is the coolest thing EVER, right you guys?

Well, I got my dream. Kind of. Maybe not. Just listen.

I've been running lately and had been doing really well. All in prep for this marathon thing. Any PATRICK SwayZE (thank you, Liz, for that beautiful pun) I really love running. You're getting somewhere, you are outdoors, you feel great after. I really enjoy it! I even got up to 10 miles and was like "whoa! 10 miles! I've never done that before!" But then, recently, I started running and after about 1 1/2 miles, my hip started to really hurt. Kinda like it was gonna dislocated. COOL! But not cool. So I took a week off. And then ran again in San Fran, ran some hills (omg the HILLS OUT THERE!) and it hurt again. So now I'm all dude, what is going on.

So I went to a sports doctor today and I found out a few things.

First: I could have a stress fracture. COOL! NOT AT ALL COOL. Cuz if that's the case then I have to stop running :(
Second: My left leg is significantly longer than my right (!! How did I go 27 years without knowing that! Everyone go to a sports doctor NOW! You might have an extra ear you never saw!) and therefore my left ankle is hyperextended and rotates when I run which makes my right leg and hip overcompensate. WOW. He had me lay on a table and showed me... my right ankle sits right on top of my left. It's like I have a retarded leg. Which leads me to...
Third: I might have to wear lifts. It's so Tom Cruise!! All I need is a crazy look in my eye and a submissive girlfriend. Oh and a FAKE BABY.

I learned so much today!

So there you have it. I am a walking medical mystery. At least until I get my x-ray and we figure out what it is.

Until then. Ah-dew.


Thursday, July 20, 2006


Wow, I have really been slacking off with these posts!

So have you guys felt it? The world being just a bit "off"? I have... boy have I ever. And I hear it's because Mercury is in retrograde. You know what I'm talking about. Yeah, me neither.

But anywho, it's happening. And I can see it happening too. People are breaking up, getting back together, crying, fighting, crashing, screwing. It's all over the place and it's all because of Mercury. Can't you just let us chill out a little, dude?

Anywho, that's not what my post is about. I don't know enough about that to actually write an intelligent entry.

First thing's first. We had a great time in San Fran (Me, Travis, his fiance, Eliza and her man... my dude was workin so I was solo as usual) and had 3 great shows... but very small audiences. Which was really dissapointing since we flew across the country. And the other weekends had been sold out. But what can you do, right? We made the most of it and had a great time. You don't believe me? Why just look at these pictures!

And can I just talk for one minute about my office again? I need to talk about the "saying hello" thing. There are some WEIRDOS in my office, as I've previously discussed here (in my very subtle sitcom fashion) but why does everyone have to make saying hello in the hallway such an ordeal?

First there's the housekeeper who, every time I see her, every SINGLE TIME throughout the day, stops me to say hello but is not nice about it. She is German, I think, so she doesn't smile, she just says hello. And if I don't say hello she walks over to my eye line and says hello again. WOMAN! I just said hello to you 20 minutes ago!!!

Then there's that weirdo hippy attorney who tried to get $10 back from me for his donation. I say hi to him when passing him in the hallway and he says, "How are you, why not." HOW ARE YOU, WHY NOT?? What the fuck does that even MEAN!?

Then there's a Para who, every single time he sees me, says, "Hey Glennis, what's up, how are you?" EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Like, no, "Hello." No, "How ya doin?" Every single time it's, "Hey Glennis, what's up, how are you?"

I've been here for 5 years, people. It's starting to get to me.

And have I told you about cat lady? She has 2 cats and has 50 framed pictures of them on her desk. I'm not kidding. 50. Framed.

OK that's pretty much all I need to say about this place. Now you know where I'm coming from, eh?

Karate Kitty!

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Ding Ding Ding

After a sleepless night because of possibly the most bizzaro dream I'm ever had, I'm sitting at JFK waiting for my flight to San Fran to meet up with Eliza and Travis for the improv festival. I'm tired so I needed my DunkinD and had to wait to get to JFK to get it. I stood in a line that wrapped around itself about 5 times, and ended up waiting 15 minutes for coffee. The whole time I'm waiting, the people behind me are commenting on this long line and the fact that there's only one coffee place in the whole airport!! It felt like one of those games to teach kids to pay attention to details. Look at this scene and say everything you possibly can about it!

"This is a long line"
"I can't believe there's only one coffee place in the whole airport."
"There might be a gourmet one down there."
"We're in NY!"
"Are they ording donuts for the whole plane?"
"Those donuts have jelly in them."
"I have feet!"

Just plain infuriating. If this had been POST coffee drinking, I would have laughed at it. Pre coffee? I wanted to shoot myself.

Oh, so the dream. Pretty much the only thing that's inspired me to write in this blog in a while. Sorry about that, loyal readers.

I dreamed I'd gotten breast implants. I got home and layed in bed and one implant started coming out the side. I took them out and started to put back the stuff that was originally in my breasts. Raspberries. I kept gently placing them back in the skin and then pulled both flaps of my breasts (which were cut from the top) to hold in place. A friend's boyfriend came over to help me out and said he could put the implants back. He took one into the kitchen to boil it in water. I went in the kitchen and smelled something burning and it was my implant. It had been sitting in water for so long the water had boiled out and it was melting. I thought, GREAT, now I have to hold my breasts up like this, filled with raspberries, FOREVER.

I had that dream OVER AND OVER last night. I'm so tired. Can someone please decifer this for me?

My flight is here. Hills and Trollys, here I come!

(I'll always think of Judy Garland when I think of San Fran. I heart you Judy G.)