Rejected

Eliza and I made a video (along with the help of filmmaker/photographer Anya Garrett - www.anyagarrett.com - and super talented actor/comedian Nate Lang) for the Klondike "What Would You Do" competition. The rejection letter, among other things, said that videos are rejected when they "include acts of violence or acts that appear to cause harm."

Enjoy.



Love,

Glennis

The Hat is On

Lately, as I've probably written here half a billion times before, I've been trying on the "NO FEAR" hat. It's hard. It really doesn't fit perfectly yet, but sometimes I can pull it off. Like when I'm wearing leopard pants. Totally matches.

Recently when I was in LA I said to dear Eliza, "Hey! If we go to Disney I'll ride a roller coaster!"

Anyone who knows me well knows those are two of the last things I want to do. A) I hate Disney and B) I am deathly afraid of roller coasters. DEATHLY. Like, I think I will die on them. But I decided that by saying it I would be held responsible to do it (especially since her response was, "YEAH!? HOLY SHIT! OK!") and would therefore have to follow through or be forever deemed a huge pussy. Well, I missed out on Disney but I did indeed ride a baby roller coaster on the Santa Monica Pier. I shouted "oh god! oh god! oh god!" over and over and I thought Eliza was going to piss herself she was laughing so hard. We were both crying and howling with laughter at the end of that ride. Totally scary, totally awesome and totally worth it. (Thanks, E!)

Find me back in NY and my other dear friend, Corrine (who was BORN with the "no fear" hat on!), has convinced me to take a trapeze lesson at Pier 40 (what's with this shit all being on piers!?) by the Hudson river. Again... no idea why, the day after I fly back from LA, I'd want to take a TRAPEZE LESSON but that hat was on my head as soon as my alarm went off. The key is to just pretend like you're going to do something else. I tell my body we're going to eat (because that's my favorite sport) and it's so dumb I never chicken out anymore!

The bottom line is I totally trapezed.

And I have it on tape.

Enjoy! (And thanks to Corrine for the awesome job taping me!!)



Go "No Fear" hats!!!

xoxo

Glennis

The Story of How I Met Roger Daltrey and How Little it Meant To Me At The Time

The story begins in Los Angeles, where most stories begin, unless they begin somewhere else.

I was on vacation with THE EX (bum bum BUUUUM) and we got tickets to see his pal, Eddie, in My Fair Lady at The Hollywood Bowl (whoa what up name dropper). The show starred, you guessed it, The Who's Roger Daltrey as Alfred P. Doolittle. Now at the time... yes, I knew who he was and, like, I totally knew the some of the The Who the songs. "Whooooo are you. Who ooh. Ooh ooh." But fuck if I cared that he was in the show. I said it. Seeing Roger Daltrey on stage meant about as much to me as a puppy watching a man re-grow his hands. And that's fuckin' hard.

I'm getting off track.

Roger Daltrey.

Right.

After the show ended we went back stage and I met THE Roger Daltrey. He said my name. He shook my hand. He was quite charming, quite British and feigned interest in meeting me quite well. And yes he was short. And after we met he drove away in a Mini Cooper.

I went to LA last week and while I was there I DROVE A MINI COOPER, TOO.

I'm just saying, guys. Life is weird.

And I'm an asshole for not being more excited about meeting Roger Daltrey.

Love,

Glennis