Saturday, December 12, 2009

Check the Mic

Last night I joined a few pals at an open mic at Stand Up NY. I've done this open mic one other time and it was a little crazy town. It seemed like there were a bunch of regulars who went every week and they liked to talk pretty much whenever someone they knew was on stage, but they were respectful when I went up so it was fine. This week we showed up and they were doing construction downstairs in the main lounge. We had to go upstairs to a little black box theatre and from the minute we walked in I was pretty sure things weren't going to go well that night. In my opinion, if you run an open mic, you set the tone of the show and it's your job to reel in your rowdy performers/audience members. If you allow them to talk during the show then they will and talk they did. Also, maybe not the best idea to put the most depressed man in the world on the show FIRST. I felt awful for the guy! He was almost in tears and I saw him the week before when he was just an angry guy... still not the best way to open the show, you know? So he does his set and walks out, but wait! He's not gone, he comes back to get in a fight with an even OLDER man than he. With hearing aids. And a cane. Ok he didn't have a cane. But they literally "went outside." So we're sitting here trying to do an open mic and two old men are threatening each other outside the door. The man running the door finally took control and kicked one of them out. So fine, rocky start but we can at least proceed in peace. Kind of.

Here's the thing - I understand that comics are a sensitive bunch and a lot of the people at this mic were just weird so when their material was completely misogynistic I tried not to be too annoyed by it. They're allowed to say what they want to say even though that "women suck" shit drives me nuts. It's ALL our fault you can't get laid? REALLY?

My friends and I do our sets and it goes fine. Not great, but no one tried to bust someone's lip open. So we're all a little tired of the shenanigans there and we say, "do you think we can go now?" Normally I would stay til the end - that's pretty much the way things work. You stay and watch the other comics. But this was just too much. We were ova it. There is a guy starting his set on stage so we stay in our seats to let him finish, but I guess maybe someone puts on a scarf or something and that sets him off. I have no idea what the guy's name is since as I was trying to get back to my seat there was what I'm pretty sure is a homeless guy blocking the isle and I had to say excuse me about 3 times. Then I hear the guy on stage start talking about us leaving. "Oh we're just going to leave now. We did our set and we're going to go. We're too good for this place. We're just going to go." And on and on and on. And I wasn't amused. I just sat there and looked at him to say, we're not leaving so do your set and leave us alone. But he just kept going and going so finally I said, "why don't you do your material instead of talking about us." And he said, "I am doing my material. This is my material. And you, you're just a narcissistic B... I won't finish that sentence." And the place is going wild for this guy. He's really killing. And I turn to my friends and say let's go. Please! So we start to walk out and he's still talking about some shit, I stopped listening, but he was looking right at me and I had just had it. So I turned before I shut the door and said, "you can go ahead and fuck yourself" and slammed the door.


Can I just say to you, the dude on stage who ruined my night. Can I just say that that's so not fucking OK? It's hard enough for a female to do comedy without some guy who probably hasn't gotten laid in a few years picking on you because he can't get with this. What a dick. What a tiny, tiny dick.

And can I say to the dude running that open mic that I love that you have the same people coming back but you need to get that shit in order. That is not OK. Having fun is one thing, a fight breaking out TWICE in your show is completely another.

Won't be going back to that open mic any time soon.

At least a hilarious story came out of it? I don't know, I thought typing it would make me realize the hilarity but I'm still kind of annoyed.



Monday, October 19, 2009

Basic Rider

How long has it been since you've seen Sharon Stone's vagi... (ahem) Basic Instinct? It had been a while for me. Do you think Michael Douglass had a rider in his contract that stated they had to show his Dougl-ASS walking away slowly a certain number of times? Because they do. A lot.

Speaking of walking away... my wish list is going to be a short one this year:

That's all. Now walk away slowly.



Tuesday, October 13, 2009

From The Vault of Glennis

When I first moved to NY I lived with a 93-year-old French woman on the Upper West Side (which is a story in and of itself, but for another time). 77th/Amsterdam to be exact. Moving from a small town in SW Colorado to THE UWS I thought I was THE_SHIT. No - I knew it. I WAS the shit. I walked around with a confidence only a move across the country alone can bring you. I rocked it and locked it.

I didn't have money, but I had a lot of free time. I was a nanny for a few fancy-pants families on the UWS who would sometimes say things like, "are you losing weight or do you just wear ill-fitting pants?" (the latter) I didn't care - I was awesome and they were giving me money to eat their snacks. Oh, and watch their kids. Life was good. One of my favorite free activities in NY was walking. Walking for hours and hours just exploring the city and feeling awesome. I probably stuck out like a sore thumb (I distinctly remember going to an audition in jean overalls), but I felt like I fit right in. My story helped to make up this rich tapestry that is NYC or some shit like that and I was damn proud to say I lived in NY. Walking was a harmless pastime, but was on one of these walks that I experienced something I had never felt before and will hopefully never again.

Let me first say - piggybacking off the overalls comment (not that there's anything wrong with overalls, btw. wait what am I saying yes there is. no one should wear them over the age of 6.) I need to address what my wardrobe consisted of at that time. Durango, CO, though great in a lot of ways, was no mecca of shopping. Our mall (which we nicknamed the Durango "Hall" because you could see from one end to the other) had Payless for sheos and Maurice's for tops and a pretzel stand in-between. It worked for Durango where jeans, a tee and birks are considered dressy, but in NY it just ain't the same. Or that's what I thought upon moving here. Regardless, I moved to NY with 5 bags of clothing and shoes made from the finest of synthetic materials.

One fine Summer day, and it was indeed Summer - I had never felt the kind of humidity NY had to offer - I had an audition. For a school. An ACTING school. Fancy pants! I was frickin' excited as balls, y'allz. I had prepared, studied, practiced, I was ready to knock them on their fat butts and become the next Meredith Berney Baxter. I also decided, because I was so new to NY, to walk to the audition. I had yet to use the subway (fear) and couldn't afford a cab (rent) and was tired of taking buses (old people) so I decided the best idea was to walk to my audition. Besides, it wasn't until 1pm or so, so I had time to saunter down and explore new parts of the city. And so, after donning my fanciest clothes and my most comfortable yet flattering (Payless*) shoes, I set off.

*And I'm not talking current-day Payless shoes, either. I'm talking 1998 plastic shoes so cheap even your dog won't chew on them. CHEAP.

As I mentioned, it was sweltering. About 20 blocks into my journey two things were made clear to me - 1) That I should have worn different shoes and 2) that I should have chosen a different mode of transportation. Because you see, friends, my heels were starting to blister and it effing HURT. Because you see, friends, my shoes were not leather as I had assumed (the "leather" loafers part threw me off), they were plastic. And friends, because it was the middle of Summer I was not wearing tights - just a skirt, my bare feet and plastic Payless loafers. The pain was bad. Really bad. But I had no idea it would get so much worse.

I looked at my watch and had an hour until my audition so I slowed my pace. The burn only worsened with each slow step. I tried to push my foot as far forward in the shoe to allow a little less rub room on my heels, but the shoes were pretty snug and I'm also pretty sure my feet were swelling from a mixture of heat and PURE UNCUT PAIN. And so I sat for a minute but did not take off my shoes. I was afraid to look. I was afraid if I took them off it would be like stopping a 22 mile run right in the middle - I'd just plain give up. (Yeah right like I know what running 22 miles feels like.) So I sat for a minute, looked at my empty wallet, and after a few minutes continued my walk of doom.

I continued on like that, starting and stopping, for the next 20 minutes or so... or so I thought. Turns out it was more like 35 minutes and I had 25 minutes to get to my big break of an audition. I had to jam on it, dudes. So I started walking faster. It wasn't so bad at that point seeing as my feet were all but numb, but then something terrible happened. The blisters - they popped. Yes, my water broke and I'm pretty sure the look on my face screamed PANIC as I waited for the tiny heel-babies to come out of my feet. Not one to give up - I continued on.

"Bandaids," I thought. "I need bandaids."

I told myself I'd get them once I got nearer the audition. It was my carrot hanging in front of my face motivating me to go on, little donkey. Besides, the blisters had popped, I wasn't in any pain so the worst of it was probably over, right?


Because then, you see friends, THEN my blisters - the one that had already burst inside my $9.99 Payless death traps - THEY RE-BLISTERED.


You heard me right. They re-flippin'-blistered and my eyes welled up with tears. A panic came over me that if I didn't soon get these "shoes" off they would adhere to my feet and I'd never get them off. I was pretty sure with each rub the shoes were becoming part of my foot and vice versa. And yet - I was still walking. Walking to meet my destiny and become the next Tiffany Amber Theisen.

At this point I only had something like 10 minutes left and 10 blocks to go (don't check my math on this one - it was like 80 years ago) so I ran into Duane Read, spent money I didn't have on bandaids I knew would do no good, and ran into the school with minutes to spare.

The outfit I had so carefully ironed and picked out with loving attention to detail (I was wearing a Summer scarf) was dirty, limp and soaked in sweat. The hair I had gotten up early to blow dry when it was cooler out so the heat wouldn't ruin my 'do, had fallen. My makeup ran, my eyes were red from holding back tears but nothing compared to the monster madness coming from my feet.

I didn't even have the strength to find the bathroom. I sat down away from the other very put-together auditioners, holding back tears and prepped myself to take the shoes off my feet. Slowly, carefully I removed one foot at a time. The entire heel of my foot - and I do mean the ENTIRE HEEL (bottom of my foot included) had blistered. The bottom of my foot was still soft and squishy and hadn't poppped, but the back, the part moving up and down against that 10c plastic material, had not only blistered, re-blistered, but had popped again. I let out a whimper as I used an entire box of bandaids on my feet before trying desperately to squeeze them back in the worst shoes ever made.

I honestly don't remember my audition or how I got home. I'm pretty sure after squeezing my feet back in the shoes I blacked out but continued on with my day. That's the McMurray will, for ya. I do remember that I wasn't accepted into the school. In hindsight I'm pretty sure that it would have been a terrible experience for me. The blisters were probably there to ensure that I didn't get into the school and become the next Melissa Joan Heart.

Later that night back in my bedroom with a tiny view of the Empire State building I didn't sleep a wink. The throbbing in my feet was only comparable to when I had actually burned my foot in the 7th grade when I spilled boiling water on it. I remember lying there and thinking, between sobs, how lucky I was to have experienced this even though I would never have gone through it again for all the money in the world. How lucky for me to be in NY and have really worked like a true New Yorker for my goal. I felt awful but probably the best I'd felt in my entire life. I'm also pretty sure I had convinced myself I'd get into the school as justice for my shitty experience in getting there. Ah well - it's all for the best I say!

And now to don a comfortable pair of shoes that remind me of how hard I've worked to make it in NY.



People Say The Darndest Things

After attending what we surmised was 9 weddings this year (I surmise because I'm too lazy to go back and count), our final wedding was this past weekend on Cape Cod. I was super psyched to attend because A) I've never been to CC, B) It was one of Matt's family members which meant the entire McCarthy crew in attendance which = FUN (underlined), and C) It was our last wedding. HOORAH!!! Our last wedding of the year! Now all our money can go toward things like wrestling matches and pony rides!

Now don't get me wrong - we were like totally honored to be a part of every wedding and I have memories that are special to each event. Most of the memories are fabulous, but are lumped in with a few of dumdums acting a fool in front of the Fios guy. At one wedding, as I sat at our table next to Matty, a woman in her 50s came over with the usual - Are you him? No you're not - really!? - which was fine. No big deal. Until another woman in her 50s comes over and says, "stop bothering him" and then proceeds to try and set Matt up with her daughter right in front of me. Boy did she feel dumdumdum when Matt said, "Hey sweetie, you know who I should meet? Her daughter. I hear she's really pretty."

For the most part people act pretty silly around Matty. It ranges anywhere from adorable to disgusting and rude. And dudes, I get it. I understand that seeing someone on your TV every 10 minutes and then in person is kind of crazy, but honestly I've met a lot of famous people (Tom Hanks & Rita Wilson, Janet & Jermaine, the gang from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia to name a few) and I've never acted a mess like some people do.

Anyway, I'm usually left out of the questioning when people are face to face with "The Fios/Cable Guy" but this past weekend a wedding attendee got a little too much wine in her and cornered me at the bar.

DRUNKY - Are you the Verizon Fios girlfriend?

ME - Yep.

DRUNKY - OH MY GOD YOU MUST BE SO RICH!! Look at your dress! You are so rich.

First of all got m'dress at Daffy's for $15. Second of all WHO DOES THAT. I mean would you ever in a million years walk up to someone and say that? But get a little booze in people and all social skills go right out the window. Oh you dumdumdummy.

So what was my point... I don't think I had one. Just chill the eff out maybe?

Regardless, we had a killer time at the wedding(s) but I'm thankful for a break. Hey y'all? My friends who are dating? Hold off on the weddings for a while will ya?



Friday, September 25, 2009

Wedding Weekend Recap - Part 2 (of 1,000 Weddings)

Last week my lovah and I went to Portland, OR for one of his best bud's wedding. This is seriously like wedding 80 of 1,000 - I just haven't written about the others. (They will be written about but right now all I have the strength for is the most recent.)

Portland wedding was amazing. The scenery - breathtaking. The guests - little packages of awesome. The partying - terrifs. One aspect of the partying was especially terrif. It involved only myself, Matt and our awesome friend Pete. One starry night we sat outside Pete's room on his patio looking for UFOs and drinking ourselves silly. Eventually, as it tends to do exactly every 13.2 minutes (like clockwork), nature called. I, being the classy lady that I am, got up to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. The two gentleman stood up, because they've got class as well, to excuse me and I gracefully sauntered in to the room to powder my lady parts.

Or that's what I had hoped would happen.

Instead, I stood up and walked right into the glass door. It's just my way, y'allz.

I sank to my knees (to keep the pee in) and started laughing so hard I don't actually believe I took a breath for 60-90 seconds. Matt fell off his seat, laughing, crying, holding his sides. We couldn't breath, we couldn't speak, all we could do was laugh. I don't even think anyone could ask if I was OK, but clearly I was as I was laughing hysterically. Next thing I know I hear a stream of what sounds like urine and I turn to see Matt 10 feet away peeing in the bushes. He could no longer hold it and was not about to pee his pants. I turn to where Pete is standing and he's just stone-faced and says, "I need to collect my thoughts" and walks inside. Well, first he opened the sliding glass door and THEN he walked inside.


It was classic Glennis, really.

And that's what I took away from Portland wedding. (Among many many other amazing things which I am not sure I can go into right now. Seriously - SO TIRED.)

Another wedding this Sunday! Let's hope I can keep my everlovingcrap together.

I love you all more than you'll ever know.



Thursday, September 24, 2009


I used to have insanely vivid dreams that I felt like I'd lived and still to this day I'm not quite sure I haven't. I remember every single detail. What I was wearing, who I was with, what the walls looked like - Everything. Last night I had another of those dreams.


There were some traveling aspects in last night's - I was in a cab going to a location that the cab driver couldn't find, etc - but most of the dream took place in a party. The high point was when a friend of mine, John, fell down some stairs and was SLICED IN HALF. He was at the bottom of the stairs one minute and then next standing next to me with a visible gap between his top and bottom halves saying, "it looks a lot worse than it probably is." We were all concerned but also thought that it would probably be OK. The party continues and I'm hanging out with a female friend of mine and, as we're standing near the warming trays (for the food that will be served in this large and dank mansion party) she admits that she pushed him down the stairs. And that our friend who broke her arm at the last party was pushed by her as well. The rest of the dream was trying to get back to my boyfriend to tell him about his friend who'd been sliced in half (our cell phones weren't working).

I hopped on the subway and I wasn't wearing shoes. I got off at 34th street and it was in ruins. It looked more like a dump site than a subway station and it was partially outdoors. I walked over piles of trash toward the exit and when I got there I was standing at the ocean. Cars were driving from the street into the water and disappearing. The tide was rising and I knew I had to get out of there but I couldn't get back up to the subway platform.

And then I woke up.

I have a feeling some of the craziness in the dream is due to the fact that I have just the tiniest bit of anxiety about my show tonight. I'm not stressed in any sense other than I'm a perfectionist and I want it to be, you guessed it, perfect. Only by my standards of course - but I have very high standards.

I should also note that this is the 2nd dream I've had in my lifetime where someone was cut in half and was breathing and talking like nothing had happened.

And on that note - why not come see my solo show tonight!

Paralyzed by Glennis
5 characters whose lives have been effected by living in fear.
Thursday, September 24th @ 7pm
The UCB Theatre
307 W 26th St @ 8th Ave



Thursday, September 10, 2009

Front Page Fun

Check out the video my darling and his cohorts made for the Crunch fitness contest. Who's that adorable girl talking about MP3 players?? Why - that's me!

Happy Fall!


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Two Things

Here are two things that happened recently that you NTK (Need To Know) about me.

First - I finally took my laundry in the other day. It was 30 POUNDS. That's a lot of dirty ditties, y'all! So I'm lugging it down the street by hand because A) I like the challenge and B) I didn't have time to take my cart back home after dropping it off. So I'm LUGGING it down the street and this dude sitting in a rape van says to me, "hey baby, that's a heavy bag." I, of course, ignore him and start to cross the street. He then says something else - which I didn't hear, but assumed was in the same vein (douche) - so I turn around, give him my Claire Stare* and said, "SERIOUSLY!?" and whipped around to continue my trek to the laundry. It was hot as balls, I was carrying 30 lbs of laundry and I just find cat calling lame. So I drop off my laundry and as I'm walking back he's still sitting there and he says to me... wait for it...

"I didn't mean to offend you."

BOOM! Claire Stare in action!!

Second - and this is gross so if you don't like gross stuff STOP READING NOW.

So, I'm eating lunch with my dad. We're not at a fancy place, just a diner, but still - we're in public. So I'm sitting there and my ear is itching. The inside. And I know it's gross to scratch your inner ear in front of people, but dudes - it's driving me nuts. So I give in and use my talons to dig around a bit in my right ear and when I pulled my nail out there was THE GROSSEST PIECE OF WAX EVER on it. I swear it had a face. AND HAIR. I'm not even kidding. And dudes, I clean my ears out a lot. Almost obsessively. Probably too much. So I'm not kidding when I tell you that this piece came from the depths of Glennis. Probably my brain. In fact - it might have been my conjoined twin! I was SO grossed out! And of course I couldn't stop looking at it and playing with it. Am I totally turning you off from me, guys? I'm sorry, but it was awesome and I need to share awesome things with you.

OK I think that's it. I'm in Boston recording voice overs for Carnival Cruise Lines - pretty soon when you call 1800-CARNIVALCRUISE (or something) you can hear MY VOICE! Yeah boyeeeee.

Check ya later, stinkbutts!



*The "Claire Stare" (TM GLENNIS MCMURRAY 2008) got its roots from the fabulous Claire Huxtable. You can use the Claire Stare to tame drunken girls, douchie guys and sometimes rabid dogs. It's very powerful. CLAIRE STARE!

Friday, August 07, 2009

A Few Recommendations

I'm headed to VT this weekend for some family time with the McCliments, but before I go I have a few recommendations for you.

First - my hair. You can't see it right now, but it looks fabulous. Well it doesn't look fabulous right now because I just woke up, but trust me it normally looks AWESOME. My friend Andrea is no joke, hands down the best hairstylist I've encountered in NY. I've been in NY for 11 years and grew up with a hairdresser for a mother... trust me. I also love to look good. So sit on it. And then call Andrea. She works out of her adorable home and is very reasonably priced.

HAIR by Andrea Palumbos

andrea . palumbos @ gmail . com

Next, my amazing friend Adira is going to be so huge you guys. Check out her new music video for her song "Fingerblast". She's on tour right now, but when she's back you should see her show. You will leave with stars shooting out your back side. She's that fun.

Next - do you like websites? I have one. I just updated it. Check it out!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some major relaxing to do in VT. And by relaxing I mean drinking my face off at my cousin's pub.

x's and o's


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Dream Role!

This Friday night my brand new show hits the stage! Dream Role is the dream-child of myself, Katina Corrao and Sara Jo Allocco which gives performers the opportunity to perform the role they've lusted after but will never play based on age, race or gender. Come see your favorite actors and comedians take the stage for their one and only chance to peform their DREAM ROLE!


-Kate Tellers (Gravid Water)
-Baron Vaughn (NY City Center's "Damn Yankees")
-Eliza Skinner (I Eat Pandas, AMC's "Life Coach")
-Jeff Hiller ("Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson" at the Public Theatre)
-Jessica Allen (Ms. Jackson)
-Shawn Hollenbach (Closet Cases)
-Adolpho Blair ("Across The Universe")
-Kathy Deitch (Broadway’s “Wicked”)
And featuring a very special "Dream Role Anthem" performed by your hosts!!

With accompaniment by the amazing Frank Spitznagel!

Friday, July 31st - 7pm
The Creek
1093 Jackson Ave.
LIC - First stop on the 7 Train

Hope you can make it!



PS - Want to be a part of a future Dream Role cast? Write to us at submitadreamrole @ gmail dot com.

Monday, July 13, 2009

The Striptease Bus Is Coming

My pals Billy and Adam from Harvard Sailing Team made a hilarious video and they asked me to be in it. Check it out as I do a really sexy (scary) striptease.

And check out for more of their videos!



Friday, June 26, 2009

A Little MJ Love

It's not much, but here's a video I shot with a bunch of pals back in 2006 as my audition to be Ellen's new DJ. I, of course, used an MJ song because there are no better songs to jam to on the planet.


RIP, Michael. Thanks for the sweet, sweet jams.



PS - Please don't call me.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

NY Stories

I am enjoy these a lot. If you haven't already watched, might I recommend comedian Jesse Popp (a friend of mine and a great person and stand up!) and The Singing Waitress from one of my favorite dives in the city - Marie's Crisis. A piano bar in the West Village that I used to frequent so often the piano player would see me come in, mouth, "give me 5!" and then would call me up to the piano to perch on a stool and sing a Gershwin number. Maggie has been the waitress there for years and years and she is one of the sweetest ladies on Earth.

I love little peaks into other people's lives. And this way it's totally legal!



Monday, June 22, 2009

Paralyzed by Glennis

This, my dear readers, is the poster for my new solo show: Paralyzed by Glennis! All the characters featured in this show have had their lives affected by living in fear.

I have operated from a place of fear for most of my life. Yep, it's true. I know you probably just fell off your chair because I'm such a loving and fabulous gal, but a lot of negative emotions are rooted in fear. This will affect your life, especially if you have no idea that that's what is going on. Jealousy, anger, denial - all forms of fear. I don't want to get all preachy but you get the idea.

One of my many obsessions is watching (mostly TV) shows about people who self-sabotage. I am fascinated by it. I think self-sabotage is the number one result of fear. I'm afraid to be happy/fabulous/rich/famous/smart/funny/etc. so I'm going to do everything in my power to keep myself from achieving those things. The ways in which people self-sabotage are infinite, but the end result is always the same and I can tell you one thing - it's not happiness. Some people just naturally operate from a place of love, but others have to fight to get through the shit-storm of fear to find happiness. And I love when they do because it reiterates my belief that no one wants to be miserable.

I'm taking a chance putting something I strongly believe in out there like this, but what's the other option? Letting my fear take over? I've tried that route and all it brings is misery and regret.

I hope I see your lovely and loving faces there. I really do.



Sunday, June 21, 2009

Fancy Pandies

Pandies as in Pandas as in I EAT. That's right, folks - if you haven't already heard about it through the Facebook grapevine, I Eat Pandas has gone extra fancy. We've pumped up the awesome to 2,000 (on a scale of 50) and we're kicking it all super hot style for you, the audience. Because without you we'd just be two super hotties and a kick-ass pianist talking to ourselves.

How are we fancier?

Well for one - we've stopped stealing. Eliza and I are, among other things, master thieves. We have a huge warehouse at the exact half-way point between our two houses and it's overflowing with cars, furs and diamonds. True, the cars are Fiats, the furs are squirrel and the diamonds are all set in Hello Kitty pendants, but all of it: stolen.

We're also fancier because we're getting grills put in our teeth. These grills:

Oh, did I forget to mention we're also becoming Vampires? We aren't stupid - we've noticed a trend in Vampire popularity lately and we're catching that train to stardom. The only difference in our case is we don't drink blood. Give us a nice bloody mary, thank you very much.

But the #1 fancy thing we've done of late is join forces with WET (Women's Expresive Theatre, Inc.) to move our show from the basement of a Gristedes to a fancy off-Broadway theatre. Can you dig that?!

We have two mo shows:

Mondays, June 22nd and June 29th at 9:30pm
DR2 Theatre - Union Square
103 East 15th Street
Btwn Union Sq East & Irving Place

To add to the fancy they provide patrons of our show with free snacks and drinks. Stella, wine, cheese, crudite... none of these words we even uttered pre-fancy!

And so I think it needs to be said - here's our one chance fancy don't let us down.

See you at the DR2!



Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Totes Profesh

I apologize if you've already read this on my Facebook feed, but it bears repeatin', y'all.

This morning I had a voice over job at a studio which already has a spotty track record with this gal. I was almost late for a job the other day because the casting director kept me in the room for 15 minutes saying 3 lines 20 different ways. Infuriating, dudes! But, hey... I booked the job so I really can't complain, riyeet?

So I show up this morning and the receptionist, who is one of those scary ladies you don't want to piss off by saying, "hello" the wrong way, is already huffing and puffing. I timidly tell her I'm there and take a seat and then it starts. She gets on the phone and starts yelling at someone. She is dropping F-bombs left and right not even attempting to cover them up for, you know, any clients that might be around. I am appalled by her lack of professionalism, but I'm also intrigued. I also can't help but listen because I CAN'T LEAVE. So I gather from her conversation that she's pissed about someone whose child is in the hospital. I think they accused her of not calling or checking in on them and she keeps repeating, "I tried to call! She knows me better than that! She can fucking call ME if she wants to talk." It was... sad. What made it increasingly hilarious was the fact that she had Lady Gaga's Poker Face on REPEAT. No joke, guys, from 10:30am - 11:15 and then from 1!:30 - 12:20 I sat there in terror as the scariest receptionist on Earth (TSROE) yelled and jammed simultaneously.

How does she keep her job you might ask? I might ask that too if I wasn't so damn frightened of her. She did answer the office phone a few times which made it even more hilarious since she switched on a dime into her "profesh" voice. The thing that made it most confusing was that everyone who seemed to work there just walked past completely unfazed by her screaming into the phone. Fucking sick kids! They make me so angry, too!!

I finally got the OK to leave and I booked it out of there faster than she could drop another F-bomb.

And this, my friends, has been an insight into a day in the life of yours truly.

x's and o's

You fuckers.


PS - I will never listen to Poker Face again. Count on that.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Girls Kick It

I know this is old news, but is there anything better than Beth Ditto?

No. No there is not.

Kick ass, ladies!


Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Obsessed with Obsessed

Have you ever felt dirty? No, not dirty... filthy. Like really just gross and filthy and disgusting? Like you're all bro I am COVERED in germs. And then you start to think about how dirty you are and that makes you want to wash your hands. 100 times a day. And then that's just not enough because guess what the grossest thing is? Grosser than dirt even? POOP. And guess who poops? EVERYONE. And that fuckin' grosses you out, but guess what? You still have to pooh! I mean unless you don't eat and how long can that possibly last. So you poop and then guess what? It's even more disgusting than you imagined and so you take a shower. But you just can't get clean! One hour, two hours... logic tells you a shower should do the trick and yet you still feel disgusting! That awful poop! It came out of your butt! Your butt is dirty!! And so what do you do THEN? Why you'd scrape out your bowels with a toothbrush of course!

Y'aaaaall! Am I freaking you out or what? That shit is not made up either. It's just one of my latest obsessions: the A&E show Obsessed which follows people struggling with OCD.


Imagine if thinking about germs lead you to the point where you're cleaning yourself out so thoroughly that are hospitalized not once, but twice for blood transfusions. I know, guys. I know.

And as gross and upsetting (and wicked nasty!) that is - I totally get it. My brain gets obsessed with stuff pretty easily and, according to Matt, I love to use the word "obsessed" to describe things that people are not in fact obsessed with. (Getting the same flavor of ice cream two times in a row and then mentioning that you love said flavor = obsessed.) I am obsessed with Obsessed.

When I was younger I remember I used to play the piano on my leg and if I didn't play the same notes, the same amount of times on each hand it would drive me crazy. I also become totally obsessed with songs and have to listen to them over and over until I'm sick of them. You might be saying, "yeah G, I do that too" but you'd be wrong. I do it to the point where I don't want to listen to the song and yet can not stop myself. I can not stop myself. Thankfully I don't scrape my eardrums out, y'all!

But seriously, yo, I think we all have some sort of OCD don't you? Sure as shit. Oh yeah I also sometimes say the same word over and over in my head until I can't not say it. Some of the words I find on repeat in my head are: Cornucopia, Dewitt, Arbitration and Class Action. Weird that most of them have to do with the law... I guess the law has a lot of fun words to say which is ironic because the law is anything but fun. Yeah you can try to sell it to me as much as you want, lawyers. Not buying.

But I digress...

The other 1/2 of the show featured a mathematician who was obsessed with working out. It seemed to me he had something like 5 gym memberships and he'd spend 8 or 9 minutes in each gym and work out upwards of 50 times a week. The funniest thing, and you should take notice of this if you watch (and why wouldn't you watch?) is that he had terrible form when working out. And he worked out in street clothes... I mean clearly changing is going to take even more time out of your day so why bother. I've seen guys like this at my gym and I could never figure it out. Now I know your secret! I felt especially bad for this guy because he had been doing this for something like 16 years. How do you break a 16-year-old habit?? Over you knee, y'all. Over your knee.

So my questions for you are - what are you obsessed with and WHY ARE YOU STILL READING THIS - go watch that show!!

(You can watch it here.)

Obsessively Yours,


PS - I just realized how obsessed I am - look at what I called our I Eat Pandas Facebook group!

Friday, June 05, 2009

Word, LA. Word.

Hey guys! What up!

I'm sitting at LAX waiting for my delayed flight to un-delay and get me back into the arms of my lover. NYC. What is it about you?

I missed NY and all it's convenience (subways), but I thoroughly enjoyed driving around in my sweet ride for a week. I rented a mid-sized from and when I got there the agent directed me to Section 2 and said, "pick a car." Did I go for the PT Loser? Snoway. Did I go for the Ford Snoozion? Nadachance. Did I see a hot Mustang sportsies with my name written all over it? Bazingo!

Souped up version of my ride.

Here's a question for the masses: why is my area at the airport the prime spot for people to stand and make phone calls and B) why does it smell like farts?

(Answer - I farted.)

So let's start from the beginning with the flight to LAX. Sat next to one of the most agitated men I've ever encountered. Sir Sighs-A-Lot. Christ dude, we all know flying sucks, but really? Annoyed by someone closing the bathroom door? Chill OUT homey! I spent the entire flight worried he'd snap and rip my head off my poor little frame. But, friends! Justice was served when, upon landing, he sneezed and his gum flew from his mouth to the pages of the book (on "Depression Era Economics") he was reading and stuck there. Talk about ANNOYED! Two words, dude. SUCK. IT.

I decided to get my ass in gear this trip so I worked out like a mofo. Firsts I ran on the beach which, need I say, is flippin' hard! I fell. Once. Ok, twice. Second time on purpose because the first fall was so fun. Then on the second day I went for a hike on Runyon Canyon. Runyon reminds me of Funions which I love to eat and are the opposite of working out. Side note. So I hiked up the Canyon and had a celebrity sighting. LC from The Hills! What!? I know. Kind of lame, but also kind of thrilling. Don't ask me why, friends. Don't ask. Anywhozits, I made it to the top before realizing that the earrings I had so vainly adorned myself in that morning (earrings on a hike? who am I, Claire's Boutique?) had fallen out of my jacket pocket. Some dog probably ate them because they were not to be found. I spent a good $6 on those earrings, folks. They will be missed. (And, to clarify, they were taken off because I walk with such a stride the back and forth motion became too much for my gentle lobes to take.)

On Tuesday night I went with Skinner to see one of the fliest groups on either coast at Largo: Magnolia Memoir. Headed by our Pandas West-Coast pianist, Alex Burke. The man has so many skillz he could pay off our national debt. The group was beyond amazing and Pandas was thrilled to have a few of them in the audience of our show on Thursday night. Friends sharing talent with friends. Warms my cockles (and balls).

Wednesday night I did a little something you might have heard of called STAND UP, BITCHES. Yep. Kicked it old school style on the stage at West Side Comedy and did a pretty good set if I do say so. And I do. 3rd time doing stand up! What? Killed it.

Thursday night was the reallybigshew! Pandas at UCB! We had a nice line outside the theatah and our crowd really ate up every tasty morsel we threw at them. Our suggestion was "Pony" and, now: a recap.

30-minute musical featured me as a woman named Phyllis who wanted her daughter, Claire, to call her Mommy. Claire was understandably hesitant as Phyllis killed Claire's birth mother and tried to raise Claire as her own - buying her love with Ponies. Phyllis met Eliza's 2nd character who was a horse-trainer haunted by the death of one of his students. He took the blame where Phyllis, who should have, did not. They met at a bar and learned a lot from each other. And drank a lot. Phyllis and Claire ended up in each others arms and lessons were learned.

15-minute musical featured me as a British pony lived in the land of magical ponies only - all the magical ponies disappeared because, why else, no one believed!! Eliza's pony character sent me back to the land of humans and convince one person to believe in magical ponies. British pony found herself in a cooling duct in an office building where Eliza's 2nd character, Bob, a cold, heartless businessman, took conference calls. British pony convinced Bob to believe and brought him back to the land of magical ponies...where they tried to kill him. Bob stopped believing and the ponies started disappearing again. And for the life of me I can't remember how it ended. WHAT!? Shit. It was good, trust me.

5-minute musical featured both our characters as merry-go-round horses trying to realize their dreams. Eliza's pony killed mine at the end and we burned to the ground. It's what we do.

And now here I sit at LAX waiting to get this bitch in the sky. Overall, the trip gets two snaps and a booty smack. Damn good time had by all!

Except the part where I threw up in my car. That was kind of shitty. But, hell man, what's a good time without a little vomit?


Monday, May 04, 2009

Mommies Day!

For all you new mommies out there, check out my pal Susan's adorable clothing line!

Hello, Banjo!

The clothes are insanely cute and I'm buying some for Matt's neice and nephew. Shhh. It's a surprise and they love the internet. (I'm kidding, they can't even read. Dummies!!)

Or, if you're not having one, why not pick up something for someone you know? It's never too early to give that little bump a gift and NY has baby fever!

Happy soon-to-be Mother's Day!



Parody Mondays

Since I've been having a rough couple of weeks and because song parodies make me so happy, I've decided to put my itunes on random and write song parody (titles) to each of the songs that come up.

Give Me One Gleason
A song about how the world needs another comedy talent like Jackie Gleason.
Original song: Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman

Tangled Up in Poo
(that's for you, Skinner)
A song about getting poo on your hands and finding it on your clothes throughout the rest of the day.
Original song: Tangled up in Blue by Bob Dylan

Don't Dream It's Grover
A song about how you'd rather date a slightly retarded puppet than your current boyfriend.
Original Song: Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House

Where Do Broken Farts Go?
(that one's for you, Lizard)
A song about a gas bubble who can't decide whether to become a fart or a burp.
Original song: Where Do Broken Hearts Go by Whitney Houston

Apprias(al) of Cory
A song about Cory Feldman's monetary worth.
Original song: Blaze of Glory by Bon Jovi

I Wanna Pee Or Hover
A song about having to pee but wanting to read what your co-worker is twittering about.
Original song: I Wanna Be Your Lover by Prince

Here, You Cum on Big Ben
A song about wanting to cum on Big Ben.
Original Song: Here You Come Again by Dolly Parton

Pony Trappers
A song about the egregious pony trapping crimes being committed every day in pony land.
Original Song: Phony Rappers by Tribe Called Quest

You'll Always Give me Rabies
A song about wild raccoons.
Original song: You'll Always Be My Baby by Mariah Carey.

And finally...

Ran In Lotion
A song about running a marathon while covered in lotion. It's a work in progress.
Original song: Man in Motion by John Parr

That's all.




I've been having the following debate with myself off and on for the last hour or so:

"I only wore this shirt for like 2 hours a couple of days ago. Can I get away with wearing it again to avoid sifting through the plastic bags to find another?"

Only - replace "shirt" with "underwear".

Hooray for my apartment!!



Thursday, April 30, 2009

Fascination Street

When we moved into our sweet little (bedbug infested) apartment in Williamsburg, our first order of business was to check out the local restaurants. Natch. We decided it would probably be best to take a walk a few blocks in either direction of our apartment. This was August of last year so there were people out in droves. As we walked to the right, the old men across the street noticed Matt's shock of red hair and immediately called out to him, "hey! you're the cable guy!" Matt, as always, graciously waved back, confirmed their assumption and we went on our way.

The first place we happened upon was a little diner called the Garden Grill. We popped in for a bite and it was instant mayhem. Here were more fans of the cable guy! Our meal was instantly that much more fun/hilarious as the man behind the counter (the owners son, we soon came to find out) tripped over himself at the thought that he was talking to the one and only cable guy. We enjoyed our meal, paid (what? no free food!?) and left, but not before the owners son got Matt's autograph and his website address promising he'd come to a show. Pretty nice!

The next time out of our apartment the old men were sitting outside again and, again, waved and shouted to Matt. This time there was a man on our side of the street yelling to an older, fatter man on the other side of the street. They had a good laugh, Matt kindly acknowledged them again and we decided this time to check out the diner directly across the street from us. The diner, we soon came to find out, that was frequented by a gaggle of old men. As we sat at the counter trying to enjoy our food, the largest, loudest of the old men carried on a conversation about Matt, but not including him in the convo. So it was stuff like, "I bet he gets bothered all the time! The Cable Guy! I bet he just wants to eat his food in silence! Why don't you fellas stop staring at him!" So... that was the last time we went there. Back to Garden Grill it was!

Every single time we go to the GG, the owner's son (the one on all the menus and the magnet which now decorates our fridge) says "hey! when are you performing! give me your website! CABLE GUY!!" to Matt and exactly ZILCH to me. Nothing. I can be standing IN FRONT of Matt and he'll still completely ignore me. Which, fine - I mean I get it. You are fascinated by someone who has been on your TV. Fine. But then one day as we were eating breakfast at GG, an older woman said, "are you the man from TV? Oooh I am going to tell my girlfriends I had breakfast with you! I mean, I know you have a..." and then she did one of those dismissive hand waves in my direction indicating that what she meant to say was "infectious disease." The nerve! And how do you respond to that? We both laughed a little - she laughed a lot.

Really, it's not a big deal that I'm ignored at Garden Grill. (I swear! Really! Why don't you believe me!!?) I just find it fascinating that to this day the oldies on our street are still completely in awe of having the cable guy on their block. I told Matt he should try and start a Ponzi scheme with their retirement money since they're so eager to be around him, and then he beat me with a sack of oranges for coming up with such a bad idea. Ahhh, true love!

This also just goes to show who Matt's target audience is: oldies. And gays. This didn't really prove my gay point, but trust me. The gay community is all over that red-headed god!

So the point is this: if you see a celebrity on the street, even if it's a man of commercial fame, say your bit to them and be on your way. I mean, I know older people have a pass because they're old and whatever, but it doesn't excuse common decency. And I know I'm going to sound a little bitter, but why not say hi to the person that they're with? What am I... I mean, ARE THEY... chopped liver??

Jadedly yours,


Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Glennis: The Meal

Every night, as I sleep, I am feasted upon. It's as if my apartment was a restaurant, my bed the plate and me the main course. All you can eat until dawn! (There's a very real possibility that I am feasted upon 2nd, Matt first, which would make me the dessert which, if we're being totally honest, is a little more accurate.)

I mean, I really can't blame the bed bugs for feasting on me. I am pretty delicious. Not that I'd know! But hey, who hasn't accidentally swallowed some of their own blood? From picking on a scab. On their knee. Don't judge me!!


Like I was saying - I really can't blame the bed bugs for feasting on me. And in some ways I'm very appreciative of the way they operate. For one thing, they wait until I'm fast asleep to feast which is very considerate! That way I don't have to know what's going on or feel the sting of the tiny creatures sucking the very life from my body. It's really very considerate. And I also have to give them props for not attacking my money maker! No, not my butt, pervs... my face. (Although sometimes my butt says stuff of higher quality than my face. I digress.) Not once have I had a bite on the kisser. So, really, I have to thank them for that as well.

I am, however, a little tired of the bites. I'm pretty allergic to them. And, though I appreciate the avoidance of my face, the bites on my feet - toes specifically - are pretty uncomfortable. As I type I have two on my toes, one on the top of my foot and one on the arch and another on my calf. Not very fun when wearing shoes, dear bedbugs!!

Now listen: I truly don't mind being a feast for any of god's creatures. If they didn't multiply so damn quickly and cause itchy, red welts I can't think of a reason I'd mind! As I said - I am pretty tasty. But, dammit, I am allergic and they do multiply and it's about time these fuckers were eradicated! And so we have a 2nd round of extermination coming in on Thursday to soak our pad with chemicals which give me a sore throat and a cough. That's gotta be healthy, right?

Now here's a very real fear that I must share with you. Bedbug ghosts. Do they exist? Will they haunt me for wiping out their family, who was probably brought into our home by us or someone we know and love? Will they carry teeny-tiny bedbug chains to haunt my attic (my hair)? Or will they try to learn to pick up a penny and then show up at my pottery wheel to make a vase with me? Are they going to hire a sassy black woman who speaks to the dead to come to my house and tell me, "ditto"? Does everyone get the movie I'm trying really hard to reference?!? No matter how cool a story it would make (which I'd tell if The Moth ever had a "Bedbug Haunting" themed night) I do not want.


But we're getting off the subject now. The point of this diatribe is that A) I am delicious, B) I need to stop picking my scabs and C) I am praying to whatever is out there that these bedbugs are wiped out. I feel bad, but hey. I canna take no more!

AH! AH HA! As I type this Matt found a bedbug on our curtain! Getting bolder are we, fuckers? Coming out in the daylight!? I SEE HOW IT IS.

Oh it is SO ON, you little bastards! This is war! I don't know what that means because there's not much more I can do aside from sleeping in a full berka but, hey, if that's what it takes to deprive you of your tasty Glennis platter then SO BE IT! Access: denied!

(Seriously, bedbugs suck so hard. Don't come over to my house. Or hug me. I will give you bedbugs. I'm disgusted with myself.)

Don't let the bedbugs bite! HAR HAR HAR.



Monday, April 27, 2009

Wedding Weekend Recap!

This past weekend my little sister, Kelsey, got married, you guys! Normally, I can't even finish that sentence before someone says, "you're next!" which is why I'm glad I'm writing this on my blog. No interruptions. Let's focus on the task at hand, people. One marriage at a time, thank you!

This wedding was, if I do say so myself, the best wedding I've ever been to. And it wasn't just because I was maid-of-honor, though that really did add to the overall awesomeness of the wedding. (I'm also available for hire even if I don't know you. I smell a movie plot!)

Leading up to the wedding, Kelsey and I had many a discussion about how dad might do. How long he'd last, if he'd get overwhelmed by the noises and people and general atmosphere. We planned on doing the father/daughter dance early in the evening and had our Aunt on stand-by to take him home when he seemed like he'd had enough. We also had a nurse with us from the home just in case he panicked or needed any sort of extra attention. We didn't at all expect him to be the life of the party!

Alzheimer's is a strange disease. Sometimes you forget that he's still in there and can understand a lot more than you think he can, especially in my dad's case, and that it might be a bunch of factors, in addition to the Alzheimer's, that are adding to his quiet nature. I think more than anything my dad remembers who he used to be, how smart and talented he was, and he hates that he isn't still able to communicate the way he wants to. It's hard to keep him in the present and help him to forget the embarrassment that goes along with the disease, but when you can accomplish that, let me tell you - it's amazing.

Dad knew exactly what was going on that day. The way he looked at Kelsey... it was beautiful. So much pride and joy and complete awe that this beautiful bride was his daughter. Walking down the aisle - yeesh. That was rough keeping it together. Dad was crying, I was tear-streaked (yay for pictures!) and Kelsey was just begging him to keep it together. It was pretty amazing. But there was still the reception which was 2 hours away. We had no idea how he'd respond to that.

Dad was absolutely and totally amazing. He was in the center of the dance floor dancing up a STORM! And I know it wasn't just me who felt how special that was. Often times, when I visit him in the home, he seems to be disappearing into himself. He's afraid to speak and, when he does, it's very stilted and frustrated. On that dance floor he was a different person. He was having the time of his LIFE. Even when modern, loud, bass-ey dance music would start up he just kept on dancing his little heart out. Clapping along, connecting with everyone, not a care in the world.

At one point Matt went up to him on the floor and told him how good he looked in his suit and he responded without losing a beat, "they forced me in this thing!" I came over a little later and said, "hey who's this guy dancing up a storm!? I don't even know you!" and he responded, "then get out of here!" It's the same old playful ribbing we used to engage in before he got sick. It was fabulous.

At the end of the night they had to drag him off that dance floor. He could have danced all night. He was amazing and I will never underestimate him again!!

Kelsey and Frank had a fabulous night as well, not a stitch was out of place. The whole day ran as smoothly as we could have hoped for. It was a gathering of family that have their differences, but for one night understood how important it was to recognize the love we have for each other. I don't think the night would have been nearly as special if dad hadn't been there.



Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Doc Drama

My favorite genre of film, far and above any other, is a good, juicy documentary. I've also heard it said that the documentary is among the most manipulative of films and I am ripe for manipulation (when it comes to documentaries). In the past few days I've realized what an evil corporation Wal-Mart is (something I peripherally knew but not to what extent), how hard it was to star in Annie on Broadway in the 70's, how terrible some pig slaughterhouse practices are and just how much genetically altered corn is in our food. I don't care if it is manipulative - this shit makes you think!

After watching "Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Prices" I vowed never to shop at Wal-Mart again. That's fairly easy since we don't have a WM in NY, but it also made me realize how important it is to go to Mom & Pop stores instead of big chains. Sorry, Poppa John's. You'll have to let some other attractive comedian stuff you in her face when she gets emotional.

And speaking of pizza... "King Corn," the documentary about how prevalent modified corn has become in our food system made me never want to eat high fructose corn syrup again. Especially since there are reports it contains mercury. What? Mercury!? But wait, what does Mercury do to our bodies? HOLY SHIT. No thank you! Did you know that corn-fed cattle is being poisoned by eating a steady diet of nothing but genetically-altered corn? And then we're eating that meat? Not any more, brother. Not if I can help it - and I can. (This also reminds me to mention the part of the movie where they have genetically-altered corn so that the new pesticide they've created to kill the weeds in the crops doesn't affect the corn. The weeds? Hemp. Guess what guys - we can use hemp for a lot of things that don't include smoking it. You're killing the wrong plants!)

This reminds me of another documentary I watched about a bunch of people living in the mountains of America who sit around feeding their kids Mountain Dew. Ironic. And terrible. Poor dumb little mountain folk rotting their teeth and brains with soda full of sugars and mercury. Mmmm. Mercury. No more soda for this girl!

Then I took in the amazing doc, "Life After Tomorrow" which pretty much just confirmed what I already knew - my future children will never be child stars. Nope. No thanks. The doc interviewed a bunch of the kids who starred in the touring company and Broadway production of Annie in the 70s. They had fame, and I'm talking eating-dinner-with-Muhamed-Ali-singing-for-the-President fame. And 20 years later what are they left with? One big chip on their shoulders. Sad but also amazing and totally re-watchable.

I tried to watch a documentary on the cruelty toward pigs before they are slaughtered and I couldn't even get through 13 minutes. I believe it was called "Death on a Factory Farm" so I really shouldn't have been surprised. I still shudder when I think about the things I saw in those 13 minutes. Poor little piglet! No more bacon for this girl!

The list of things I can eat is slowly shrinking and I think that's probably the best thing I've done in years. I was a fast food, diet soda, candy junkie. So my new diet is called "Eat With Your Brain Not Your Stomach, McMurray!" I'm sure it will change a few things including my skin and my body - so far I feel good and it's only been a day. Boom!

So I guess the next documentary I need to watch should answer the question my boyfriend brings up a lot. If the flouride in our drinking water is for our teeth then why are we swallowing it? I need to research this a little more but if anyone has seen a doc which deals with this let me know.

Oh and I'll just add one caveat to the aforementioned diet - the one thing I will not be giving up is coffee. And that's that. Athankyew.

Have a great day!!



Monday, April 13, 2009

Birthday Asshole

This past weekend I had the most amazing birthday party. It more than made up for the skating incident. I got plenty snockered and was surrounded by people I loved and, because I love my girl Britney Spears I get a little animated when her songs come on. And now, thanks to the fabulous Jay Bois, I have proof.

And so I give to you, dear Glesbian, The Birthday Dance. (aka - Glennis is an Asshole)



Sunday, April 12, 2009

Skating Racists

My socks, they were striped.
And I had a frog balloon.
Then - skating racists.

I was in LA for an I Eat Pandas show last week.  It was also the week leading up to my birthday and, because I have a bunch of LA pals who couldn't be in NY for my party, I decided to have a roller skating birthday party - West Coast Style!  After a quick internet search, Eliza found World on Wheels on Venice Blvd. in LA and it was a GO.

My experience with roller skating is extensive and yet I haven't skated in years.  I used to be a pro.  And by pro I mean I had roller skating birthday parties in Farmington, NM as a kid.  I was actually really good!  I even beat the shortest boy in our class at a roller limbo contest.  And he was really short.  I haven't skated in years but I now own my own pair of pristine white skates with bubble gum pink wheels.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was really excited to skate.

Now here's how it went down, people.  We arrived promptly at 8pm, got our skates, Luci and Michael gave me a googlie-eyed frog balloon and we hit the rink.  The rink was down a short ramp, so the area where you got your skates and played air hockey was raised above it.  Those not brave enough to don the skates stood up there and watched.  But not us.  Not me and my awesome friends.  We don't watch the skate, we participate.

At first everyone was really helpful and awesome.  There was a chick in a pink sweatband and pig tails who was helping Sara Jo her first time around the rink.  And then I noticed two things - A) aside from my group of friends everyone on the rink was a great-to-excellent skater and B) a majority of the crowd was middle aged and black.  I noticed it and then thought about how skating was probably pretty big in the 70s and that's why everyone was so good.  I wanted to be that good again and so I started pushing myself to get better.  I mean, this was a birthday party and my friends were mostly hanging in the middle talking, but when I get something stuck in my mind I get kind of crazy about it.  So I pushed myself to go faster and, aside from a few little brushes with other speeding skaters, I was doing pretty well.

At one point I was skating on the outer lane and one of the really good skaters came over to me and told me that I was the fast lane and that I should skate closer to the island in the middle where people took breaks.  I moved closer to the middle, but I vowed to work my way up to at least skating as well as the people in the outer lane.

Eventually the lights turned down, the disco ball lit up and it was pure disco heaven.  I built my confidence level with each lap and eventually forgot I had been at all uneasy on skates.  It was awesome!  Around and around I rolled.  Humming along to the music and really just happy as could be.  One lap around I noticed Luci standing up near the air hockey table and where I'd tied my frog balloon.  I caught her eye and waved.  She waved back and just as I passed her I felt two hands on my back and I went down.  Hard.  I immediately looked behind me to find out who had fallen - assuming someone had grabbed me on their way down - but there was no one there.  I looked up at Luci and she was just turning her head toward me so I realized she hadn't seen anything.  I stood up against the wall and tried to regain my composure but I was starting to realize that I had been pushed and I was really shaken.  A woman skated up to me and said, "You need to get off the rink.  You need to get out of this lane" and then skated away.  I rolled over to the island and sat down - trying not to cry.  Eliza skated over and said that a woman had come up behind me and pushed me down.  I was shocked.  She pointed her out to me and the woman was probably about 50 years old and I had never seen nor made contact with her before that point in the night.  Unbelievable.

After realizing what had happened we decided to make our way off the rink since it was pretty clear we weren't wanted.  At this point the skaters had doubled and getting off the rink was an accident waiting to happen.  And what an accident it was.  My dear friend Claire, as she was carefully trying to make her way off the floor, was smashed into at full speed by a man skating backward.  Claire hit the floor, broke her elbow and needs surgery to fix it.  I know, right!?  WHAT THE FUCK.  Two guys helped her up but were grabbing her arm as she cried out in pain that she thought it was broken.  By the time she was off the floor she was in tears and couldn't feel her fingers.


Claire is a tough cookie.  I Skyped with her today and she looks great.  She's going to try and get the rink to cover her medical bills with liability insurance (she doesn't have health insurance), but if they don't (and if we can't sue the crap out of them) Eliza suggested a fundraiser to help raise money for her bills and I couldn't agree more.  Poor Claire!

For the rest of the night and the rest of the next day I could not help but think about that woman who pushed me.  It reminded me of the 3 girls who tormented me my Sophomore year of high school.  Just because they had heard a rumor and believed it.  I just don't understand something like that.  I'm angry/sad/insecure and I'm gonna take it out on you.  Maybe the roller incident wasn't a hate crime in the racial sense, but it sure felt like one.  You don't push a stranger down from behind if you've got love in your heart.  I'm pretty sure of that.  And I know that her comeuppance will be her own guilt eating away day after day until she dies, sad and alone surrounded by bags of her own feces, but it's hard to be ok with that.  I'm so fucking sick of assholes raining on your parade because you're happy.  Why does it matter to you if I'm a happy person?  Why?  I'll tell you why - because you're not.  Why don't you deal with that and leave the rest of us alone.

We all have a choice about how we act, feel or respond in any given situation no matter what we have had happen to us or are currently going through.

Just be nice to each other.  OK?



Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Taking Over The Net

Hey all you Glesbians!

Thought there was enough Glennis to last a lifetime on the old web? Well you were wrong! We were able to stuff a few more tasty morsels in there and still have room for all that sheep porn you so love and need.

First up...

Check out the documentary that was done on I Eat Pandas. If you know me, and I think you do, I am a huge fan of documentaries. I live for the moment a new doc appears on iTunes or Showtimes/HBO On Demand. (Well, that and a perfectly cooked french fry.) True, ours is only about 4-minutes long, but a documentary it is, still! I was unsure of how it would turn out and, even though they showcased a lot of Eliza at her stupid day job (that has little to do with our creative process), I think it turned out pretty spectacularly.


I Eat Pandas' promos for The Tudors on Showtime are live! If I haven't written about this before, we were hired to write and star in promos for their steamy hit show. The first two seasons are up and we'll have a new one for each episode of Season 3. Woo hoo!

In other Glennis news - I just returned from Rhode Island where we helped welcome our new nephew James Michael McCarthy into the world! He is, if I do say so myself, the most perfect little baby I've ever seen in my life. It was especially exciting for me because I really feel like I'm a part of the McCarthy family so it was sort of like the first baby in my family, too. I just couldn't stop staring at his perfect little face. Good job, guys!

And in not so good news - we have bed bugs. Yep. That's what nights performing in dingy clubs throughout NY will do to you. I thought the bites I was getting were spider bites, but after reading more into it I had to accept the truth. Bed bugs again. I had them about 4 or 5 years ago and they were easy enough to get rid of. I'm hoping we caught them early enough that, with some consistency, we'll be able to eradicate them in our household for good!

If all else fails we'll just move. But seriously, we're looking to buy a place. If anyone has leads on a hot piece of ass, let me know.

Hope you're having a wonderful week, dear readers. Stay bed bug-free, please.



Friday, March 20, 2009

Stress Buster

If you look up "stress" in the dictionary there is probably a picture of me beside it. I am a tightly-wound, nail-biting, teeth-gnashing, shoulder-scrunching ball of stress. I've had shingles (adult chicken pox - very painful! Very rare in people my age.) and burst a blood vessel in my eye while singing on stage (and kept performing! you know this. you read my blog.).

Tomorrow I'm driving to Ohio with my sister and our friend a RN, Corrine, to pick up my 64-year-old father with Alzheimer's to bring him to a nursing home in Long Island.

You can imagine my level of stress today!! It's not just the drive or the fact that my father is now incontinent (thank god for Corrine!), it's that I haven't seen him in a while and my real fear/stress is that he won't remember me.

And so I'm trying to think of and do things that relieve that stress so it doesn't build up and cause my legs to be sucked up into my butthole. Here's what I've come up with so far:

1. Drinking contest
2. Eating contest
3. Judging a contest for baby ducks, kittens or turtles (wearing clothes!)
4. Sit next to a fat, sleeping man on the train - zone out to the sounds of his heavy breathing
5. Call my old landlord to tell her what a cunt she is
6. Laugh (at the less fortunate)
7. Remodel my kitchen using a sledgehammer and chainsaw
8. Getting high contest
9. Get hit by a bus, go into coma, wake up rested
10. Punch a hole in something (I'm looking at you, door)

In reality I'll probably just curl up and watch the DVD of Pinnochio my sweetie just brought home for me.

Wish (upon a star) me luck tomorrow. I'll be letting the GPS be my guide to a stress-free trip.



Wednesday, March 18, 2009

L.A. Girls

My ladies - I just bought L.A. Girl Flare nail polish in neon pink for $5 from Urban Outfitters and it dries in about 30-seconds. It doesn't LAST that long, unfortunately, but when the touch-ups take less than a minute, who cares!

And speaking of LA Girls... I Eat Pandas is heading back to LA for more madcap fun Arpil 6-10! We have a show at Comedy Central Stages on April 7th at 8pm. And the best part - the show is free!! Good lookin' out, Pandas.

Photo by Anya Garrett
And that's all for now.



Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I Lied

I couldn't even make it a year before I came running back to you, half-naked, wild eyed eating chicken, dear blog! I missed you. Let's never break up again.