Glesbo

Charleston Recap

2011-01-24T14:09:00.000-05:00

I'll be recapping my insane weekend at the Charleston Comedy Festival on G.L.O.C. so I can highlight the ladies & gents I interacted with and follow-up on my pre-fest interviews with some of the GLOCs in attendance, but before I get to that here's an update from the women-hating women department of the Charleston City Paper.

"...or something like that."

Great writing, Erica. Congrats.

PLaserList

2010-11-15T09:53:00.001-05:00

On any given day as I gently float down the streets of New York, falling flat on my face only occasionally to ensure all that I'm still human, you can find me with hot jams tickling my ear drums. My steps punctuated by each firey beat, my fierce 'tude a mainline from the jam itself, the hits influence my very being. I pound the pavement more often than I mold a chair so often the songs I choose carry me from first to last step and over the threshold to my home like a melodic groom. I love music (and, yes, I would marry it) and so, by request from the lovely Ann Carr I present you with a few of my current obsessions in song or: My PLaserList. (Pew pew pew... laser jams making a b-line to your brain!)

1. Girlfriend - Pebbles
My girl(friend) Pebbles knows how to tell it like it is! I can think of a few times in the history of G that I should have heeded her fierce advice. This song is way more than, "Cute. Cute, cute, cute."

2. Ain't Nobody - Chaka Khan
I mean, can this be my wedding song? Would that be cool with you guys? Cuz I might insist on it. Let this song wrap its charms around you.

3. The Girls Want to Be With the Girls - Talking Heads
Oh David Byrne, you get me. (Er... Us.) Hearts.

4. The Glamorous Life - Sheila E
Sheila E is here to remind us that being strong, independant women with big thoughts, big dreams (and a big brown mercedes sedan?) is great, but don't forget the most important thing in life: love. Amen, girl.

5. Whip My Hair - Willow Smith
Ain't no shame in loving this song, whip it with me y'all!

6. Your Love - Nicki Minaj
Shawty Imma only tell you this once, you the illest (dat for dat dat dude), and for your lovin' Imma Die Hard like Bruce Willis. You dig?

7. Right as Rain - Adele
Totally infectious and danceable plus Adele's killer voice. Hot!

8. Valerie - Mark Ronson
Darling, how can you resist!? I know I've got a hot jam on my hands when my Dead Head, jam band-loving lover gets down with it. You simply can't resist!

9. Can't Hold Us Down - Christina Aguilera (ft. Lil' Kim)
This song has cheese pouring from it's bass licks, but it's insanely catchy and shoves girl power in your face. Highly approve!

10. The Fame - Lady Gaga
Not the obvious choice, but my current obsession. Boom!

11. Let's Stay Together - Tina Turner
Try not to think of her singing this to Ike and you'll do just fine. Tinaaaa!

12. I Go To Rio - Peter Allen
You just can't stop this song! Try it! Go ahead and try it! You can't, can you?? It's as hot as Rio!

13. I'm Not Your Toy - La Roux
This song is too good. In fact I'd recommend the entire album. Infectious beats, dangerous lyrics - dance hall Annie Lennox. Totally obsessed.

14. Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
I just want to be drenched in sweat in the middle of the dance floor when this song comes on. So hot.

15. Strut - Sheena Easton
Oh god this song is just... IT. I can't listen to it sitting down - say, in a car - because I will bust out the door mid-drive and strut myself straight to the hospital. It's that good.

And, at the risk of creating a hot one hundred hot list I'll stop at an even fifteen. A nice, even fifteen. (Shhh) Thus concludes my current music obsessions. Enjoy!

Love,

Glennis

Dear Lindsay

2010-11-11T09:08:00.001-05:00

Giiiiirl, how are you? No seriously - how are you? Is everything OK? Cuz it really doesn't feel that way. Feels kind of like you're in a dark place with your arm stuck under a rock. Like you were just walking along and then you fell in a crevasse and this rock pinned you and now you have to gnaw your arm off to get free. Do you feel like gnawing your arm off? That's just an analogy... I don't really think you want to gnaw an appendage off. (Well, maybe your ankle LOL.)

Anyway, just checking in. Call me!

Love,

Glennis

PS - I'm not saying I'm necessarily worried about you. I know what a firecracker you are! I know you'll bounce back! It's just, well, you kind of seem blue. And maybe, well, maybe like you're losing your mind a little. And, listen, I totally get it. I thank my stars I wasn't a child actor with fucked up parents. (I was just a child with fucked up parents LOL.) I mean life was hard enough as it was, but add millions of dollars to the mix and I can only imagine how you must feel! So I toooootally get you. I just want you to know that if you ever feel like talking I'm here. CALL ME!

PPS - Just use your words, you know? Use your words.

PPPS - Like if I did something to piss you off just TELL ME! You know? Just TELL ME. OK, that's all. Love ya! xo

PPPPS - Because do I really need to say that I get you, man! I get having a shitty relationship with your father and taking it out on yourself. Boy do I get that. I mean, sure, your dad is in a league of his own, but isn't the sentiment the same at the heart of the matter? Anyway, I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here. I just want you to know I GET YOU. OK, seriously - call me.

PPPPPS - I mean, I'm trying really hard to be rational here, you know? LOL!!! I just don't want to ruin what we have, you know? I think you're really great and I'm really trying to keep my cool over here. So, just, you know. Call me or something and we'll talk. Let's just TALK. OK. OK. ...OK.

PPPPPPS - No, but seriously - fuck it. Who am I kidding, over here?? I'm pissed! You knew what you were doing... don't give me that innocent crap. You really fucked me over this year!! I was gonna be living large and you made sure to shove that money train right off the tracks. I mean you really left me cold and broken on the bathroom floor! And the worst part is - you know what that's like! I mean your video for "Confessions of a Broken Heart" of course. I mean, shit. We GET each other, girl! Or at least I thought we did. I guess I just don't know you anymore.

PPPPPPPS - OK so I'm just going to come right out and say it. That commercial had NOTHING to do with you. Like, literally, nothing. You know what nothing is right? It's the lack of something. The absence of things, things being you as the "hidden meaning" of that commercial. I was hired to do a voice and that was it. Why would I do something to hurt you? I was just trying to do my job! I mean think about it - you've done nothing to me - am I some psycho who just goes around hurting innocent people? You know I'm not that person! If you had done something to piss me off I would have called you and been like, "dude you really pissed me off!" and then you would have been like, "what did I do??" and I would have been all, "you borrowed my antique measuring cup and broke the handle off then tried to glue it back on and pass it off when you should have just told me you broke it in the first place. You know I care more about you then some stupid measuring cup from the 50s! Come on, girl! You know that!" And then we would have gotten together for some egg nog ice cream and pound cake (our fave!), snuggled on the couch and finished watching Season 1 of Damages. Instead you chose to stab me in the back and I'm really pissed! Fuck! I don't know if we can be friends again. Seriously, I think this might be a deal-breaker, lady.

PPPPPPPPS - SO I NAMED THE BABY LINDSAY. So what!? There are a currently about a million people named Lindsay. And that crap about you being synonymous with the name Lindsay that is just crap! You're not Cher, dude. You starred in a few movies and made some shitty records. Get over yourself!

PPPPPPPPPS - Sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to low-blow you like that. I love your movies and your music. Really! I play your songs all the time. A lot of your songs! So, yeah, I named the baby Lindsay and called her a "milk-a-holic". It's true. Shit, I know how it sounds, boo. I know you must have seen that spot and thought what a raging bitch I was. You probably threw a few things. I know your temper ;) (Remember the stool through my parent's sliding glass door??? LOL!) But you have to believe it was purely coincidental. The producers were looking for a baby name that sounded edgy and the first name that popped in my head was Lindsay. (Um - you should totally feel honored by that, btw.) And the "milk-a-holic" thing was just a hilarious joke about babies! Wait... do you get it? Maybe that's the problem - you don't get it. See... cuz babies don't date each other, yano? So the whole commercial in the first place is just ridiculous. Yano? I mean, it starts off with a girl baby TALKING, first of all... and it's and adult voice (MY voice) so right off the bat you're like, "oh man I get this commercial - it's a joke!" And then the girl baby is like "where were you last night??" which, let's face it, we both get. Dating an unfaithful guy bites the big one. Been there, done that, right sister? I mean, we chose different ways of dealing with it, but still. (Me - therapy. You - Samantha. LOL!) So anyway, the commercial is parodying adult relationships in kids so it's funny to call the "tramp baby" at the end a "milk-a-holic" because she's a baby who... are you getting this at all? It was a joke that had nothing to do with you. Plain and simple. A joke. Anyway, I guess I'll talk to you in person about this at some point. Love you like a sister. SWAK!

PPPPPPPPPPS - No, wait... I'm sorry. The more I think about this the more it pisses me off. You sued them, dude! You sued E*Trade for 100 MILLION DOLLARS!! Why not make it a billion! Jesus! Like, are you even kidding me right now? They took that spot off the air. It was the number 3 Super Bowl spot, it probably would have run ALL TIME and you had it taken off the air. Do you understand what that did to my bank account? Can you say overdrawn? Do you know what that's like? Do you know what it's like to fend for yourself financially from the time you're 19?? Do you have any fucking idea?? It's really hard! Do you KNOW what it's like to book a job which means financial security for a little while so I don't have to think about money all the goddamn time? I mean, do you even get the plight of the everyman or are you too busy snorting your money up your fucking nose? Huh?? Huh!!? Do you get that at ALL!?!? Seriously, dude. Fuck you.

PPPPPPPPPPPS - OK, I went to far that time for realz. I'm really sorry. (And what was that "plight of the everyman" crap? Who do I think I am - your dad!? :P ) Ug, Linds... it's just... it's just a shitty situation. You really put me in a bitch of a tight spot. I guess it's over now and there's not a lot that can be done. I guess I forgive you in the end. I feel like there's a lot of shit going on in your life I don't know about. Anyway, call me some time and we'll talk. Sorry again about the snorting money up your nose comment. I really do hope you're doing well.

(But seriously, how 'bout a few bones from the settlement, eh? Help a sister out? LOL!)

I Love a Surprise

2010-11-09T10:56:00.002-05:00

Is there anything better than a surprise party? Hardly. The thrill, the sneak, the unveil - it's beautiful. It's better than the best thing ever. Even winning the Olympics. ALL of the Olympics. It's perfect. It's not only a party it's an instant party! A party full of people you love in the blink of an eye.

I pulled off the surprise of the century for my boo on Saturday night. The planning started only a week before when I realized November snuck up on me like a sneeze-fart: fast and furious. I looked at my calendar, saw there were only 9 days until the celebration of the man who rocks my LIFE, and knew I had to act fast. I knew I wanted to do something big and, because I love a challenge (and a surprise, see: title), I settled on a surprise party and set the wheels in motion for a mere 5-days away. The clock was a-tickin' down.

Planning a surprise is hard enough, but planning it for someone you live with IN the place you live is near impossible. I had to call in many favors and every single person without exception delivered. With golden fists of fury! God, we have great friends. The guise was set: a meeting with comedy pal and bestie Vince to commence at 7pm on the night of the party. That plan quickly fell through when our worst fears were realized. He said no! (WhyIoughta...) Vince's lady, Jodi, suggested I take him to dinner instead which was a grand plan B, but one which would need a lot of additional help. I called in reinforcements in the form of Fire! (Kate Tellers), Water! (Marcy Girt), Air! (Carrie Faverty) and Earth! (Jason Falchook). They jumped at the challenge and delivered a 9-pound baby boy named Matt McCarthy. Well, his surprise party anyway. So, at 7pm the night of the fete, I took Matt to Sel de Mer where we laboriously dined on lobster, fries and Budweiser tall boys while the Fearsome Foursome TCB, all the while my stomach turning over in antici..... (say it!). And boy was he ever surprised. Not a clue! Never have I seen him move as quickly in my life. It was... beautiful.

Sooplize! (photo: Jason Falchook)

I pulled off a surprise of grand proportions once before when Mini McMurray (my little sister) came to visit for her 21st birthday. Kelsey now lives in Long Island with her honey Frank, but at the time she still resided in Colorado so I wanted to make her visit one of a kind. It was her 21st birthday after all! Since she had nobody to really celebrate with here in NY, I planned a fake surprise party in my apartment with my two friends Marcy and Noni. She walked in to sad little streamers, a cake with melted frosting (Hap Birthdayyy Kelsss) and a few gag gifts. She was nonetheless thrilled. She's a lot of things but a diva she is not. I told her post-cake we'd go to a nearby bar, Blackbear Lodge, for some $3 margaritas and Big Buck Hunter and that WAS the plan... with a detour on the way. As we walked down the street toward the bar we passed a limo. I turn to Kelsey and say, "dare me to get in that limo?"

"Ha ha ha, yeah I dare you," she said.

"Do you REALLY DARE ME?"

"Glennis... wait..."

"OK!"

And with that I ran over and hopped in the limo, rolled down the window and shouted, "Happy birthday, bitch! This is YOUR limo!" And then I reveled in the look on her face the rest of the night.

I love a surprise. It's a wonderful change of pace, but beyond that, after planning and executing a real, lights-up, everyone-you-love-in-one-room surprise party, I realized I've loved a surprise party my entire life. Every single year since... as long as I can remember, I've wished and hoped for one planned in my honor. To me it came to signify, well, love. Look at all this work we did for you! Look at all these people who showed up! Look at the time and planning done in your honor! We love you! I thought if my family was unable to show they loved me in certain ways a surprise party was a wonderful way to make up for it. But, and not to throw myself a surprise pity-party here, it never happened. But actually I'd assume that's the case for most people. (And if it's not, if every single one of you has had a surprise party thrown for you... DON'T TELL ME.) Most people don't have the surprise of their life and even sadder than that, don't celebrate their birthday at all.

How can you not?? How can you not celebrate the day you were born?! I'm not getting on my soapbox, I swear, but I just wonder what the reasoning is behind that. I guess celebrating could just not be your thing. I hope it's not that you don't think you're worth a celebration! (WhyIoughta...) For me, my birthday was the one day a year I got to be the center of attention. I know that sounds crazy me being an actress and all, (an actress with self-esteem issues... alert the presses!), but I felt it was the one day I could ask people to come and deal with my antics without a tinge of guilt or self-doubt on my part. It was also the one day I could ask them to make t-shirts/do karaoke/don wigs/spend $90 on dinner and basically act a fool. And so, upon moving to NY, I decided I was going to do my birthday up big times.

The T-Shirt Party of 2006
I provided t-shirts, markers and a few art supplies (hehe, supplies!) and people did the rest.

Truth

A Dangerous Question

The Creator of the "Glesbian" title, Ms. Kate Tellers

Be Fre!

PLEASE NOTE: I did not ask, nor require the use of my name in the making of said shirts. (But I didn't discourage it either.)

The Wig/Karaoke Party of 2007
I asked people to don wigs and sing songs and they delivered. Boy did they deliver.

Name Fail

First time in the big city.

Quiet, please. There's a lady on stage.

You-ah, you-ah, you-ah oughta know.

Willie showed up with his puff jacket stuffed with kind bud.

Jezus kreist. Why are these buttons so small!?

I invited him because I had a huge crush and when he showed up I peed a little. Now we're getting married!

The Dirtbag Potluck/Karaoke/Wig Party of 2008
I asked, once again, for the donning of wigs with the addition of a dirty, nasty, delicious dirtbag potluck dish.

Pre-party wig placements.

Serious Musical Soul Sisters

The "Dirtbag Potluck" portion of the evening.

Now they havin a baby, y'all! A wig baby!

Brandon took his wig a little too seriously.

Cheespuff Monroe

Yunz want some Cheetahs?

Eazy Squeezy Cheese Pants

Sammy's Roumanian Fete of 2009

This...

And this. Nuff said.

And the parties have continued to rock out Sammy's Roumanian-style every since and will continue to do so every year until I die.

I love a surprise, but my need for a surprise party to be thrown in my honor has faded and, I think, been sated. No longer is it the only way I know to feel loved, though throwing the fete for Matt was indeed love-fueled and love-themed. All these parties I threw for myself were just as full of love and people who have now become my NY family. So no surprises for Glennis, though if you're set on throwing one wait until my death day. What a way to go!

Love,

Glennis

Triple F!

2010-11-05T11:42:00.003-04:00

If you were to ask me what this world needs more of, first I'd give you the Clair Stare for not already knowing the answer, then I'd tell you in two words: Triple Fs. Aka Fierce Fabulous Fems. Amirite, people?? I'm getting a little F-E-D Fed Up with hearing women say they're "crazy", "insane" or "broken" and don't deserve what they make abundantly clear they desire. Everyone deserves happiness but you, right? Wrong. Every, and I do mean every, woman out there can be a goddamn rock star, it just takes a few minor tweaks (and maybe some therapy - you knew it was coming), some pointers from me, and a good old college try. Here are a few tips I picked up on my road to becoming a Triple F.

EXCUSES - LEARNING TO RECOGNIZE AND NIP

"I'll have confidence when my stomach is flat/ass is smaller/thighs don't jiggle."

"A husband and kids with THIS NOSE??"

"Papa can you hear me? No, you can't. I'm an unlovable monster!"

"I'm just a socially awkward weirdo. Drinks on me!"

Sound familiar? They do to me because they're all things I've said and have let hold me back. Pretty sad if I do say so myself. (And I do.) It's not the worst thing in the world by any means, but it's a downright shame. I know there are ladies out there thinking similar thoughts on a daily basis. So here's the thing, we all have residual shit from childhood. I used to be *squawked* at every time I'd walk into my middle school art class. They called me "Beak". As in "BIRD BEAK". No joke, guys, it stuck with me and I didn't even realize I was seeing my nose through their eyes. I don't have a big nose, but if I did wtf cares? Good old Bette Davis put it best when she said, "If you hate your parents for willing you buck teeth, have them fixed or become a comic - only keep quiet about it." I think we'd all agree that Ms. Davis was a Triple F, yes? So stop hating and start heeding!! Stop making excuses, start making out with yourself! If you hate your nose either fix it or MOVE ON WITH YOUR LIFE.

You know who doesn't use excuses? Rosemarie Siggins aka "The Woman with Half a Body" (thank you Discovery Health). She had her legs amputated at a young age because of a genetic condition and now gets around using her arms and a sweet skateboard. I mean, literally, best excuse ever to not move forward with your life, right? You literally have no legs to do the moving forward. But did she sit at home moping, beating herself up and name-calling? No! She got out there! She met a man, had kids, BOOM! Are you really going to tell me you're not good enough while looking at a serious Triple F like Rosemarie Siggins? Give me a serious break.

Serious Rockstar and Lover of America

SELF RESPECT

Adding some self respect to the mix has some pretty great side effects. First, something we all want more of - confidence. Self respect and confidence go hand in hand. I mean, sure, you can fake confidence till the cows come home but at some point your true self image will show and it's usually on your 15th vodka/soda at 3 in the morning while you cry to your friend on a street corner. (Been there, done that, lost the t-shirt.) Second, respect from men! How about that?? I can't think of anything sadder than a seemingly strong, confident woman seeking a man-child's approval. Add some self respect to the mix and, well you might not be able to open his eyes, but you sure as hell can show him you won't stand for that kind of behavior! (Do I really need to give examples? Pretty sure we've all been victims at some point in our lives.) The more women who stand up for themselves and stop jumping through hoops for men the better chance we have of them realizing they can't get away with that shit and... *Boom!* Problem solved. Unfortunately, there are a bunch of dickwads out there (just watch an episode of 16 and Pregnant for the earliest signs of dickwaddery) with no one to hold them accountable and it just makes me sick. (Seriously though I think I need to stop watching 16 and Preggers. Rage.)

OWN IT


Grade Triple F Meat

Does anyone define "owning it" better than Lady Gaga? Doubt it. I mean you're telling me it doesn't take balls to wear a dress made out of meat? Not only wear it, but ROCKET? You're really going to tell me that right now? She can wear a dress of meat, but you can't wear jeans because your butt looks big? Gimme a B-R-E-A-K, Break!

Owning It, Bitch

I love Snooki. She knows who she is and makes no apologies for it. She doesn't fit into the box society has deemed "acceptable" for a lady, so she does her thing with a middle finger to the world. At the same time she stays true to herself and the people she loves. Sure, she can be a hot mess at times - who can't? I've had my share of hot messiness, but she doesn't let men dick her around, she doesn't accept double standards and she rocks her attitude just as fiercely on the red carpet as in her grimy slippers. (Seriously though wash those things, Snooks.)

SISTERHOOD OF THE TRIPLE Fs

I think all my ladies will agree that it's hard out there for a girl, yes? So why make it harder? We're already fighting for respect from a lot of men so why are we fighting for respect from each other? Shouldn't the mere fact that we're all the same gender be enough to unite us?

Oh, and side note: can everyone, but especially ladies, please stop calling them "slutty" Halloween costumes? That would be awesome. Exposing skin does not a slut make. Thanks.

True Triple Fs are proud of each other. They take pride in the work of their brethren and respect them enough not to turn everything into a fight-to-the-death competition. Healthy competition, sure! Look at what the ladies around you are doing and let that inspire you to think, hey, if they can why not me? Healthy competition moves you forward, unhealthy keeps you stuck. Support each other and things will undoubtedly be easier on all of us!

SEXY TIMES

After a show a few years back, two audience members joined me for drinks at a bar around the corner. Two lovely ladies from New Jersey, both middle-aged and non-creative types, they were interested in the career path I'd chosen and were asking a lot of questions. We got to talking, drinking and talking some more and the subject of sex came up. I, of course, started talking about vibrators and how the one I bought wasn't doing the "trick" and was met with blank stares. Certain I'd crossed the line and - reminding myself these were not only strangers but fans who had probably just tossed their "Glesbo" hats straight out the metaphorical window - I quickly changed the subject. There's a time and a place, McMurray! To my surprise their floodgates opened and all the pent-up sexual frustrations came pouring out. "I've never masturbated" one woman said. (I tried to contain my shock reminding myself once again that these were strangers.) "I've never had an orgasm" the other said. "And," she added "I've been married for 10 years."
Whu-whu-whu-whuuuuutt?? Hold the goddamn line for a second. What the balls!? I tried to diplomatically respond, but ended up giving them an earful about how gettin' down with yourself is awesome and hot and NECESSARY. They said they knew and made excuses and I'm pretty sure I scared them, but I'm glad I had my say. Seriously, ladies, that thing between your legs is - news flash - not just for dudes! (Or ladies if that's your thang.) What I'm trying to say is a Triple F loves herself inside and out. She rubs the bean, flicks the pea, massages the chicklet all in the name of happiness, confidence and fabulousness. So take that Christine O'Donnell you sad little robot.

Honestly, from hearing some women talk it sometimes seems like a lost cause, but I know it's not. I know one of you is reading this going, "I want to be a Triple F!" and I know you'll figure out how. Because you do have to figure it out for yourself which is the unfortunate/fortunate part of all this. Looking outside yourself (a man, booze, woman-hating) to feel more confident is just temporary and so not fabulous or fierce. How about we all just start being proud that we're the third F... Females. (Or, my preferred term, "Ladies". I had to settle for Female to sate my love of alliteration.)

So ladies, let's slap on a coat of red lipstick, throw on some self respect and we'll be that much closer to having a world bursting with Triple Fs. Imagine?

Love,

Glennis

Ah Skeet Skeet

2010-11-01T12:24:00.003-04:00

Double G

Tonight! Live on stage for the very first time it's Double G tag team Gilda and Glenny in...

YAPPY HOUR!

Yappy Hour is hosted by Mina with her owner Giulia Rozzi (Stripped Stories, Mtv, VH1) and Dummy with her owner Tony Camin (Comedy Central, Marijuanaloges) and will showcase some of New York's funniest dog-owners and their dogs telling jokes, stories, and doing fancy tricks!

Hosted by Mina (with Giulia Rozzi) & Dummy (with Tony Camin)

With performances by:
Scoops (with Dan Curry)
Lucy ( with Brandy Barber)
Mocha (with Ophira Eisenberg)
Atticus (with Eliot Glazer)
Fenchurch J. Nuisance (with Sean Crespo & Carol Hartsell)
Astaire Allocco (with Sara Jo Allocco)
Paquita Borgita Borgata Chorizo Jimenez (with Kambri Crews)
Gilda Raddog McArfy (with Glennis McMurray)
...And just added Ripley (with Jenn Wehrung!)

Tonight, 8pm, $5.00
UCB THEATRE
307 West 26th Street @ 8th Avenue
Reserve your $5 ticket at http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/ or call 212.366.9176

See you there, suckas!

Love,

Double Gs

Website Revamp

2010-10-29T12:08:00.001-04:00

Because I've been stuck at home for the past day and a half (hack/cough/sigh), I decided to update my website. This might very well be the 200th time I've done so since learning to do so, but this one is my favorite of all. The backgrounds represent my two homes: Colorado and New York, and the nameplate is the one I wear every day given to me by my boo.

Enjoy and let me know if you find any typos, broken links, etc.

Love,

Glennis

Ask G: Pu-push It Real Good aka The Perfect Birthing Mix

2010-10-28T09:36:00.003-04:00

Today on "Ask G" 'Bill's Mom' writes:

"Hi there-
I am going to be having a baby in the next couple weeks or so and I was told that I should look into music to listen to during the labor process...do you have any advice on good music mixes for bringing a baby into the world? I hear you used to be a dj.
-"Bill's" soon to be mom"

Dear Mommy Bill,

Congratulations!!

I'm a baby.

I can't speak from experience here, but I understand having a baby is a pret-ty big deal. In fact I hear it can be life changing, but don't quote me on that. An expert on babies I'm not... an expert on music I totally am not either. But I do love me some hot jams and I am more than up to the task of helping you put together your baby mix! In fact, I'm honored!

I thought hard about this and I've decided that, because everyone's musical tastes differ, I'd give you some guidelines to follow when picking your mix instead of choosing songs for you. Though I'm sure along the way I'll throw in one or two suggestions which you by no means have to use.

In my opinion you should consider the following when choosing your "burthing jamz":

1. Your Annoyance Level
Preeeeetty sure the level of annoyance rises when pushing a medicine ball-sized person out your hoo-ha (childbirth is beautiful is it not?), so you want to avoid songs with catchy, but repetitive hooks which might drive you to insanity. Eiffel 65's Blue (Da Bu De) comes to mind as a song that, when played at a club might cause shawty fire burning on a dance floor, but when played in a... baby birthing room (huh) might cause murder. You might argue that murdering someone while giving birth is the true circle of life, but I'd like to point out that your arguments are stupid.

Moving on.

2. Capturing the Moment
One day your little Bill is going to look at you in his Yankee uniform just before he takes the mound for the very first time and he'll say, "Mom. Dad. There's something I've always wanted to ask you. What was the first song I ever heard? I mean... what played as I exited your lady garage?" Do you really want to turn to him and say, "Pop That Pussy by 2 Live Crew"? Can you even imagine the effect that would have on poor Bill? I mean, sure, the song is relevent to the birthing process and you and your husband will have at that point raised a fine young man, but his mighty world might be crushed by that news causing him to blow the game ruining the Yankee's chances of ever becoming the winningest team in baseball. Nice going, mom. You really screwed the pooch on that one.

3. I Get So Emotional
Childbirth is beautiful blahblahblah, but let's face facts... you've got a job to do. Getting the boy out is job number one and you don't want some sappy song about a unicorn drinking out of a kitten's paw mucking that up for you. I do a lot of crying on the toilet and let me tell you crying and pushing do not go together like ramalama kadingidy dingy dong.

4. Sessytime
Sex is what got you into this so you might be inclined to listen to a sexy song to mark the occasion. While almost every part of me thinks this is a good idea, there is this nagging voice in the back of my head telling me it crosses the line. Prince has no place in a birthing mix. I concede.

5. Classic
I know a lot of people are of the mindset that classical music cures all, but I'm of the mindset that it's a giant snoozefest. I mean, sure, there is a time and a place, but do you really want your baby coming out all snootypants thinking he's better than other people because he was born to Sonata No. 12 In E Minor The Wind in my Shorts? I don't think so.

Wait. Hold the phone. Something just occurred to me. My advice, and I truly think this might be the best advice I've ever doled, is to listen to...

wait for it...

waaaaait for it...

...

wait...

for it...

SHOW TUNES!

Mind = blown

Yes, my dear mommy to be, I believe you should listen to your favorite musicals, soundtracks and, hell let's throw comedy albums in there as well. (I mean can you even imagine how rich this revelation is going to make me? Brilliant.) What's better than a sing-a-long to keep your mind off the pain? That's what makes going to the dentist so awful - no sing-a-longs! (Sorry to my DDS friend Brittany reading this - I'm sure you've figured out a way to work around that problem.)

I'm not having a baby yet (but as I just tweeted I have some nasty indigestion, so... fingers crossed!), but here's what I'd do if I was about to push a papoose out my teepee:

On your way to the hospital: Ideally your husband would drive you, but if you live in NY you'll probably take a cab. Assuming the baby's not on its way, I'd like you to a capella "Morning Glow". Your husband need not join in, but really how can he resist? The song perfectly captures the uplifting spirit of the situation and will really set you in the mood for baby time. (Why a capella? Because NYC, home of the Great White Way, still doesn't have an all-musical radio station. And they call this America.)

Chillin' in your room: A mix of songs that are just plain fun to sing along with. Suddenly Seymour, Cabaret, Hard Knock Life, Part of Your World. Get the staff involved and soon you'll be the most popular patient on the floor! No, really. Trust me on this. Musical theatre makes you very popular.

Uncomfortable, but not in pain: When the contractions kick in, but it's not time to push, switch it up to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Just be careful when doing the Time Warp.

When the contractions intensify: Listen to your favorite comedy album. Steven Martin? Maria Bamford? George Carlin? What's your poison? Or, wait - check with your doctor to make sure it's OK to laugh at this stage. You don't want to end up hurting the baby in the name of a good time. Plenty of opportunities to do that once he's born. (Might I also recommend my boo's comedy album? Why, I might. I might just do that.)

In your final contractions: Your husband serenades you with "Maria" from West Side Story, but subs in your name. ex: "Aaaaaamanda. I just met a girl named Amanda! And suddenly I see..." the baby! Holy shit it's coming!

As Bill meets the world: You and your husband perform an exhausted, but impassioned version of "Without Love" from Hairspray.

Happiest. Baby. Ever.

Word.

Well, Bill's Mom To Be, I hope this helped. No need to thank me, really. Just name your first girl Glennis and we'll call it even.

xG

Would you like to "Ask G"? Of course you would! Send an email to answermecommag@gmail.com.

G's Broadway Adventure

2010-10-27T15:22:00.003-04:00

*SPOILER ALERT!* - This post may contain spoilers for Pee-wee on Broadway! If you want to be surprised by the show then I suggest you avoid reading this post (though I do try to keep them spoilers to a min). xG

I love Pee-Wee Herman. LOVE.

If you love me so much then why don't you marry me?

I WILL MARRY YOU. I will call off my engagement to Matt and marry not only Pee-wee, but the entire show! Then I'll let the show carry me over the threshold to our new house (the Playhouse of course) and make sweet love to me! I will have little show babies with the show and, when we die, we'll be set aflame in a boat at sea. THAT'S how much I love it!

...was the exact sentiment of the man seated at the end of our row at The Pee-Wee Herman Show on Broadway last night who also felt the need to speak-a-long with the entire production.

Where's the most annoying audience member, Globey? Right... there!

Now lissen, I really do love me some Pee-wee. See: farewell email to law firm where I was employeed for 8 (loooooong) years:

-----Original Message-----
From: Mcmurray, Glennis F.
Sent: Thursday, April 17, 2008 3:27 PM
To: NYC ALL
Subject: But What Am I?

Today is my last day in the firm.

Just like Pee-Wee Herman in his Big Adventure...

I'm off to find my bike.

PEACE

-Glennis

But, you guys, I wouldn't marry him. I mean, he's kind of a man-child and I know from experience that's just a recipe for disaster. (But speaking of recipes... we do have similar diets which is the most important foundation for any happy marriage! Fried butter, anyone?) So, yes, I love Pee-wee (LURV, in fact), but doesn't everyone? And can't pretty much everyone quote him? So it's not that impressive that you know Jambi's going to utter, "Meka leka high meka hiney ho" a few times or that Conky will give us the word of the day up top. (The word was "fun"! AAHHHH!) And when you tout your impressive (yawn) knowledge of the show throughout said show (that I paid a lot of money to see) you're kind of asking me hate you for having a good time and that makes me feel like a beast so just shut up already!

Ahem.

Let me back this train up.

Paul Reubens is my hero. I know I deem a lot of people my hero which means I've got a lot of heroes. Nothing wrong with that, Chach. I admire Paul's career and especially his chameleon-like transformations. Need I remind you of his stint as Prince Gerhart on 30 Rock?

Best death scene ever?

Excuse me... what? Paul Reubens on The Gong Show?

OK so that last one was just for fun, but he really is the greatest. And ecu me? This? Yes please!

So what I'm trying to say is I saw this show soley based on my love of Pee-wee not really knowing what the show would be. It ended up being everything I'd hoped for and more. It was just like watching an episode of Playhouse (of the CBS variety) from the 80's only live and flashier and LIVE! Seeing Paul as Pee-wee in person, in front of my face, on stage was to say the least thrilling. The audience rose to their feet when he walked on stage and I had a moment of "this is actually happening" which I didn't expect. I wasn't brought to tears (ahem man at the end of my row), but I was definitely moved. I just... I just love him so much, you guys. Paul Reubens, that is. Where as some performers shy away from a role or character that made them (*cough*JonHeder*cough*), Paul Reubens basked in it, went with it and has taken it to the ends of the earth and back. There's not a bit of me that doesn't admire and aspire to that. Not only should you be proud of creating something people respond to and want to see more of, you should respect the fact that not many people will ever do something like that. I understand wanting to diversify yourself, but why stop the train from rollin?? Are you too good for your character?! (But seriously, no Napoleon Dynamite 2? What the fudge?)

OK, stepping off my judgebox now.

Lynne Marie Stewart, who now plays Charlie's mom on "Sunny", reprised her role as Miss Yvonne and was just delightful. I honestly wish the show had just been Paul and Lynne on stage, maybe improvising, maybe just staring back at me. Lurv. Lynne had two snafoos (her petticoat slipped off and Chairry's wig got stuck on... Chairry) which she handled with all the poise and grace you'd expect a Groundlings alum would possess. Also reprising his role as Jambi (Mecka Lecka... YES WE GET IT DUDE. YOU KNOW THE SHOW.) was John Paragon. Yay John! He was always my favorite. OK I may have had a crush. My therapist would have a field day with that - "a disembodied head who grants wishes and asks nothing in return? Iiiiinteresting..." I choose to focus on the fact that he's trapped in a box allowing me to know his wherabouts at all times. You're telling me you'd turn that down, ladies?

Aaaaanybroadwaybaby... I mean, really the entire cast was great, Chairry (voiced by the adorable Lexi Fridell), Phil LaMarr made the perfect Cowboy Curtis (and his bio alerted me to the fact that there was a Patty Hearst musical called "Patty Patty Bang Bang: The Patty Hearst Musical" - hello!) and for only having one line as himself, Drew Powell was great as the dancing bear (he also voiced Mr. Window and the Flowers). The swoonie Josh Meyers killed me as the sessy Firefighter and I'm pretty sure I'm going to turn my laptop into Screeny after seeing "her" live, but where, I ask you, was Reba the Mail Lady!? Maybe she needed a break after appearing in more episodes of a show than anyone, ever. Boom!

Three things: according to Wikipedia Cyndi Lauper recorded the theme song for Pee-wee's show under the name "Ellen Shaw".

Second, they showed a Penny cartoon last night and by they I mean The King of Cartoons (played by Lance Roberts - fun fact: he played the Genie in 7,000 performances of Aladin at the Hypereon Theatre - I don't think I've ever done 7,000 of anything. What am I doing with my life!?! Ahem.) which made me realize I'd totally forgotten about Penny!

I can't find a lot about Anna Seidman, the voice of Penny, but apparently she is on Facebook and we have no mutual friends.

Third, Natasha Lyonne was a member of the Playhouse Gang in season one. I couldn't find a clip of that, but I found a clip.. of her... watching herself on the show? Weird.

I love the girl so, though it's weird, I highly approve.

Last I'll just say that my number one, big top moment of the show was Pee-wee's balloon work. You have to see it to understand. HOWLING.

Now, back to the BIGGESTPEEWEEFANSEVEROMGOMG. As I said, they talked through the whole thing, but it wasn't just the talking. I knew they were enjoying themselves which was why I kept my trap shut (something I often have trouble doing), but the fact that they looked around after each comment to see, I can only assume, who was impressed with their Pee-wee knowledge was really too much. Did you really pay all that money to see a show so people could know how much you love the show you paid a bunch of money to see? Doesn't that kind of go with the teritory of paying a lot of money to see a show opening night? Wait, at one point Pee-wee makes microwave popcorn and the guy goes "Popcorn! Hahaha! Popcorn! Hahahahahahaaaa I told you'd there be popcorn!" at top volume. Oh brudda. So they were a pain, but not a total distraction, and as the show ended we all started filing out of the theatre when I heard, "You keep your goddamn hands off me!!" Surprise, surprise it was mouthy Jones and his partner starting a fight with a 60-year-old man. Come ON. They continued to fight as they walked out of the theatre and try as I might to catch up with them I missed it all. I did catch someone coming down the stairs say, "he had his hands around his throat!" REALLY?? I guess I just assume a Broadway production brings out the best in people and then I look around to find jeans, fanny packs and wife beaters and reality sets in. I once exited a show to hear a woman scream, "Oh no you did NOT just stick your hand in my purse! She's tryin' to steal my shit!" Now DAS classy.

So, in closing I say: go see Pee-wee if you're a fan of the show, go see Pee-wee if you're not a fan, just go see Pee-wee. It's one of those experiences you really should have before you die. Wait, maybe the guy causing a ruckus in my row was from the Buried Life... they seem pretty douchie. (Really, marrying a stranger in Vegas is something you have to do before you die? Pu-leeeeez.)

Oh and if you do end up going - behave yourself!

Love,

Glennis

The Pee-wee Herman Show on Broadway plays through Jan 2. More info here!


A Great Show! (I know you are, but what am I?)

Bathroom Humor

2010-10-26T14:43:00.002-04:00

Why, yes! I do have a hilarious story about mistaken identities! I'm glad you asked.

The scene: Matt and I, at dinner, a restaurant in Williamsburg.

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. It's empty (the bathroom, not my bladder) and I choose the stall to the left. As soon as I sit down another woman walks in and, because I have terrible hayfever allergies, I start sniffing. Sure the other occupant heard me sniff, I think, "wouldn't it be funny if she thought I was doing coke in here..." (snorting coke in a bathroom, the height of hilarity). With that in mind I sniff loudly and, from outside my stall I hear...

"Danieeeeelle???"

Discuss.

Love,

Glennis

Nailed It

2010-10-25T12:50:00.004-04:00

It's been a while since I've had the old toes and fingies done. I noticed last night, as I was dressing for the Barber/Woolfolk wedding-party-ball, the desperate shape my toes were in. It's really a disgrace. Some of you are of the school of thought that this should immediately be remedied by a trip to my local salon and I whole-heartedly agree, but only about it being remedied. I have a real problem getting my nails done in a salon and there are a few reasons why. First there's the obvious deterrent - the great Paula Abdul nail fiasco of 2004 wherein she had to have a nail surgically removed due to fungus caused by unsanitary manicure utensils. Gross. I mean, it's not the end of the world, but it's pretty disgusting.

Straight up now tell me... did you sanitize that file?

Second, I am a mover. I have a hard time sitting still for long periods of time (I'm doing squats as I write this), plus I'm super impatient. Allowing a hair dresser to blow dry my hair is a big deal. (Also kind of a control freak? Just a leetle?) Because of my impatience most of my pedicures end with me shoving my hairy toes (seriously, hobbit feet) into my shoes before they're dry thus negating the pedicure and wasting my hard-earned money. Stoopit. I know I should revel in the "me" time, but it just feels like time that could be spent eating cheese. (Now a cheese mani/pedi I can get on board with!)

But the greatest deterent of all might surprise you. For you see... I, Glennis McMurray, am a licensed nail technician. Or, I was. I don't make a habit of telling people any more as the responses started to gross me out. Listen, there ain't nothin' wrong with doing nails, peeps, and I should have told that to a few of your faces. Ain't no shame in working hard for your money right, Donna Summer!? (Preeeeetty sure she wrote that song about nail techs, but don't quote me on that.) But I forgive, I just won't ever give you a free manicure and trust me - they good.

Let me start by saying that it all came to be because my mother was a hair dresser. She cut hair (and painted, she's kind of an amazing artist) and I at one point had similar aspirations. Art, though I could copy the shit out of an already drawn image, was not my thing, but I always thought hairdressing would be a great way to earn money when I moved to NY. I'd waited tables in Durango and despised it (hated the waiting, loved the free food) so I planned on avoiding that line of work at all costs. Since the only reputable hair school was too far for me to commute to and still live in Durango I decided to take classes at a nail school in Farmington, NM or, as we grew up calling it, FarmPit.

Farmington might just be the arm pit of New Mexico. There's not a lot going on there and the whole town is stuck in an 80's bubble.

The carpet matches the drapes.

There was also an air of defeat that wafted through the town. I mean, I'm sure there are ambitious, driven people that come out of Farmington and I went to school with some of the sweetest people I've ever met, but the town itself is sort of depreso. Though I will say they have a pretty sweet mall (hence all the mall bangs) and, since Durango's mall was more of a hall, we frequented the Farmington Mall for all our back-to-school and Red Lobster needs. (Mmmm cheesy buns.) So, apart from the mall I can't say I was thrilled to be attending nail school in Farmington. Not thrilled in the least as I watched my friends go off to college. In fact you could say I was depressed as balls.

Now, I know what you're saying, "Nail School?? Can't you just, like, DO THEM?" And my response would be no, dummy. You can't. You'd be surprised what you have to know! Anatomy, sanitation and fungus-prevention, how to safely work on people with diabetes (so they don't, you know, lose a TOE) and of course the ushe - manis, pedies, tips and the like. It's not rocket science, but it's no day at the beach either. I'll admit that as an 18-year-old with dreams of living in the Big Apple, I was a bit over the school before I'd even started. I'll also admit I thought I was too good. I did. I wanted to be on Broadway, not filing toenails, but followed through because it was a means to an end. But the longer I was in school the more I realized I really liked doing nails. The perfectionist side of me came out and a great day was a perfect set of tips. And then with the discovery of nail art my life kind of changed. I was obsessed. It became a challenge to see what I could paint on the smallest of nails. My classmates would bring in pictures of cartoon characters, landscapes, even famous people (pretty exclusively Elvis) and I, using the tiniest of brushes, would set to work creating my masterpiece. If only I'd had the foresight to take pictures! This was when I started to let go, make friends and every day my disdain for my situation lessened. I also began to enjoy the drive to and from school. 45-minutes in a car by myself allowed me the luxury of a musical sing-a-long which any theatre nerd will tell you is a damn fine time. And, if we're being completely honest here, and we are, my soundtrack of choice was usually RENT. I guess you could say it really lit my candle. (Gross)

But I digress...

The cast of characters at the school was varied. Two Navajo girls who, by my standards, lived a pretty posh lifestyle off their government issued checks. I was slightly jealous (of the money, not the reasons they received it), but also felt like it made them a tad passive. They didn't even plan on doing nails, but the gov't money paid for education so I guess they thought why not? They had plans to open a tanning salon so if they ended up wanting to do nails the two could go hand in tanned. (Hey oooo) I'm pretty sure they're still in Farmington driving around in their awesome vanilla-scented pink truck. That truck was so cool. Way better than my rusted Toyota Corolla hatchback that smelled of patchouli oil. The director of the nail school, a sweet, round, jubilant woman, was the one most excited by my nail art. I must have painted an Elvis a week for her. But the thing I remember most about her was her fake toenails. I'm can't be 100% sure it was because of her diabetes, but that's what I remember. Fake toenails! Now, because I'm slightly obsessed with seeing deformed feet (my Summers are spent staring at the ground), I've seen fake toenails quite a few times. At the time, though, I thought it was nuts. Now listen, this wasn't a "classy" group per se and I count myself among the group. One woman pretty exclusively talked about how she was sure we could smell her period. (sorry) But the one thing I will say is that they were the most genuine, sweet group of ladies I've met and because they were all quite a few years older than me I learned something from each of them.

Following through on my plan to do nails when I moved to NY, I interviewed at a few high end salons on the upper west side which went well - one of them offered me a job doing nails on the Leeza Gibbons show... so... that's a thing. (Still kind of regret turning that one down.) But as I pounded the pavement I was struck by the sheer number of nail salons this city housed. I slowly realized my plan had a fault and I'd need to make money some other way. Well, farts. (I ended up taking secretarial work which made me way more money even if it did kill my soul a little bit.) I will say had I not done nails I never would have met the NY family I eventually nannied for. I did the grandmother's nails when I lived in Boulder (they were on vacation) before moving to NY, and they offered me a job. Wait, it just ocurred to me how stupid that was on their part. Yeesh. AnywaycoTexas... that family ended up being a nightmare (more on them another time), but through them I met another family who ended up becoming my surrogate family and to whom I owe much of my sanity my first few years here. I'm not sure I would have made it without them and it can all be traced back to nails.

And with that, dear readers, I'm going to pamper myself with a mani and pedi, though I'll probably still stuff my troll feet into my shoes before the paint has dried.

Love,

Glennis

PS - Check out my Radar shout out and don't forget to "Ask G"!

Photo: Anya Garrett

Ask G: Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

2010-10-24T15:30:00.004-04:00

Today on "Ask G", Lauren writes:

"i know you are the queen of voice overs and i'm looking to take a piece of the pie. aka make a little cisnash. i'm gonna put together a reel with joel spence (ucb guy here), i think. he charges like $300 bones. i wanted any advice on all of it as it's a realm i've not a whole lot of knowledge."

Dear Lauren,

I'm so glad you asked! I get that question a lot and would love to share the knowledge I've gained in the VO biz over the past few years. Voice overs are not only fun, they can be a very lucrative career.

I hate to say it, but I sort of fell into voice overs. After taking Brooke & Mary's excellent On-Camera Commercial Intensive (www.brookeandmary.com) - which I highly recommend for any NYers looking to break into commercials - I was signed with an agency. Because the agency signed across the board (for on-camera & voice over), they started sending me out on voice overs right away and much to my own dismay. I say that because I had NO idea what I was doing. On-camera I got. Standing behind a mic using my voice and only my voice was a whole new beast that I was none to eager to take on. About 6-months into the process (being sent out on approx. 4-5 VO auditions a week) I booked my first spot for Jeep radio. I had one line as "happy neighbor" and it took me all of 5-minutes to record. I walked out feeling uncertain, sure I'd screwed up the spot and certain my agents would be calling me at any moment to let me go. Thankfully, though I asked my agents to stop sending me out on voice overs (imagine?), my agent Katherine told me I was good, said I had a "soothing" and "girl next door" voice and continued to send me out. Since then I've booked National Network spots for Playtex, Dawn, Prego, E*Trade and now I make a living almost exclusively through voice overs. Thank god I kept going!

The first piece of advice I'll impart to you is taking a little time before signing up for a class (which I recommend, but more on that later) so you can listen to commercials on TV and the radio and recording and listen to your own voice. Instead of fast forwarding through commercials start listening to the voices. Where does your voice fit in? You might be surprised to find out where you fit which is why it's equally as important to record your voice and listen back. Are you the reassuring mom? The ditzy teen? The sexpot? It might sound obvious, but because you're being represented solely by your voice it's important to be as clear and specific as possible. What we hear when we speak sounds very different when played back for our own ears, which we all discovered with our first answering machine, right?

After you've listened to a ton of voice overs and have an idea where you fit, find some copy (I know Lauren knows, but copy is just show biz lingo for the words on the page) either online or by transposing the commercials that speak to you (no pun intended). Then record yourself on Garage Band or the like to see how you sound. (You can also find scripts here: http://www.edgestudio.com/scripts.htm)

Some things to keep in mind:

1. Who are you talking to?
Your voice changes when speaking to a room full of people as opposed to a single person, your mom vs. your best friend, a child vs. a teenager. Imagine the audience for the spot you're working on, pick someone in your life who fits in that audience and talk to them.

2. Smile!
Your enthusiasm can come across on camera in many ways, but in voice overs you have to actually, physically smile in order to get that across. So if the spot calls for it, smile!

3. Impressions
Do you do voices or impressions of people? That's important especially when working on a character or cartoon reel. Some of my accents come from obscure impressions like my British accent from Jane Carr on Dear John. Every single voice and accent you do could be usable so work on expanding the character so you can play different emotions and you could end up making a lot of money by booking a series or movie!

4. Improvise
If you're adept at the art of improv then use it, use it, use it. Don't go off-script willy nilly, but if you can add a cute little button at the end or improvise a funny line you're probably going to book the spot. Same goes for on-camera, but with voice over it has less to do with how you look so it can really be put to good use.

5. Practice, practice, practice
Like most things the more you do it the better you'll get. Don't give up because it feels weird - it is weird. It's not normal to stand in a booth by yourself and act like a sex-crazed grape or a disgruntled sandwich. It's just not normal! So be patient with yourself and try to have fun with it. Pretty soon you'll be an old pro and the residual checks will start rolling in.

Of course, it's not necessary to do all this work before taking a class. You could find out that you're a natural, but sometimes finding your voice takes a while so why not speed up the process? And finally, classes. If you're in NY, Sound Lounge's Carrie Faverty and Tony Mennuto offer a fabulous boot camp and, lucky you, their next class starts November 13th! (Contact carrie@soundlounge.com for info.) When putting together your reel, and professionals correct me if I'm wrong, I believe you should have at least one promo ("Coming up next on HDTV!"), one or two "characters" (which don't have to be cartoony, but just the people talking about the product) and a few announcer VOs. It should be no longer than 2-minutes and make sure the sound quality is great. Spending a little money on your reel and putting it up on http://voice123.com/ or http://www.voicebank.net/ is a great option. You could be cast in a spot based on your reel without even auditioning. It's rare, but it happens!

I hope this helps, Lauren, and if anyone reading this has information on voice over classes in other parts of the country please feel free to leave them in the comments.

You can check out some of my voice over work and my reel on my website.

xG

Dirty Little Lies

2010-10-23T20:13:00.002-04:00

I'm about to admit something to you guys that I'm not proud of. I used to be a liar. A big, fat liar with my stupid pants on fire. It's not something I brag about or anything and I'm not proud of it so get off my lady junk. Gaaahd! Why are you so judgmental, internet!? Anywayyouwantit... I did it and that's that. Lying is just one of those things that starts out small with a few "tell them I'm not home" fibs and snowballs until you're sneaking out of your bedroom window in your father's house at midnight to smoke pot in "the hood" (of Durango, CO so really more like "the condo") with your best friend. Lying begets more lying and the knot in the pit of your stomach eventually becomes so intense that you, hopefully, decide to stop lying when the time comes to grow up and make important life decisions. (i.e. Adulthood)

I mentioned the other day that I attended the Bridal Expo in Times Square. The more time that passes the more I regret that decision. I mean they should have just called the place "The Liar Expo" because it was nothing but big, heaping, steamy piles of bullshit. And the worst part is I totally fell for it which really ticks me off! I mean I don't fall for anything anymore. I've had my share of run-ins with the NY scammers; the "can I ask where you get your hair done?" ladies and the "do you like free comedy?" dudes. I've learned my lessons the hard way, but I guess that's what happens when you have little guidance and move to NY at 19. I don't judge myself because I learned my lesson. Cut to present day and I'm getting duped all over again! What a wedding won't do to a sane girl's head.

The day after the event I got a call from a representative from Laser Cosmetica telling me I'd won $500 in free services. My initial reaction? Yeaaaah right. But they piqued my interest so I checked out their website and the Photo Facial was too much for me to resist. Who doesn't want to look like a photograph all the time?? Who, I ask!? No one that's who. But wait, let me back this train up. The first call I received went like this:

SALES LADY: Hiyeeee! Can I speak with Gleeennis Mc... Murree?

ME: (sigh) This is she.

SALES LADY: HIYEE! I'm calling from Laser Cosmetica! We met at the Bridal Expo...

ME: Let me just stop you there, I'm really not interested, but thank you.

*click*

I hate to be rude (no I don't), but why waste anyone's time. But then I thought about it and, as I said, checked out their website and that little seed of doubt sprouted roots and started growing. What if I had won? What if I really could look like a photograph all the time? WHO, I ASK YOU, DOESN'T WANT THAT!? And I was just the teeniest bit regretful that I'd been so rude.

Cut to: the following day when I receive another call which I was a little more pleased to receive.

ME: Hello?

SALES LADY 2: Good morning, good morning, good morning! Can I please speak with Gl...eeeenis? Mc... Murray?

ME: This is she.

SALES LADY 2: Hello! I'm calling from Laser Cosmetica! We met at the Bridal Expo on Tuesday and I have some very exciting news for you! You've won $500 in free services! Congratulaaaations!

ME: Thanks!

SALES LADY 2: So what I'd like to do is set up a time for you to come in for a FREE consultation! What does your schedule look like for the next year?

ME: Listen, I'm in the middle of something can you email me the information?

SALES LADY 2: OH sure! I'll get that right out to you.

ME: Thanks! Bye.

*click*

And in all honesty I was in the middle of something: a delicious bowl of cereal. Still half thinking it was a scam I emailed my ladies to get their thoughts and they all seemed to be of the "go for it!" train of thought so I figured - what's the harm? But when I posted my good news on Facebook I heard from a few people that they were charged by Laser Cosmetica for services they never received. Ooooh you dirty little liars! I received an email from LC, but ignored it and thanked the gods I hadn't gone for the consultation. Nothing worse than pushy sales ladies working on commission. Nothing.

Cut to: Friday day when I check my phone and find a voice mail from, who else, Laser Cosmetica saying, "Hello Glennis! I see you've recently booked a consultation with us on October 30th at 3pm..." I didn't hear the rest of the message because, in the middle of Costco, I shouted "liars!" OK I wasn't in Costco, but that sounds much more dramatic doesn't it? (I mean I went to Costco earlier that day which is another blog post in itself - oh my lawd - but at the time when I received the call I was in the car and that's just not the same.) Anywaybebaby... I immediately called the "spa" back and got their voice mail. "You've reached Laser Cosmetica. We are either on the other line or with a client." Please. I probably called some chick's apartment while she was dropping a steamer. So I left the following message, "Hello, this is Glennis McMurray. I received a call from one of your sales associates saying I'd booked a consultation with your office on October 30th at 3pm. I did not book a consultation, nor will I be booking one whether it's free or you're paying me. Do not call me again. Thank you." And then I did a little high five dance because that, my friends, is how ya do.

But the saga continues! An hour later, after purchasing some sweet Halloween decorations at the dollar store in Billyburg, I got a call from the "head office" (her bathroom) of Laser Cosmetica.

"HEAD OFFICE" DOUCHE: Hello can I talk to GLENNIS, please?

ME: This is she.

"HEAD OFFICE" FARTSUCKER: You called to cancel your consultation with...

ME: No.. I never BOOKED a consultation.

"HEAD OFFICE" POOSNIFFER: (In a very condescending voice.) You didn't call and speak with Shaneesha to book a consultation for October 30th at 3pm?

ME: No. I did not.

"HEAD OFFICE" BUTTGRABBER: Oh really?

ME: (wtf!) Yes. REALLY!

"HEAD OFFICE" SNOTLICKER: Okaaay then! Have a good day!

ME: (Matching her snottiness.) You too!!

*click*

WOW. I mean... wow. Flames of furry shooting out my face holes!!

Lying as a kid is one thing. Lying as an adult trying to do business, another. How about this, Laser Cosmetica... how about you don't trick people into booking your services and dupe them out of thousands of dollars (talk to Ms. Marcy Jarreau on that one) in order to stay afloat. I, for one, will never do business with you and I'm pretty sure anyone with half a brain who googles you after one of your "congratulations!" calls will steer clear as well.

Oh, and... CONGRATULATIONS Laser Cosmetica! You're all dirty liars!

Love,

Glennis

Dad

2010-10-22T11:43:00.001-04:00

Me and Pops

I've written and re-written this post about my dad about 20 times so far this morning and I just can't seem to get it right. What can I say about a man who I've had a wonderful, loving, tumultuous, often heartbreaking relationship? There are, of course, always deep layers to any child/parent relationship, but sometimes something happens that takes things to another level. Sometimes something hits you from out of the blue and changes everything.

About four years ago I started getting reports from my mom and my dad's nephew that my dad seemed a little "off". He was still living in my hometown of Durango, CO, and I was in NY so I rarely saw him and, let's me honest, my mom can be a little overdramatic at times. When I talked to my dad on the phone he confirmed that he felt weird, but that he thought it might have been because of the varnish he used on the wood floors in his house. My dad, among other things, was a great handiman. I agreed that it was probably the varnish because I knew telling him to go to the doctor would do nothing. When I was a child he, with bare feet, stepped on a nail while climbing off a ladder. The nail when straight through his foot and it took hours of pleading with him to get him to go to the doctor. I'm pretty sure he went only after he'd pulled the nail out himself. Now we see where I get my stubborness from, yes? Eventually my dad was unable to do math and button up his shirt and so my mom - still friends with him though they'd divorced when I was 8 - took him to a hospital in Albuquerque where they could see a specialist. I knew seeing a doctor was hard for him, but it was necessary - they confirmed that he had the signs of early-onset Alzheimer's.

About a year after the diagnosis my dad came to see me in NY and his decline was obvious. Trying in some way to comfort him, I bought him a CD player so when things got to be too much he could turn it on and listen to Willie, Paul or Ray and relax. I showed him how to use the CD player and he just couldn't understand it. That's when the reality hit me that he was bad and getting worse.

My dad now lives in a nursing home on Long Island and he's living a very happy life. The nurses love him and my sister, Kelsey, is about 20-minutes away and can visit often. He gets postcards and letters from his friends and family and I visit whenever I can. It sucks that this is where he is and that a brilliant artist and wonderful man has to spend the last years of his life in a home. It goddamn sucks.

Sunday, October 24th I will be walking with Matt, my sister and her husband Frank to raise money for Alzheimer's and Dementia research through the Alzheimer's Association. I'd love to raise more than I raised last year and that's where you come in. I know there are a lot of great causes out there and I think you should donate to any you believe in, but if you have a few extra bucks you'd like to give toward a cause close to my heart, my appreciation would be out of this world.

You can donate by visiting my walk page, or by purchasing one of Gilda's adorable items through our "Gilda Fights Alzheimer's" Cafe Press store. Either way would be more than appreciated by me and my entire family!

Thank you!

Love,

Glennis

Bridal Expo Escapade

2010-10-21T11:12:00.000-04:00

Tuesday night I took my ladies on an escapade of Bridal proportions when we attended the Bridal Expo at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. Really, it was exactly like Janet's video for Escapade and by that I mean a freakin' circus. Who would have guessed a BRIDAL expo in TIMES SQUARE would be bananaballs??

Where do I even begin? Marcy and I showed up early just to check out the scene, but upon stepping off the elevator, we were immediately beckoned over by a woman shouting what I thought was, "Bridesmaid?" There were only a handful of people there so my confusion still confuses me. I just couldn't get a grasp on the goings on. The barker once again barked at us but this time I understood she was saying, "Are you the bride?" Or... wait... something like that. I don't know guys, I was overwhelmed! I'd also like to point out that she was completely impossible to understand. Every sentence of hers trailed ofattheendandshestartedmakingupwordsfardonsworthycablirtinroots. I asked her to repeat herself so many times I almost broke my old ear horn.

I inherited it from my granny. The hearing loss, that is.

The mumbler shoved two pieces of paper in my hand and slapped a "VIB" (Very Important Bitch) sticker on my jacket lapel. I still have no idea what the papers were, but I was told I couldn't enter the event without filling them out. If there's anything I hate more than a mumbler it's giving out personal information which I continued to do through the rest of the event. I'm about to put my "spam" button to good use, Google, so get ready.

Here was my plan of action: avoid conversations and eye contact, fill out forms for free vacations, eat my weight in cake, drink my weight in champagne, repeat (the last two). I don't need to tell you guys twice that I love me some free shit, but especially in food form. Mmmm... food shit. Well guys, I've got news for you! Those boothies (the ladies and gents running the bridal booths) do not mess around. They are on you like hoarders on a garage sale! It's all smiles and more personal information and to be honest it was not my thing. Thankfully I had the perfect mix of ladies there. My girls Katina and Sara lead the way scoping out which booths were worth visiting, which booths housed food (for me to house) and which were just worth the visit for the laughs. Marcy hung back with me sensing my need for flight (or perhaps to cover me should I have an anxiety accident) and kept me sane.

The booths were pretty much what you'd expect. Lots of jellybeans, teeth whitening and the potential for free vacations. And a lot of this:

Freeeeeeee stufffff!!! Come and get some FREEEEEEE STUFF!!! BAGS AND BAGS FULL OF FREEEEEEEEEEEEEESTUUUUUUUFFF!!!

OMG what I won't do for free shit. I filled out a form for JoS. A. Bank, for a bag which contained A FLIER and TWO MINTS. And the mints were shitty! Those gross white ones you get after a meal that go stale the minute you open the package. Ug. I did, however, walk away with a pretty sweet wooden bowl from The Bowl Store and... a tooth brush? Some candles? Chapstick? I don't know, guys, I better win me a g.d. trip.

Our first aisle complete we stumbled upon one of those booths they throw you in with hundred dollar bills, crank up the air and let you go wild. Before I could say "dolla dolla bill, yaaa" Katina had her earrings off, sleeves up and fists flyin'. It was truly a sight to see. I wish you guys had been there. Oh wait! I took video!

I can't. I'm still laughing! Well, I for one, am impressed. She won hundreds of dollars... nope. Just a bag. A bag with the Fiber One logo on it. Yep, she was catching yogurt tops, not dolla dolla bills, yaaaa'll. Still, it was the effort and boy did she deliver. I don't just have any jane shmanes in my wedding party, guys. True competitors!

After laughing for two days we needed sustenance and sought out the food booths. We came upon a cupcake counter (my favorite kind of counter) and I enjoyed a red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Delish. But where, I wondered, was the booze? Mind you there was no promise of booze, but the place was filling up and I needed something to take the edge off the bags jabbing in my side and barkers screeching in my ear. And, you guys, there was none to be found. Not a drop! Oh, but there was this delicious fermented soda which I used jedi mind tricks to trick myself into thinking it was pure grain alcohol. I mean... just a little something to take the edge off? No? Christ!

We stumbled upon a photo booth built for two and squeezed all four in which resulted in this:

Yes. I took a photo booth photo of our photo booth photo. I am truly at the height of laziness for this morning's blog post. Anyway, as you can see, we visited a place with clouds, a palmed beach, somewhere with a partly cloudy sky and Las Vegas. So that was pretty cool.

The best booth at the expo, and god I wish I'd taken a picture of this, was the First Response Pregnancy test booth. Now, forgive me, but Why? Aside from the obvious - you want to crack me and my friends up. Oh wait, I know. Wedding favors! Brillz!

My MOH/sister Kelsey and my other Sparkler, Carrie, showed up just before the fashion show was set to begin. Though I'm having my dress made and letting my ladies choose literally whatever dress they want to wear as long as they feel fabulous in it, I love a good fashion show. I love a bad fashion show. I just love a fashion show. We sat for 45-minutes waiting for this shit and then when it started it was nothing but some man with a bad goatee and even worse hair cut yelling that we weren't pumped up enough and saying shit like, "I can't heaaaaar yooooou!" without irony. He was clearly there to get the party started and no one, and I mean no one, was having it. We soon came to realize he was there to tout his skills as a party animal. Is that what they're called? The guys with glow sticks and bowler hats? Well that was he and he was... kinda lame. Sorry, dude. Then, instead of a fashion show, we just got a slew of DJs touting their services! WTF, Bridal Expo! They weren't even playing music or getting the party stahted, they were just talking about their services. I'm sorry, but wasn't that what the booths were for?? Though I can't really complain, you guys, because I'm pretty sure I found our DJ. Listen to this: he offers a service where they can broadcast TEXT MESSAGES from PEOPLE who AREN'T AT YOUR WEDDING on a TV SCREEN. Right? Pretty fanc! So... yeah... that's who we're going with because who doesn't want to tell people who aren't invited to your wedding that they can text their well wishes to you on your big day. Now dats classy.

Speaking of classy, I would like to bring things to a head here with the single most fabulous discovery of the night. The double decker PARTY BUS. Now this is not the double decker tour bus I spoke of earlier. No my friends, this is that and sooo much more. We were greeted by Da Dubble Decka upon exiting the Marriott. "OOOOH MYYYY GAAAAAWSH" I screeched as it caught my eye and we all stampeeded like wild animals to climb aboard. I'm might have shoved my pregnant sister out of the way to get there first but I can't be sure. But you guys. YOU GUYS. This bus is off DA HOOK! It's so nuts it makes you say things like OFF DA HOOK! It's two levels of pure, disgusting, unadulterated sexy fun. Neon lights! TV's! Stripper poles!!

Sexy face

Listen, we all want to dance on a stripper pole on wheels and NOW WE CAN! I'm seriously considering this for a joint bachelor/ette party. Very, very seriously. It has a toilet AND a urinal, guys. Now DAS Classy.

Welcome Home!

Shit... I want that bus.

So, there you have it peeps. Our Bridal Expo Escapade drew to a close with dinner at Junior's where we shared in the joy that is Chicken on a Bun. What is that you ask? Oh, it's chicken... on a bun.

(Can you believe I couldn't find a stock photo of a chicken on a butt?)

I'm out.

Love,

Glennis

Ask G: Drama-rama!

2010-10-20T13:01:00.000-04:00

Today in "Ask G", TJ writes:

"I am a high school student in Westchester. I sing some. I had a horrible experience last year. I had a minor lead in our high school production of Mame! and forgot some of the lyrics in one of the performances. Afterwards, the director berated me in front of everyone in the show and insisted I apologize to the entire cast. He said I should have known my limitations and never auditioned if I couldn't hack it. He used the understudy for the remainder of the shows. It was very painful and humiliating and I haven't done anything with theater since. Well I do still come into the City some weekends and see recitals and some off-Broadway shows, but I can't imagine performing again. I already had stage fright but now I think I'm scar(r)ed forever."

Dear TJ,

I hope you don't mind cursing because I'm about to do a lot of it. This shit burns me like the white hot embers in Naomi Campbell's eyes. How DARE your director humiliate you in front of the entire cast. How dare that bastard, dickwad, scumsucker! UG! MotherFUCKER!

OK, I feel better.

Moving on. There is nothing at all that justifies this behavior. Nothing. But I'm going to say this first and get it out of the way - consider the source. I may be speaking out of school, but I'm pretty sure that as a rule high school drama teachers didn't set out on that path. Most of them wanted to be actors and, as awesome and rewarding a career as a h.s. teacher, drama or otherwise, can be, there might just be a little chip on some shoulders. Him (I'm imagining this is a man so my apologies if I'm wrong) saying "you should have known your limitations" is baffling to me. Forgetting a few lyrics does not dictate your limitations. I've seen people on Broadway forget their lyrics. Hell, I've forgotten my lyrics! I made up new words to "Look What Happened To Mabel" in front of an audience in a show I produced! It happens. And if he was a good director he would have told you just that. Then he would have told you that being prepared is the most important thing an actor can do. Everyone gets nerves and knowing your lyrics and lines inside, outside and upside down is really the only way to avoid feeling that sort of embarrassment that forgetting lyrics or lines brings. He also could have stepped back and realized what sort of embarrassment you had already experienced and avoided bringing you further embarrassment and humiliation by berating you in front of your cast. WHAT. A. DICK.

Now, let me just say that you can not give this douche the power to scar/scare you for life. If you love singing, and you must because why would you audition for a musical otherwise, then you must sing. No, listen to me. YOU MUST. If I've realized anything in my life it's that unhappy people want everyone around them to be unhappy, too. If singing makes you happy then you owe it to yourself to do it!

Before I left my previous job, I worked for a miserable woman in a law firm. When I told her I wanted to really take my acting career seriously she said something along the lines of, "you know, it's a very hard business. The chances of you making it are really slim. You might as well just stay here until I retire and take over my job." I get what she was saying, but it still really ticks me off. How dare she tell me not to pursue my dream because I "might not make it". The thing people don't understand is that there are many levels of "making it". I might not ever be in a Vogue spread or on the cover of US Weekly, but I make a living using my talent and I enjoy every single minute of it. Let me tell you, TJ, you can do the very same thing but you have to try!

I hate this person for robbing you of your confidence, but think of it as a momentary laps. The best revenge you can take in this case is to pursue what you love, be it singing or otherwise, with all your heart and live the happiest life you can. Your stage fright will lessen with each performance, but you have to stumble a few times before you soar. (Wow, I really do think I'm Dr. Phil don't I?)

And let me say lastly, if you give up singing/performing because of this guy I will be really pissed. I will come and hunt you down and cast you in one of my shows and make you love it again. Don't make me do that - I'm really busy.

Keep on fighting the good fight!!

xG

Ask G: Terribly Passive

2010-10-20T10:37:00.000-04:00

In today's edition of "Ask G, Anonymous writes:

"I am terribly passive. I don't know why my opinion is the slightest bit valid. Other people have no problem drawing boundaries in their life, pursuing what they want, and simply not accepting no for an answer when the situation dictates. Everyone I know seems to believe without question they deserve the finest things in life, and they pursue their goals and dreams relentlessly. They know they are gifted in some way and won't allow anyone to infringe on their talents and happiness. If they see others threatening their well-being, they use all their resources to keep themselves and their loved ones and friends protected. Must I have this sort of personality to be happy? If so, how will I ever develop it? In essence, I just can't stand conflict: there is not a person nor a thing in my life so valuable that I wouldn't acquiesce if someone trying to damage it pressed hard enough."

Dear Terribly Passive:

Let me just say right off the bat - I can completely relate to everything you're saying. I remember the first day I sat down in therapy I said - and I quote, "I just can't understand those girls who unapologetically ask for what they want." It was such an outrageous notion - asking for what you want and feeling you deserve it. And let me be clear - asking for what you want is not the same thing as demanding people buy you ponies and trips to Fiji (though it's fine to want those things - I currently want both of them). Asking for what you want is asking for what you deserve. Respect, justice, basic human decency - the same things everyone should feel entitled to.

I spent most of my life deferring to other people. I let others make my decisions and, when it pissed me off, I stood by and let the rage burn inside so as to avoid confrontation. You know what happened? I became a very sad, very angry and very sick person. I was willing to sacrifice my own health in order to make someone else happy. Pretty fucked up when you put it that way, right? It sounds like you might be doing the same thing.

Do you have to be the kind of person who goes to any length to get what they want in order to be happy? I don't think so. But I do think when you start to realize how powerful you are you will realize how to harness that power and use it to fairly and justly get what you want while feeling you deserve it. You need to learn stand up for what you believe is right just like you'd need to learn how to ride a bike. Changing the patterns, changing the way you react to things - it all takes time and practice. I know you want to be happy and I'm pretty sure you feel like you don't deserve it. Well I'm here to tell you you DO. But you have to do the work. You're not going to row that boat to shore by throwing out your paddles and wishing for wind. (Said in my best Dr. Phil voice.) You have to get down and dirty and DO THE WORK and, as I said yesterday, in my case The Work = therapy. Going to therapy doesn't have to mean you're "sick" or "broken" or any other terrible word associated with getting help. It's just an hour a week where you get to sit with an unbiased professional to get that stuff out of your brain. I heard a quote once, and I'm going to mangle it, but the jist of it was "once the lights are on, they can't be turned off." Basically, once you say something out loud enough times you'll truly be illuminated by it, learn from it and use it to move forward and grow out of that dark, confusing place.

If you have health insurance - great! You're one of the lucky ones and can find a therapist through your providor. If you're without insurance and located in NYC there is a great resource available for payments on a sliding-scale called The National Psychological Association for Psychoanalysis (NPAP). You have to do an intake interview (which they unfortunately charge for), but it's a great option and I have friends who use and speak very highly of this service. http://www.npap.org/about/index.html

I hope this helped a little, Anonymous. I know how terrible it can be to feel unworthy of happiness. You are worth something. You are worth a lot. Your opinions are valid and people want to hear them. It sounds daunting, but take it one session at a time and try to be as honest as you can. We need more strong, happy, confident women in this world! Best of luck to you, keep me updated, and remember - you're not alone!!

xG

Ask G

2010-10-19T12:52:00.001-04:00

It's always been a dream of mine, along with roller-feet (I will make that happen) to write an advice column. Not a jokey, "get a face transplant" kind of column, but a real "tell it like it is, Clair Huxtable/Julia Sugarbaker" *snap*, column. My reasons are twofold - A) I like to hear myself talk and writing is almost like talking and B) I have done the work.

Let's just call a spade a spade, shall we? THE WORK = Therapy. I've been in therapy for 6+ years and, if we're being completely honest, I'm about to go into twice-a-week sessions because that's how awesome I want to be. You hear me barkin, dawgs?? I won't bore you with my sob story, but let's just say I went from a bumbling pile of sad to... well, at the risk of sounding cheeseballs (mmm, cheeseballs), a much more secure person but still a work in progress. Hey, just like Lindsay Lohan, right?? (Damn I still need to write her an open letter for ruining my financial stability last year... more to come on that another time.) Not only have I gained insights on what it takes to be a stable, secure and sensational WO-to-the-MAN, I am a fantastic problem solver, big-picture seer and advice doler-outer.

My advice runs the gamut from dating and love, fashion, home decor and organization to gift giving, pets and kids! Listen, I'm no expert on any of that shit, but I am the perfect mix of logical and creative and, listen, why do I have to explain myself you're the one who asked for advice in the first place! Gaaawhhdd... just write me already will you?

answermecommag @ gmail . com

(All correspondence will be posted, anonymously, on this blog.)

You'll be making my day, I might make yours and I'll have one more thing to write about in this getting-less-dusty-by-the-minute blog.

Love,

Glennis

Who Are You Wearing?

2010-10-19T09:10:00.001-04:00

As I mentioned in yesterday's ELO post (which contained miiinor sprinkles of my disturbance over being called, "ma'am" in Forever 12-year-old-sales-associates-as-far-as-the-eye-can-see), I shop at Forever 21. It's not something I'm proud of and, like any vice, I'm trying to quit. True, I've purchased some pretty sweet key items for my wardrobe including blue leggings (market value: .0001/cent) which, if I'm being completely honest make me look like I've stuffed those potato sack babies you carry around in high school to keep you from getting prego, inside. Guess what else will keep you from getting prego? Blue leggings. I mean I try to rock them and certain times I do. Post-workout? Boom. Pre-bedtime? Nailed it. Camping trip? Color me obvious. Here's the thing - when I wear these blue leggings any other time, say out in PUBLIC, I get the sneaking suspicion that my friends are biting their tongues and thinking, "well, we can't win them all." Which is why, dear friends, I am vowing right now to stop buying cheap clothing that falls apart in the wash and spend money on sturdy, staunch, republican-style clothing. Wait, scratch that last part.

I've recently come across a few items of clothing that fall under that category and have kind of changed my life a little, you guys. First: jeggings. Now wait, stop, hold up, listen. I knoooow what you're thinking. How can I possibly tout something as immature as mashed clothing after the previous paragraph? I agree... Jeggings are ridiculous. Mashed clothing is ridiculous (though very convenient)... What's next: Shackets? The shirt/jacket! Hairts! Hair hats! Gloothbrush! Toothbrush gloves! (Wait, that's actually brilliant and yes I realize a toothbrush is not clothing. Gaawhddd.) I get it, guys. I felt the same way. But the more I said that magical word, "jeggings" the more it grew on me and when I said it with a regal British tongue it really sounded less child-like and more like something a fancy, but not too fancy, lady would wear. And so I purchased some from H&M which is like Forever 21's still kind of cheap cousin who still goes out to the clubs but is realizing she wants to settle down and find "the one".

You guys, look how cute I look in them!

Shh, shh, shh... of course that's me.

So, yes, I am the proud owner of a clothing mashup and you know what? They've kind of changed my life. Regular old jeans are SO two thousand and late!

Next up: Outerwear. I've been obsessing over this jacket from Esprit for, oh, as long as I can remember (a week). I walked out of the store without it the first time for two reasons. One: overly pushy sales associate who literally complimented everything, and I do mean everything, on my body. Literally everything. I'm not kidding. Everything. I had to pull her out of my butt before I left the store. (The alarm sounded.) Don't get me wrong, I love me a Glesbian, but this was just Goldie Hawn-Overboard. So, to prove my point (I'll show her) I walked out without the jacket. And might I add that because I'm a chicken in those situations I told her my fiance would come back and purchase it for me for Christmas. "No, no! He'll deeeeefinitely be back. Oh, probably today. He's such a sweetie! Always buying me coats and stuff. OK well... bye!" And I skulk out the door. Why is that always so awkward?
Second: though they were advertising 25% off all outerwear (and still are!), the jacket was over $200 and that I just can't justify. Even when the pushy sales assoshe keeps telling me the sale will probably only last a day. I think she earned her coffee because she Always Be Closin. My point is: I walked out without the jacket. Then a week went by and I came to my goddamn senses (i.e. the weather got colder) and went back in for my baby and nothing has been the same since.

I die. I die, I die, I die. The warmest jacket I've ever owned, so adorable and very figure-flattering which is important so you don't feel like a lumpy baby-potato sack all through the winter. And the best part? Spending a little more on this jacket assures me it won't fall apart, lump up, lose buttons or fade for a while. I'm kind of an adult, you guys. (I say while watching Fraggle Rock.)

Next: Two Boots
The number one clothing item I'm complimented on and asked about are my super awesome kick-ass Frye boots. Though these were purchased over a year ago I can't say enough about them. Rain, shine, snow, sleet, even ice, these boots have served me well. They take about a week to break in, but once you do they can be worn anywhere and with just about anything. Even jeggings! In fact, they're the perfect boot for jeggings! Wait, why don't we all just wear Bants? Boot-pants? We've come so far and yet... Anyway, these boots are number one in my book and Christmas is just around the corner so maybe when you walk out giving the old "it'll be a Christmas gift from my man!" schpeel you won't be fibbing out your face hole.

Well, you heard it here first, people. From now on I steer clear of that Forever Wasteland of delicates (because they're so poorly made) and blue leggings and start shopping like an adult. A very broke adult who purchases clothing once a year.

Love,

Glennis

I Prefer ELO

2010-10-18T10:43:00.002-04:00

Sing it with me, y'all!

I, too, prefer ELO, Randy Newman!

I'm sure you're all well aware of this from my previous statement, but I'll say it again: I am absolutely ELObsessed with Electric Light Orchestra. If ever there was a perfect band, IMO it's ELO. My love is so strong I once created a t-shirt in their honor, but it's more than love, it's LURV...slurpy, sloppy, uncontrollable love. Well, you guys, on Saturday night my life changed a little bit. Not in that, "a baby came out of my lady pocket!" kind of way, more like the, "I saw the Loser's Lounge tribute to ELO, ON-J and Xanadu" way. Suck it, babies! This was way better! My Xana-date for the evening was Miss Marcy Girt. We've long bonded over a shared love of everything 70's/disco so I knew we'd have fun, but that's not saying a lot since we could have fun brushing Alpacas. (And we know from experience.) Aaaanywayzles, I knew we'd have a great time. But wow, it was better than great... it was Electrifying! We got chills! They were multiplying! We turned to stone! Our joy was raining! All over the world! You have to believe... it was Magic!

The entire night, without hyperbole, was out of this world, but the highlight for me, aside from seeing my (obvious) talent-crush Joe McGinty and almost falling off my stool while dancing to "Physical", was Tricia Scotti's performance of "Telephone Line". I'm not saying I cried, but my eyes were definitely leaking some sort of liquid and I felt this overwhelming...feeling. Oh, how can I explain this? It's kind of how I felt the last time someone called me ma'am (Forever 21, last Tuesday). It was like that. LL's version of an already beautiful song was chilling, but Scotti really brought the piece home. There was something about hearing a woman sing those lyrics that struck a chord with me. Uh, oh... don't tell my therapist! (See... I avoid real feelings by making jokes.) I'm awaiting the addition to their CD section with bated breath. There's also this little part of me that loves when backup singers, as Scotti is for Loser's Lounge, take center stage. I'm not sure where it stems from, but I love it, guys. Oh wait, I know - Adventures In Baby Sitting! Right guys? (No? Nothing like that? Shhhhh shh shh, let me have this. I love that movie ALMOST as much as I love ELO.)

Marcy and I tried our darndest to get a table though we didn't have a reservation, but none were open. The place was packed to the gills, but we snagged a few seats by the front entrance and really that was better than a table. First because I would have eaten all of Joe's Pub, Second because we were inconspicuously able to dance to the adorable Jack Skuller & Sophie (Just Sophie)'s rendition of "You're the One That I Want". 14-year-old Jack and she's-a-lady-so-we-won't-ask-but-I'm-guessing-the-same Sophie could not have been more adorable. Don't believe me? Check Jack:

And Sophie:

(Um... Sophie? You are amazeballs.)

ADORABLE. Listen, I'm sure that's the last thing they'd want to hear at that age. I get it. But, some day, some day they'll thank me. And that day will be when they're trying on clothes at Forever 21 and a 12-year-old sales associate calls them ma'am. Then they'll thank me. Ahem. Um... Marcy and I also pretty much made up an entire seated dance to "Do Ya", performed by Mike Fornatale. The night might have been lacking in one area and that was spontaneous audience choreography. Ah well maybe next time, folks.

For my fellow ELObsessies, I took a few videos. For Nick Stevens, Sean Altman singing Showdown, as this is our shared ELO-fave:

And for Brandy Barber because, as I sat there enjoying myself like a selfish little guppy I realized I was about to witness what was probably her musical wet dream and hadn't even bothered to invite her (some friend I am!), Seth Berkowitz & Michal The Girl singing Suddenly from Xanadu:

The next Loser's Lounge, I'm told, will play in December - a tribute to the Rat Pack. Let's all go, shall we? We shall.

Love,

Glennis

Get A, How You Say, Clue

2010-10-14T16:11:00.001-04:00

The evening started off innocently enough - a collaboration meeting between me and director at the Manhattan Inn with a smooth transition into piano-oke, McGinty-style, at the strike of 10.

We arrived promptly at 8:30, took our seats - wine in hand - at an empty table and set about talking all things "The Untitled Glennis McMurray Project". (OK, it has a name, but it's far too fabulous to share just yet should all the Glesbians spontaneously combust in a fit of frenetic anticipation.) All shop talk dropped, however, when the sweetest of all papers were dropped into our laps: the karaoke song lists. Had I been holding a baby she might also have been dropped. I said might. I love karaoke, but my passion for the empty orchestra has waned of late. It's too much trouble dealing with divas, screamers and drama just to share my sweet rendition of "Get Low" by Lil' John & The Yin Yang Twins. (Note: it's my jam. Do not steal.) But my love has again been renewed by the discovery of piano-oke. Something I once attempted with my own fingers for my dear friend Girty's birthday until realizing my pinaner playing has the smooth rhythmic tempo of a fish slowly dying on a rock in the blazing sun. Read: No skills. So read: I was excited.

I believe the joyous evening was kicked off with director-Kate's sultry rendition of "Natural Woman" which set the tempo and the bar. It was high and we were planning on hightening it with each song. A little healthy competition if you will. And you will. I was next and I attempted a new jem: "Suspicious Minds" by Elvis. No doubt my favorite Elvis song I had my doubts as to how it would play in this room having never sung it before. It started off well enough, but in the original key it started to fall a little flat. That was when my genius ego kicked in, kicked it up an octave and proceeded to kick every last patron in the proverbial nuts. Someone call the FD cuz this bitch was on fiya.

After my song I excused myself for a visit to the old water closet and, after doin' my biz, zippin' my shizz, washin' the filth and checkin' the smacker, I walked out with a spring in my step for I was ready for more drink and song. I was abruptly stopped, upon exiting the bathroom, by a ponytail-sporting, sunglasses-on-head wearing, European Jagwad. I didn't know he was a Jagwad at the time, it was only following this conversation that I put twos and twos togethsies.

JAGWAD: Excuse me. What is your name?

ME: (Only slightly put off that an advance is being made outside the ladies bathroom where he has been laying in wait.) Glennis.

Notice my slight hesitation did not stopping me from giving my real name. I was banking on the fact that this advance was only due to my killer set of pipes and that the next words out of his mouth would be "I own a record label..."

JAGDONG: Ahh. Hmm... I feel as if I have, how you say, met you before? What is your name?

He moves closer, I back away.

ME: I told you my name. I don't know if we've met. You don't look familiar.

JAGLOAF: No? It's just your... how you say... (references my ENTIRE BODY) is so familiar to me. I'm sorry, but I saw you up there and I just, how you say, thought I knew you. I had to say hello.

OK, so he didn't really say, "how you say" but he might as well have.

ME: (Only slightly flattered.) Well, thank you. It was nice meeting you.

Exit - stairs.

DINKOFF: Wait, I am so sorry. Are you, how you say, a, how you say, actress?

ME: (Annoyance growing.) Yep. I am. Well, it was nice meeting you.

POOPDRAWERS: Ahhhh yes, I knew it. You are so you have been on the Broadway?

He did say THE Broadway.

ME: No. Well, nice to meet you. I have to get back to my table now.

Exit - stairs.

ASSBALLS: You would have a drink with me?

ME: (Jesus!) No, I'm sorry. I have a fiance.

CREEPDOUCHE: Ahh. I am so sorry. How you say?

ME: What?

DICKBAG: Is your fiance... is he... here?

ME: No. He's not HERE. But he is (pointing to my chest) here.

WANKLOG: I'm sorry?

ME: In my heart. (Boom! High five, McMurray!)

CRAPSOCK: Ahh... I see you say. How? But... he is not... HERE? At the bar?

ME: (I'm pretty sure I visibly recoiled.) OK, WELL NICE TO MEET YOU.

EXIT - STAIRS, QUICKLY. BACK TO TABLE. SIT. Ease disgust by picking new karaoke song.

I recounted the events to Kate and we were both grossed and creeped out. But only slightly. There was karaoke to be sung, you guys! And for my next number? "I've Never Been To Me". Hey, lady? You, lady?

As the night progressed so did our drinking and as I returned to my seat from a not-so-great attempt at "One Night In Bangkok" (hey, they can't all be winners) I saw that the Monstertool was sitting at the table next to ours. Thankfully he didn't make things any more uncomfortable. He just relentlessly stared at my face. How flattering, right ladies? Dude... back it up. I decided it was time for another visit to the ladies room and after my biz, as I exited the stall, Kate walked in saying, "I think he's waiting outside the door. Wait for me and we'll walk up together."

Gimme an S! Gimme a T! Gimme an A! Gimme an L! Gimme a K! Gimme an E! Gimme an R! What does that spell??! No, seriously, Jagoff, tell me what that spells, apply it to yourself and hit the bricks. Thankfully, when we walked out he was nowhere to be found.

Now here's the thing about McGinty-style karaoke. It's awesome. It's so awesome and so great you never, ever want to leave. And the back room at the Manhattan Inn that houses said karaoke is one of those rooms that I dream of having in my future mansion. Exposed brick, tables encircling a white baby grand center stage, strange, moss-like chandelier overhead and, of course, Joe McGinty on keys. I got, how you say, a little caught up. After a third friend joined us and we were on our 3rd bottle of prosecco, the room started to get the spinnzies and I was along for the ride. I excused myself again to splash some cold water on my face. I had a pretty clear head, but felt ill, y'all, and was kickin' myself in the ayz. I carefully walked down the stairs of yee old Manhattan Inn, opened the bathroom door and, when both stalls were taken, slumped in the seat outside the door. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted, who else, F*ckfaceJones again. A stall emptied and I rushed into the bathroom avoiding him even seeing me, or so I thought. I splashed cold water on my face, got my wits about me and went back outside. And there he stood.

JAGOFF: Excuse me?

ME: DUDE. (I screamed.) LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!

Exit - stairs. Two at a time.

I decided it was time to leave and as Kate paid the bill, I joined third-companion, Marcy outside where she told me she'd spoken to Jagoff's friends to find out if, you know, he was just a drunk douche or if he was, how you say, a Total Creepball? Apparently their conversation went:

MARCY: Is your friend... drunk? Or is he, you know, trouble?

JAGOFF'S FRIEND: Do you have a boyfriend?

Sooo... there you go. A creep is a creep is a creep.

As we started walking home together we wondered what we'd do if Jagoff et al followed us. I said that, without hesitation, I'd turn to him/them and, using my best Clair Huxtable impersonation, would say, "If you don't exit my site line immediately I will call the cops and have you arrested for harassment" and if it came down to it, I KNOW how to take care of myself. Thumbs in eyes, knees in groins, man on ground.

Here's the thing, I don't want to be a jerk and ignore any man who tries to talk to me. I do think it's hard out there for a guy as well. I have sympathy for the man just trying to make a move and getting rejected before he even begins. I do believe there are nice guys out there. I really do. And, I mean, listen - if they want to compliment my pipes who am I to stop them? I just couldn't help but wonder if I'd been too friendly when he first approached. I mean the waiting room outside the bathroom was a creepy place to approach me, true, but I figured he was waiting to use the facilities, not stalking his future skin-blanket. I feel like I handled the situation well, but something about that night bothered me more than just the creepy, unwanted advances. I felt really great that night. I mean, I felt really great. I've had issues in the past with hiding, in one way or another, because of unwanted advances from men. In fact that was part of the reason my pal Marcy and I started Dance Dance Party Party. Sometimes, sadly, men just don't get it. My smiling at you does not mean I want your man meat grinding on my lady rump! And after the incident at Manhattan Inn I started to feel like going back into my "hide yoself" shell, but then I stopped and stepped and backed that train up. *beep* *beep* *beep* Why should I stop being fabulous because YOU can't take a hint? Answer: I shouldn't. No woman should. We should all be able to flaunt it, work it, walk it and sass it without a man stalking our shit.

Today I saw this in Jezebel. Well, fuck.

Be great, be fab, be the best you you can be and just know there are going to be a few stinkers out there. Unfortunate, but true.

Love,

Glennis

Zip It!

2010-07-26T09:11:00.002-04:00

You guys I've come to the realization that I need to learn to keep my fat mouth shut. Especially when liquored up on 12 gallons of fine, top shelf Magic Hat #9. I've got diarrhea of the mouth anyway, but put a little sweet nectar of the gods in this girl and I've also got diarrhea of the butt which makes me feel like the world owes me something which makes me angry and I go off on a tirade about how a certain comedian is a hack... while he's performing on stage. Granted, I think only the 4 people who know me and were standing in my direct vicinity heard me, but it doesn't make my behavior any lest ghastly.

Will I ever be an adult?

Stay tuned, internet. The transformation might take place before your very eyes.

But most likely I'll just continue to drink my meals and make a fool of myself.

IN OTHER NEWS...

Our landlord who is, if you haven't been following my Facebook rants a total tool/slumlord/dickbag, took the cowardly way out of the sitch we're in right here and told us we need to get out so he can renovate our apartment. I can only imagine his idea of renovation is a fresh role of duct tape, the bastard. Once again, I opened my big mouth about our shitty living situation (screamed at him about once again failing to follow through on his promise to exterminate the building and then reported him to 311) and got us booted out on our booties.

Glenny needs to learn to zip it!!

OR does the world need to learn to get their shit together. I think a little of both.

And that's what's happening on this. Oh and I'm getting married so at least I found someone who loves this big fat mouth.

Love,

Glennis

Tonight!

2010-04-28T07:59:00.003-04:00

Come check me out in Dream Role, my baby that I produce with Katina Corrao & Sara Jo Allocco at the 92Y Tribeca, tonight, 9pm and you can see me in a skimpy little number throwing condoms at the audience. AND my performance is a social commentary so there's that for you high-browers.

We've also got some amazing people singing some amazing songs. People like:

Sara Jo Allocco
Bob Barth
Katina Corrao (ft. a SLEW of nuns)
Tim Dunn (ft. Brandon Scott Jones)
Marcy Girt (ft. Jay Bois, Stephen Ruddy & Jason Falchook)
Natasha Price
&
Kate Tellers

It's sure to be a fantastic show and we've got a very special, hilarious opening number featuring my boo, Matt McCarthy, Billy Wood, Jay Bois, Dan Curry & Anthony DeVito.

See you there!

DREAM ROLE
Everybody Plays The Fool
92Y Tribeca
200 Hudson Street @ Canal
$10
Cheap drink specials and a full bar available.
www.dreamrole.net

Love,

Glennis

What are you looking at?

2010-04-27T09:46:00.003-04:00

The title of this blog should actually read "At what are you looking?" but that sounds pretentious and if we know anything about Glennis it's that she's not pretentious and she doesn't shy away from talking about herself in the third person.

But the real reason I'm writing is to tell you of my undying love for a few shows on the old telly right now. Please watch these shows, dear readers, all 8 of you. (Literally, I have 8 followers... now are you proud mama!?)

NURSE JACKIE
Nothing makes me happier than this show. I know it's received accolades from people that matter, but I know you're all just holding out to see what I have to say about it before watching. Well what I've got to say is this: watchy! Edie Falco is brillzieballs, but really the entire cast is fabtastic. Merritt Wever makes my toes curl in pure delight whenever she's on screen. What a fantastic character she embodies - it's like nothing else on TV today. Hearts hearts and farts (the ultimate love = farts). God damn, girl. The whole cast is, as I said, amazing. Well worth your time. WATCH IT!

Now, listen guys, I'm writing this in a hurry because I've got to jam into the city for a few audishies (radio voice overs - jealous? Wait you actually might be... and if you're looking to get into voice overs I recommend it. Email me!) so my synopsis and love for these shows might be a bit stinted, but that doesn't mean the love ain't there. I'm trying to write every day so you'll take what I give you and like it! WHIP!

U.S. of Tara
BRILLIANT writing, BRILLIANT performances... I mean do I even need to tell you how great Toni Collette is? My ultimate like the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf... she's that. And, guys, I get it. The show seems like the premise for a bad one-person show. I hear that. But sometimes you go to these shows that are like "a story about how I moved to NY from Colorado and MADE IT!" and it's actually really fucking good (look for my show about how I moved to NY from Colorado and made it! later this year...) and this is like THAT. I can't tell you how tittilating it is to see a strong, beautiful, confident woman on screen KILLING it in the acting department. Toni is... there are no words. I kind of want to do her in the talent. Hearts! And, please, Brie Larson as Tara's daughter Kate. Fabulousballs to the MAX! Now she's embodying this amazing character creation named Princess Valhalla Hawkind who is a strong, both mentally and physically, super-woman of sorts who has no vagina so she doesn't need a man. FINALLY! I mean... I love sex, but that just rocks my socks. God, people, please watch this show.

And last, but not least...

BREAKING BAD
I know I missed this train, but damn I can't say enough about this show. RIVETING. I just want to put that out there in case you're one of the dummies with cable who aren't watching this show.

And that's it for today. I gotta jam, you guys!

Kisses where you pee,

Glennis

I Want 7 on MY Side!

2010-04-15T17:02:00.001-04:00

Gosh darn it you guys I'm really ticked off. The United States Postal Service has done it again, those scamps! Here's what's what:

Before I left for Los Angeles for a month I went to the good old usps.com and put my mail on hold thinking that would do the trick and my mail would be put on hold. And it was! End of story, good bye!

Wait! That's how I WISHED it had happened. What actually happened was that I returned to Brooklyn on March 31, went to our local post office on April 1st and they said that woopsies, we don't have your mail!

"So who does?" we asked.

"Well you gotta call this number tomorrow morning before 10am. NOW LISTEN. They get in at 7:30am and take their first break at 8am and at 10am they are out the door for the day and nobody knows where they are or can get a hold of them."

So let me get this straight. Get in at 7:30. Check. First break a half-hour later. Check. Unreachable after 10:30am. CHECK. Yeah that sounds about right, USPS.

So we're walking about to our apartment, my boo and I, and lo! It's our trusty mail man delivering mail!! We'll just go talk to him in person and clear this whole mess up. Maybe he'll even have our month's worth of mail in his satchel!

"Excuse me, sir" I said. "We're looking for our mail and we were told to call our mailman tomorrow, but here you are! So can you help us?"

"What's your address?"

I tell him our address.

"Yeah you don't have a mailman. Your address is an overtime route. Nothin' I can do. Have a nice day, I gotta go deliver mail to every other address in Brooklyn except yours!"

What the WHAAAAAT? We don't have a mailman because WHY? I knew I'd see some punk 17-year-old kid delivering our mail (no uniform... just some kid with a mail cart!) before. This is BULLSHIT. Excuse the language... BULLPOOP.

So I file an official complaint with the USPS and, after about a week, someone leaves me a voicemail saying I should call a 718 # (our local office) and ask to speak to Mr. Lopez.

Oh! Mr. Lopez! My life for a moment of your time!! I've called. And called. And called back. And left messages. And have spoken to people on the phone who tell me I gotta speak to him and would I like to leave a message? No because you see I've left them and I want to SPEAK TO HIM NOW.

And nothing.

My boo has filed a complaint with customer service or the Postmaster General, but I have no faith that will do anything.

On to my reason for this note. I want to find out where the heck our goshdarn mail is and I'd like 7 ON MY SIDE to do it with me! So, does anyone know someone at Channel 7 News who can help?

Lots of love and endless thanks.

Yours,

A slightly miffed Glennis McMurray

Pinky Swears

2010-04-10T14:11:00.004-04:00

You know how they say pain is beauty? These shoes must be the most beautiful in the land, lasses and gents because mother of CHRIST are they painful.

I don't cut, I wear DVF

I used to exclusively wear heels, because I'm a fancy lady, and my feet have been toe up (puns!) because of it. It could also have something to do with the fact the heels in my early years in NY were all from Payless (as I mentioned in my blister post), but the old feet aren't what they used to be. You could say that my pinkies were swearing with every step. Eh? Pinky swears? Oh shush.

And now I'm going to stop talking about feet because as much as I'm obsessed with looking at people in sandals for an extra toe or two (I've seen it once), foot fetishists creep me out a little. OK a lot. There's nothing wrong with fetishising feet, but why do they always have to be so creepy about it? Anyway...

Now you might ask: "If they hurt so much then why wear those shoes, McMurray?" Because, you see, Friday night I had a very special, super-secret date with my Boo and I wanted to look fierce instead of "creepy living doll" which is my usual go-to. My current collection of shoes consists of boots, pink heels (used for my stint as Jem) and very uncomfortable, cheap heels, none of which matched the dress I planned on wearing. So, on the suggestion of my pal Claire, a shoe aficionado, I searched Loehman's for the perfect pair of heels. Aaaaand I'm talking about feet again. What I really wanted to talk about was what went on during our super-secret date.

My Boo took me to see a preview of the new musical "Promises, Promises" starring my ab fave Kristin Chenoweth. No one does 'feisty peach' like that girl and I love everything about her. She reminds me of Dolly and we all know how I love Dolly so more of "that"... Yes please! I was SUPESPSYCHED about the show and, well, it didn't disappoint because how can you be disappointed when KC is 10 ft from your face singing Burt Bacharach songs? You can't. It's literally impossible.

The performances were great, natch. This is Broadway not some community theatre production of Peter Pan, folks. And, just like with every other Broadway show I've ever seen, I was in tears within the first 5 minutes. Just being in that huge theatre when the lights go down and everything runs to sheer perfection... it's just too dreamy. And did I mention we were 2nd row, center? I'm pretty sure I left with a few pieces of KC's spiddle on me. Swoon!

That being said...

Promises, Promises is a remake of the 1968 musical which was based on the 1960 film The Apartment starring Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine (another fave) and I get that, being set in the 60's, there are certain standards (or lack thereof) set, but the whole "women as objects of desire" thing is a little played out in this girl's book. I mean honestly it's 2010... why are we looking back? But I'm not going to change the world by writing on yee olde blog and you all get what I mean so let's just call that the end of my feminist rant.

Overall I'd say the standout performance belonged to Katie Finneran as the salty broad who seduces Chuck Baxter in a bar at Christmastime. Katie won the Tony for Noises Off and she deserves another win for this role. She stole the damn show. And though the character has one scene and one song, it won Marian Mercer a Tony back in 1969 so it could happen again. And should! (Did I mention she should win a Tony?)

After the show... or should I say after the curtain call where Sean Hayes and Kristin looked RIGHT AT ME AND MY BOO OMGOMG, we went to Utsav ("Utsav!? That's Vastu spelled backward!") for some delicious Indian with a side of snobbery. We showed up at 11pm, which was the time of our reservation, and they gave us SUCH attitude about the kitchen closing in like literally NOW so get your order in, like, literally NOW even though our reservation was for, like, 11pm, DICKS. Could have made a rezzie for 11 or 11:15 or 11:30 or 11:45... DOUBLE-U TEE EFF. But we put our order in, like, then and enjoyed delicious garlic naan and tikka and oh god it was good. I also had a Lycheetini which tasted more like a virgin Lycheetini, but also didn't compare to my extra dirty Goose before the show at Gallagher's Steak House - oh god so good.

All in all it was a fabulous night only slightly dampened by the fact that my dogs were barking and pinky's swearing. But still... worth every single step. PAIN IS BEAUTY, RIGHT GAGA??

Hope you all had a wonderful Friday night as well.

Love,

Glennis

Decisions

2010-03-19T22:54:00.002-04:00

Guess what decisions I'll never make?

1. To do cocaine cuz guess how I know I'm NOT gonna die.
and
2. To make my child a star.

I am staying in Oakwood Apartments in LA and the cup runeth over with youth being wasted away. I don't normally go so black and white on things, but putting your child in the biz is, at least in my book, majorly shittastic. I just want to scream at these mothers, "are you nuts? Have you not seen ANY show on E! News? Have you not seen 'Life After Tomorrow' about the crazyballs Annie girls? Did you not hear of the death of one Mr. Corey Haim which happened TWO FEET AWAY FROM YOU?"

I've, so far, seen kids with 6-packs (and I'm not talking Situation-style abs), a kid by the pool in broad daylight drinking a 40 and to top it all off they're running around unsupervised in bathing suits!

Oh my god, I'm old.

I feel like stage moms think, "well, I fucked my life up... let's see if my kid can do it better" and that's just wrong. But I feel worse for the kids who are here with their showbiz siblings. The kids who have no desire whatsoever to book a national or guest on L&O. The Louise to their Baby June. Anyone?

I mean, who knows. Maybe I'm wrong and they'll all be come well-adjusted adults with billion dollar cars which they'll use to run me and my walker over, but I doubt it. All I know for certain is that I'll never, ever ever, EVER EVER EVER put my kids into show biz no matter how adorably they tap dance while juggling kittens. And let's face it, that's pretty fucking adorable.

Stay classy friends,

Glennis

Knee Deep in LA

2010-03-10T13:37:00.003-05:00

Y'all this week has been bananaballs!!

First of all I have to say we had a crazytown good time at Dream Role last night. Sold out the UCBT LA at 11pm on a Tuesday! We'll be back to do the show again and if you'd like to be a part of it here are the submission guidelineballs. Sold out! WHAT THE DINK!?

But srsly y'allz when I say I am knee deep in LA I MEAN IT.

-Lindsay Lohan is suing
-Corey Haim died (RIP)
-Ben Stiller shared my airspace

LA has vomited all over me. (God, Heather bulemia is soooo '87)

First of all, more on Lindsay soon.

Re: Ben Stiller, well his sister was in the show - the FABULOUS Amy Stiller performed as Jane Fonda in Klute (nailed it!) - but the important part is he is famous. And was there. (See how much I've already changed, LA?)

And it really is so sad about Corey Haim, guys. Another soul chewed up by the Hollywood monster. We drove into the apartment complex last night and saw an ambulance and firetruck outside one of the buildings. Who would have guessed that's what was happening. So sad! RIP.

I'm staying in bed today.

xo

Glennis

Subterranean Homesick Blues

2010-03-04T14:24:00.002-05:00

Hey guys. It's me again.

Coming to you live and direct from sunny Cali...

Oh who am I kidding? I hate it out here right now and I can't for the life of me say why. I woke up this morning, watched some cartoons (Super Hero Squad), some Stooges and then it just hit me. The Subterranean Homesick Blues. Take it away, Dylan.

OK, so maybe I'm not really mixing up drugs in the basement or dealing with anything that song represents, but I like the song and I like the title and I find it comforting to listen to. Definitely reminds me of New York and I've been listening to it on repeat all morning.

I miss you, New York! I promise I'll never, ever leave you again for more than 2 weeks. I'm in LA for a month and that fact makes me want to vom a little.

THAT BEING SAID...

I will make the most of my time here, BUBS! I vow to make every moment count! Like right now I'm going to really put my all into finishing my Ultimate Supreme Blended Coffee Damnation from Coffee Bean. See? I'm already feeling better.

Someone please tell New York I love her and touch her lady parts for me. I'll be home soon.

Love,

Glennis

Profile of a Dick

2010-03-03T11:29:00.002-05:00

Hey guys, it's me.

I was just chatting with my friend Carlos* who was asking my advice on approaching a laaaaaaady and it sparked a memory in me.

*Names have been changed to protect the googled.

First of all I enjoy that my guy friends approach me for advice. I had this super-jellin boyfriend before who FORBADE ME FROM HAVING GUY FRIENDS!! and I gave up some pretty awesome friendships. Most of which I've reforged, but HEY that's not cool. Don't do that OK, ladies?

Oh and all my guy friends call my girl friends "Hot _____". I guess I have a lot of hot girlfriends. And no, that doesn't make me jealous because I know they're calling me "SUPER HOT GLENNIS" behind my back.

Right guys?

Guys?

BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT.

The point is... what was the point. Oh right. Memory!

So I told Carlos that he should ask her out for a drink and he jokingly said, "or a BJ"... and that sparked the memory. I KNOW. Gross. But bear with me.

I was in high school and an acquaintance of mine, a guy I hung out with here and there, but never on our own, went through a very public breakup. You know those high school breakups. THE END OF THE WORLD. So I'm home one day and I get a call from this guy. He says he's really upset and could use a woman's ear. HE CALLED ME A WOMAN, YOU GUYS. OK he might not have, but it's my memory.

The boy, and I do stress BOY, asked if he could pick me up and drive around; he just needed to talk. Why sure, I said. And guys, I was honored. I really was. Out of all the girls in the school he sought my advice. (Jesus this story is kind of depressing me already...) So the boy picks me up and we head up toward the ski resort a few miles out of town to an area where the high school kids would hold a lot of parties. And we chatted and he did ask my advice and I helped as best I could. I was helping, you guys! I love to help.

So eventually, after driving for what was probably 30-minutes, he stops the truck in a wooded area and says he needs to take a leak. I sit in the car as he goes out and relieves himself through what I can only imagine is a very small wiener and then he walks back to the truck he says to me, "I hear you give really good blow jobs."

GA-GA-GAAAAaaaa

WHAAAAAAAAAAAT

Shocked.

SHOCKED.

"I'm sorry, what?" I reply.

"The word around school is that you give really good head."

OK... FIRST OF ALL even if that WERE true (and it wasn't*) that's your ingenious plan to get one from me? What a last place DICK. A real BONEHEAD! A first class DOUCHE! I hope that guy got kicked in the nuts a lot later in life.

*To explain the "good head" rumors we'd need to go into a detailed story about 3 bitches who made a portion of my high school experience HELL because they thought they saw me at a party with one of their boyfriends. They did not. I hope they got kicked in the vag a lot.

And that, my friends, is a profile of a dick. I wish I could impart some warning signs upon you, but as you see there were none.

Seriously though, I have no idea why I just wrote that. Maybe that dick will find it and be ashamed. He'll have to because I have NO idea what his name is now. HAHA FUCK YOUR FACE I FORGOT YOU!

Have a great day and, please, don't be dicks.

xo

Glennis

Awesometown

2010-01-21T17:00:00.003-05:00

You know what's awesome? The show Taboo on NGC. You know what's not awesome? Watching the Taboo episode about lepers while you eat your breakfast foods. Had to save that one for later, folks. WOW, that was graphic.

That's all for today. I have to choreograph and dance routine to "9 to 5" for Dream Role on January 27th (9pm, 92Y Tribeca, Tickets here).

Oh! Would you like to see me do some stand up? Great! Come to Beauty Bar this Sunday night where I'll be on Jesse Popp and Vince Averill's show at 9pm. Talk about a good time... I love those boys and I love their show. See you there! (Oh yeah and it's free AND you can get a manicure IN THE BAR after. I'm writing that for all you new 21 year olds out there who read my blog and have not yet experienced this greatness.)

Love,

Glennis

Poor Blarg!

2010-01-19T16:59:00.004-05:00

This poor, poor blarg has been all but abandoned! I hardly think one tiny post about how awesome Toni Collette and her awesome dress are counts as blarging. I am ashamed. Truly ashamed. I've probably lost all my readership and, well, that's what counts right? That's what mommy told me growing up... eat your beets, don't touch wieners and keep a consistent blog. Jesus! I haven't heeded any of her advice at all!! That's OK though because wieners are awesome and beets make your poop red. And blogging? What about blogging?

A few of those beets look like wieners. Killing two birds!

Well, kids, blogging was super-fun when I had an office job and I sat there in a foggy haze of sadness and desperation. I looked forward to it amidst my humdrum day full of binders and toner. But, honestly, I look back on those blog posts and they're pretty damn funny. So it was all worthwhile. I guess.

My point is I want to start blogging again and so I'm going to. Do I have better things to do with my time? Sure. I mean right now I need to write 10-minutes worth of material on "resolutions" for my show tonight (Supercream Supreme at Legion Bar) and write all our guests their own theme song.

GUESS WHICH GIRL LIKES TO PUT TOO MUCH ON HER PLATE!!? This girl! (Literally and figuratively. Pass the taters.)

And so, dear reader, if you're out there. This is a promise to you and myself that I will indeed start blogging more. And eating more beets. And touching more wieners. Why not make 2010 GREAT?

Love you. Really I do.

Glennis

Love, Love, Love

2010-01-18T10:59:00.002-05:00

Love Toni Collette, Love her dress, Love it all.

Love,

Me

Glinterview

2010-01-04T10:16:00.002-05:00

The wonderful Jacki Schklar runs FunnyNotSlutty.com, which has just been revamped, and guess who their first interview of the year was? Little old me! I'm honored to help represent positive females in comedy. And fart jokes. Check out my interview by the equally lovely Gabriella Giarrano. (Photo by Elizabeth Griffin)

Happy New Year!!

Love,

Glennis

Check the Mic

2009-12-12T10:08:00.001-05:00

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.

SO FUCKING OVER IT.

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.

xo

Glennis

Basic Rider

2009-10-19T11:01:00.003-04:00

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.

Love,

Glennis

From The Vault of Glennis

2009-10-13T13:06:00.005-04:00

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?

OH MY GOD SO WRONG.

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

HAAAAAAAAAAAOWCH WHAT!!!?

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.

Yours,

Glennis

People Say The Darndest Things

2009-10-13T09:28:00.003-04:00

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?

Love,

G-money

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

2009-09-25T15:57:00.002-04:00

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.

HIGH LARIOUS

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.

xoxo

Glennis

BananaDream

2009-09-24T11:02:00.003-04:00

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.

BANANADREAM!!

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
$5.00
Reservations: http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/178

Love,

Glennis

Front Page Fun

2009-09-10T12:55:00.003-04:00

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!

http://www.crunchgymshorts.com/?ref=mf#/featured

Happy Fall!

Glennis

Two Things

2009-08-13T10:16:00.003-04:00

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!

xoxo

Glennis

*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!

A Few Recommendations

2009-08-07T09:37:00.003-04:00

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

http://www.yelp.com/biz/hair-by-andrea-palumbos-brooklyn

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.

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/5d588621cd/adira-amram-fingerblast
http://www.adiraamram.com/

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

http://www.glennismcmurray.com

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

Glennis

Dream Role!

2009-07-29T11:32:00.003-04:00

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!

Featuring:

-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
Free!
http://creeklic.com/directions/

Hope you can make it!

Love,

Glennis

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

The Striptease Bus Is Coming

2009-07-13T10:52:00.001-04:00

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 www.billyandadam.com for more of their videos!

Love,

Glennis

I just want you to know,

2009-07-12T01:30:00.000-04:00

A Little MJ Love

2009-06-26T10:55:00.002-04:00

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.

Enjoy.

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

Love,

Glennis

PS - Please don't call me.

NY Stories

2009-06-24T10:14:00.002-04:00

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!

xoxo

Glennis

Paralyzed by Glennis

2009-06-22T17:52:00.004-04:00

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.

LOVE,

Glennis

Fancy Pandies

2009-06-21T10:01:00.003-04:00

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
$5.00

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!

xoxo

Glennis

Totes Profesh

2009-06-17T16:04:00.004-04:00

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.

Glennis

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

Girls Kick It

2009-06-16T14:07:00.002-04:00

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

No. No there is not.

Kick ass, ladies!

Glennis

Obsessed with Obsessed

2009-06-09T15:08:00.007-04:00

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.

BEST_SHOW_EVER

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,

Glennis

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

Word, LA. Word.

2009-06-05T15:04:00.004-04:00

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 Hotwire.com 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?

GLENNIS OUT!

Mommies Day!

2009-05-04T17:47:00.003-04:00

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!

Love,

Glennis

Parody Mondays

2009-05-04T13:59:00.012-04:00

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.

Love,

Glennis

Debate

2009-05-04T09:17:00.003-04:00

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!!

Love,

Glennis

Fascination Street

2009-04-30T15:19:00.003-04:00

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,

Glennis

Glennis: The Meal

2009-04-28T13:21:00.006-04:00

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!!

Um...

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.

Booooooodbug!

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.

Love,

Glennis

Wedding Weekend Recap!

2009-04-27T11:54:00.004-04:00

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.

Love,

Glennis

Doc Drama

2009-04-14T10:06:00.003-04:00

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!!

xoxo

Glennis

Birthday Asshole

2009-04-13T11:08:00.004-04:00

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)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDe-XBJAL_A

Love,

Glennis

Skating Racists

2009-04-12T23:39:00.007-04:00

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.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

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?

Love,

Glennis!

Taking Over The Net

2009-03-31T22:01:00.002-04:00

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.

Second...

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! www.poptudors.com

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.

xoxo

Glennis

Stress Buster

2009-03-20T15:52:00.004-04:00

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.

Love,

Glennis

L.A. Girls

2009-03-18T12:49:00.005-04:00

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.

Love,

Glennis

I Lied

2009-03-17T22:05:00.001-04:00

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.

Love,

Glennis

New Site

2008-11-21T20:20:00.002-05:00

I've finally grown tired of wrestling with html and hosting sites and have decided to go with the ease of iWeb. Aside from a few glitches here and there it's pretty fun and simple. SO! You can still access my website at www.glennismcmurray.com but if you view it on IE it might look weird (one of the glitches I'm working on) and if you get an error message you might need to clear cookies. Lame, I know.

But it's worth it because it's a brand new look with tons of pictures and a new blog! I'll no longer be posting here.

xoxo

Glennis

2008-10-23T16:54:00.002-04:00

This is my dad, Tom.

My poor, sweet daddy has early-onset Alzheimer's. He's only 63.

My dad was the king of cheesy jokes and gave me my sense of humor. His favorite thing to say after a bombed attempt at a joke was, "Hey Glennis? Nice try." My dad cared about the environment and biked everywhere he could in our small town in Colorado. He recycled, had a composte pile and grew his own vegetables. He also grew and smoked a lot of weed and he voted for Nader because he knew in his heart he was the best man for the job. He and my mom got married in a field and a friend of theirs said, "Abracadabra!" My dad might not have always been around but he did the best he could with what he had, and he helped make me who I am today. If my dad could still have a conversation with me we'd have so much to talk about. He'd be so proud of the person I've become and what I've accomplished. But life isn't fair and pretty soon my dad won't know who I am, let alone what a similar person to him I've become: the awesome daughter of an even awesomer man.

I'm taking part in the Alzheimer's walk on Sunday with my sister, Kelsey. If you have a few extra dollars please consider donating it to the Alzhiemer's Assocation by clicking this link.

Thank you.

My Solo Showlo

2008-09-06T16:36:00.002-04:00

Hey guys!

This Thursday, the 11th of September, I'll be doing a solo show at UCB. Hope you can make it.

Glennis Does Some Characters and Shit (working title)
9/11/08
7:00pm
UCB Theatre
307 West 26th Street @ 8th Avenue
Reservations here: http://newyork.ucbtheatre.com/shows/652
$5.00

I hope no one lines my show with dynamite. Too soon?

xoxo

Glennis

The Dawn of Glennis

2008-08-28T13:11:00.003-04:00

I finally got my shit together and did an overnight sleep study (I'm pretty sure my closest compadres and lover - singular - were tired of hearing me say "I'm tired.") last night. And I was. ALL THE TIME. Well, I technically still am but I feel like this is a new day! I took one step closer to becoming normal. No more hazy days!

This is what you look like if you do a sleep study. It's VERY uncomfortable. I get results back in two weeks.

Another thing you should look forward to... My character show at UCB. The 11th of September, 7pm. Stay tuned for more info and a title.

xoxo

Glennis

Revamp!

2008-08-21T15:32:00.001-04:00

Hey guys! I totally revamped my website. Enjoy!

www.glennismcmurray.com

xoxo

Glennis

Pandas Tonight

2008-08-20T14:45:00.003-04:00

Tonight @ 9:30pm
I Eat Pandas: We Classy
UCB Theatre
307 West 26th Street @ 8th Ave
$5.00

My eye is almost all better so I'll literally see you there.

xoxo

Glennis

Sound & Vision

2008-08-15T21:22:00.003-04:00

Right now. AT THIS VERY MOMENT. AS YOU READ THIS I have blood floating around in my right eye. Moving as I move my eye this way and that. Swirling around as I look up and down and clouding my vision so that everything is seen through a bloody, liquidy milkshake.

How did this happen, you may ask?

By singing, friends.

That's right, dudes. On Wednesday night during an I Eat Pandas show at UCB I sang so hard, rocked out so much, kicked so much ass that my body was like "we've taken enough! we can't take no more!" and so, during the last note of the last song I kicked it up a notch ("squeezing the old buns" as we "pros" call it) and burst a blood vessel in my right eye!

It happened just before the lights went out after the 15-minute musical so I think the burst vessel in my field of vision stood out even more. I walked over to the clock with blood rushing from to my head, trying not to pass out and freaking out because I couldn't move the black line in the middle of my eye. And I couldn't freak out audibly because we still had the 5-minute musical to do. SO. I reset the clock, acted as normal as I could and hoped for the best and, because I have the bestest comedy partner around, I knew we'd be ok. We got through a clunky 5-minute musical where I refused to sing a single note and when we got off stage I immediately started doing a girly freak out to Eliza.

I went to the doc yesterday and they saw the blood floating in there (as it had left the vein and the layer further in and was now closer to the center of my eye). They did a sonogram, looked in my eyes over and over, dilated them, poked them, and at least 5 or 6 docs looked in my eyes with bright lights that made me feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin. They concluded it was from singing and that it would clear up itself within a month. Or more. Who knows, really? All they told me is if the blood doesn't clear up (and they said it moved closer and closer to the front of the eye so does that mean I'll have a beat-red eye for a while? I should have asked that...), that if it doesn't clear up I may need surgery. Gulp.

The point is:

Yes, this is insanely annoying and makes my depth perception terrible.
and
Yes, I have 4 shows next week, two of which will be doubly difficult with a huge wig and heels.
BUT...

This is still the coolest injury I've ever gotten. How hardcore am I?

Love,

Glennis "bloodeye" McMurray

DEAL

2008-08-01T11:21:00.002-04:00

Hey world? Guess what? You're gonna have to start dealing with the fact that when I Eat Pandas does something people be gettin' boners up in this bitch.

Best Week Ever lady boner provided by the lovely Sara Schaefer:

http://www.bestweekever.tv/2008/08/01/what-klondike-should-do-for-a-klondike-bar/

Hoootio Hooooooooooo

Love,

Glennis

Rejected

2008-07-31T14:15:00.005-04:00

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

2008-07-16T18:46:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-15T22:37:00.003-04:00

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

Pretty Girl!

2008-06-24T11:53:00.002-04:00

Here's to having far too much time on my child-sized hands!

Love,

Glennis

New Video!

2008-06-16T23:53:00.000-04:00

NOW WALK IT OUT!!!

Love,

Glennis

Panders

2008-06-11T18:30:00.004-04:00

Have you still not seen an I Eat Pandas show? Come see what all the kids are whoopin and hollerin about! Us!

(Well, us and Coke Zero... people are still really excited about that stuff.)

I Eat Pandas in We Classy
Monday, June 16th
9:30pm
UCB Theatre
307 W 26th St @ 8th Ave
$5.00
I shit you not. Only $5.00.

I Eat Pandas - Better than Coke Zero.

xoxo

Love,

Glennis

Holy balls

2008-06-07T14:17:00.002-04:00

You guys the creator and EP of Celebrity Rehab (aka the best show ever) just emailed me saying he liked my Shelly the Shark video and that he was going to SHOW IT TO SHELLY. What!? I think his exact words were, "Just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your Shelly The Shark impression ... I'm going to show that one to Shelly tomorrow -- it's spot on and totally hilarious."

I'll be in LA in July and I swear to god you guys... meeting her would be amazing. She kicks so much ass.

Love,

Glennis

Close, But No Cigar

2008-06-02T18:06:00.004-04:00

I Eat Pandas took off this past weekend to perform in one of our favorite places to date: Charleston, SC. The mix of Southern hospitality, palm trees, adorable stores and The Have Nots! (the improv group who are responsible for our presence there and the entire improv scene in Charleston) is a rare combination and you can mark my words we'll be back! Our shows were all nearly sold out (with the last one completely packed) and we performed with a brand new pianist from Chicago who we'd not only never met before but never played with! Jon Wagner is an all around great guy and great pianist and he really stepped up to the plate for our shows!

So yes, it was a great weekend.

And then today I got a google alert for a review of our show. Now let me just say that I'm open to what people have to say about us. Comedy is totally subjective, improv is not for everyone, musicals may not be your thing... I get it. We've never gotten bad press (most of our frustration comes from people assuming we pre-plan or write the stuff we do) and this review wasn't a negative review of our show by any means. In fact most of it is pretty sweet, if not a bit bizarre.

Until the last line.

I'll skip ahead for you (and then post the entire review below):

"In short, in a world where women are just not smart or funny, Glennis McMurray and Eliza Skinner manage to come pretty close."

I don't even know where to begin with that comment. When I initially read it I thought it must be a typo, right? There's no way A WOMAN would write something like that, is there? And I honestly still have trouble believing someone would write that without thinking twice. You are a woman writing a review of a comedy show for the Charleston City Paper. That must make you pretty smart, right? If not a genius then at least a competent, capable WOMAN, right? I mean no, we're not talking rocket science here but I'm no scientist and I consider myself pretty smart. Levels, people. And on top of that I have to think you thought your opening line, "Glennis McMurray and Eliza Skinner may have old lady names, but their musical improv is as young and fresh as it gets." was pretty funny. Otherwise you would have stuck to something bland and ho-hum like "Glennis McMurray and Eliza Skinner are a two-woman musical improv group." Sure it gets the point across but it doesn't have the humor of old lady names in it! (I honestly do think that's so bizarre it's funny. I'm not being condescending.)

So why, Meaghan Strickland, would you write such a thing?

I've been in these situations countless times. People... WOMEN... have said to my face "it's really great that you're a funny women because women really aren't funny." Blanket statement. Super douchie. And chances are (even though that is clearly not true) you aren't informed enough to say something like that. You haven't seen every female comedian out there. You wouldn't say something so dismissive and disrespectful about another race, would you? So why is this ok?

Oh but she said we "come close" so I guess it's not so bad, right?

Listen, if you are a woman who doesn't think women are funny (or smart?) let me just say this: As a female comedian I can attest to the fact that it's fucking hard to get our voices heard and appreciated the way men can. And most of the time "funny" has nothing to do with it. There are no shows on TV right now where the woman is the zany character who gets to have all the fun and the man plays it straight. That sucks. And honestly I kinda feel like every time a woman says "women aren't funny" I should work that much harder to get a TV show where my husband cleans up after my wild antics and my kids are in a crazy band with a dog named John BONE-ham playing the drums (NBC? Is that you at my door?). And I guess I do. But I also feel like... FUCK! If that's how you STILL FEEL after all the shit going on right now with women in comedy then I don't know what to do. So I just shut up, do my show and hope that will change your mind.

I know. Who cares what one person thinks. Blanket statements about one class, race or gender are never right and I know the truth so who cares, right? And if she had said this to my face you never would have heard about it but the fact that this has gone to print, is online and people are reading it makes me mad.

So, Meaghan, if you are reading this (and I hope you are) that was a shitty thing to write. If it was a typo then, lady, you gotta get someone to proof that shit. Writing on a blog like this I even worry about what I say and I only have like 6 readers including my mom!

But thanks for the kind things you did say, I guess.

Here's the entire review:

Glennis McMurray and Eliza Skinner may have old lady names, but their musical improv is as young and fresh as it gets.

In January, during the Charleston Comedy Festival, the musical improv duo I Eat Pandas blessed the Holy City with its presence. Pandas proved to be one of the major hits of the fest, performing sold-out shows for super-enthused crowds.

Immediately after performing here, I Eat Pandas took home the 2008 ECNY Award for Best Improv Group. Coincidence? Perhaps not. The pair’s return to the Lowcountry for Piccolo Fringe suggests that Chucktown is their good luck charm, they’ve recognized it, and are back for more. But, perhaps we’re reading too much into things.

For whatever reason, I Eat Pandas has returned, and we should consider ourselves the lucky ones.

I Eat Pandas’ opening show was another in a series of grand slam Charleston performances. The audience laughed and clapped their way through the three made-up-on-the-spot musicals. Considering that much of the audience identified themselves as repeat attendees, such audience affirmation becomes even more significant: it wasn’t just the novelty of musical improv that got the crowd going, but what the ladies were singing and how well they did it.

However, what really makes the performance isn’t the singing, it’s the exchange between the two gals. Despite the years of familiarity, they somehow managed to repeatedly make each other laugh, which is then doubly amusing for the audience. It’s both endearing and endlessly entertaining to watch two performers get a genuine kick out of each other.

Although technically not a part of the improv, and possibly demeaning to the art I Eat Pandas produces, it must be said: Glennis McMurray and Eliza Skinner are awesome dressers. If you don’t like to laugh or listen to music (read: if you are a huge freak), the women’s wardrobe might be enough to spurn your attendance at the next I Eat Pandas performance. Both comediennes rock sweet sneaks and enviable bling.

It is almost unbelievable watching two people spontaneously compose 50 minutes worth of musical theatre. Watching the two improvers actually eat pandas may be the only more awe-inspiring activity available. In short, in a world where women are just not smart or funny, Glennis McMurray and Eliza Skinner manage to come pretty close.

Long time...No Me

2008-05-15T23:49:00.005-04:00

What I've Been Up To

Hi guys! How's life?

As you can see I've been busy! But I missed you. Don't get it twisted! I certainly did! And I missed blogging - swear! And for a moment I considered changing blogs and killing this one (sorry hunny) because it reminds me of my old job (the same thing that keeps me from eating at those weird salad bar deli things we have in NY - the smell reminds me of "the job") but then I thought NAH. I'm too lazy!

So I'm back! A whole new chapter has opened up and you're on page ONE MOTHAFUCKAH!

And here, for your enjoyment is the most awesome thing I've found since I quit my job (among other awesome things that escape me right now. Also I'm kinda drunk.):

a) do you have a Mac?
b) do you use jabber via ichat?
c) good, then open ichat and go to "preferences"
d) click on "alerts"
e) next to "event:" there is a drop-down menu. Click on "message received."
f) now click on "announce when event occurs" down there at the bottom
g) and last, but not least, have a trusted pal or companion write dirty things to you.

"Pee pee pooh pooh" is my favorite so far. "Vaginay," which is not a word, sounds hilarious and the Steven Hawkings-like voice doesn't seem to notice its absence from the dictionary. I'd like to thank my beautiful friend Brandon Snider for "pee pee" and "pooh poohing" for about 10 solid minutes while I laughed like a lunatic and called out to my roommate to listen. Best part was when we sort of forgot that this was happening and she started telling me something semi-serious (as opposed to laughing like assholes) and then we heard the voice say "Brandon Snider says - Fart."

Just, I mean... can you please... just please...try your best to make this happen, people. IT'S AWESOME.

And I am 5.

xoxo

I love you all.

All 4 of you who still read this.

Love,

Glennis

But What Am I?

2008-04-17T16:14:00.002-04:00

I hemmed and hawed about what to send as my "farewell" email today at work and decided on this (with the above as my subject line):

Today is my last day in the firm.

Just like Pee Wee Herman in his Big Adventure...

I'm off to find my bike.

PEACE

-glennis

I hope you all find your bikes, too.

Love,

Glennis

New Slang - '08 Edition

2008-04-16T19:53:00.002-04:00

I just coined a few new phrases and I'm sharing them with you!

Prrrthetic: When you do something really pathetic but it ends up making you look adorable. Example: I learned the lyrics to a bootie-blasting rap song that we play before I Eat Pandas so I could look awesome. Do I? Indeed I do. Prrrrr. (thetic) Also, I want to be on a TV show but not because I want to be famous but because everyone on TV shows have iPhones. And I want an iPhone. Pretty prrrrthetic!

Be-bong: "Beyond" for stoners. Dude... that last piece of pizza was BE-BONG good.

Out-RegisandKathyLee: When something is so outrageous it's OUTREGISANDKATHYLEE. Am I old? I am right? Cuz I didn't say OUTREGISANDKELLY. (Matty helped me coin that one. I give props where props is due!)

YOU'RE WELCOME!

Oh and if you want more mind bending comedy like that come to my show tonight! In 1.5 hours! It will be be-bong good!

I EAT PANDAS in: WE CLASSY (same show, different name)
Tonight at 9:30pm
UCB Theatre
307 West 26th Street @ 8th Avenue
$5.00

xoxo

Glennis

I've Got a Lot of Living To Do

2008-04-16T09:33:00.004-04:00

Dear Office,

Wow.

I don't know how to say this.

We've been together for so long! You are a part of me! You're where I come to get some serious TCB done! It's going to be so hard to leave you... and yet. I must.

Hey, Office... Remember the time I stepped away from my desk to make a few copies and came back to 1-2-3-4 (Sumpin' New) by Coolio blasting on my iPod? Ha! Classic Glennis. (And don't mess, I saw you dancing to it when I got back to my desk, Office!)

And remember the time I made coffee and forgot to put the pot underneath!? Who does that!!? You were right there for me, letting that scalding hot coffee pour over you. Never once yelling at me or making me feel incompetent.

You kept me warm in the winter and insanely cold in the summer.

You never trapped me in your elevator where I would have definitely gone into labor because wouldn't that just be the time?! Hey, thanks for that, Office.

You'd often leave free food out in conference rooms for me when you knew I was having a tough time with money!

You've taken care of me for 7 years! But now it's time for me to break away and take care of myself. I'll be "TCM" right, Office? ...right?

And so, dear Office, to quote one of our favorite singers,

I...

Love,

Glennis

Video #1

2008-03-31T20:39:00.002-04:00

Hey guys! It's a video of me doing a character! Well, more of an impression but it's me all the same. And thanks to Brad for the gentle reminder to get me off my ass and into the editing room. More of that, please!

Enjoy!

Love,

Glennis

What's a Fire and Why Does It What's The Word... Burn

2008-03-20T12:44:00.002-04:00

When I was in high school I sang a lot with my best friend, Brittany. Our two most memorable performances were 3-part harmony (with another pal) of "Papa Can You Hear Me" from the Barbara Streisand vehicle, Yentel and "Castle on a Cloud" complete with choreographed moves.

Tomorrow at midnight you can see me complete this theatre nerd trifecta when I perform "Part of Your World" at the amazing High School Talent Show at the UCB Theatre.

You so do not want to miss this you guys.

Love,

Glennis

Break on Through!!

2008-03-19T09:53:00.005-04:00

Last night was amazing. It was one of those nights I've been waiting for for a long time and I can't even tell you how insignificant it probably seemed to everyone else. Last night I did Carolyn & Nichelle's final Chicks & Giggles show at Ochi's Lounge.

See?

Not really something to write home about! Not that the show is insignificant by any means but performing in a show isn't really groundbreaking news. Unless you're me!

For the longest time (woahoohoh) there's been a self-sabotaging voice inside my head trying to fuck with me. Saying things like "why are you even bothering with this? no one thinks you're funny. you're NOT funny. you're so god awful, why even GO on auditions?" EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Like all day long. And I'd fight that stupid voice with every ounce of strength I had. I'd talk about it in therapy, I'd give myself pep talks, I'd do shows and go on auditions but that voice... that fucking voice... that stupid voice always won!

So I knew I had to do something to change that. I knew I had to prove that stupid part of my brain wrong. Just one little thing, that's all it would take. I wrote that post about Going For It and I meant it. I really did. But you can talk about something till you're blue in the face but talking won't change shit! I had the best intentions to put together an audition tape, I really did mean to work on characters and show everyone (MYSELF) what I can do, but unless you do it it really doesn't matter, now does it. You can say you're going to donate money to cancer research but if no one gets a check you're just a dude with good intentions. Cancer ain't gonna cure itself, bitches!

But I'm getting off track.

So I put it out there in that post and my dear friend Carolyn got my vibes (or read my blog) and asked me to do their final show which brings me to last night.

It was different. I wasn't nervous; I was excited. I haven't been excited to be on stage in a long time. A LONG time. It's not that I don't love performing but when that voice takes over it's the most painful experience. It's all based in fear and doubt and when does that ever produce good results. All I can say is thank god for Eliza Skinner because without her our Pandas shows would have been shit. I know I added some stuff but a lot of me stood there going "fuck. fuck. what do I do. fuck! I have nothing!" I was afraid to do anything. Afraid it would be the wrong choice. Not afraid that Eliza would hate it, not afraid the audience would boo me, just... afraid. Full of doubt and fear.

So there I was last night about to go on stage BY MYSELF. No Eliza. (She was there but what was I going to do call to her in the audience? Grow up, McMurray.) And this feeling of confidence was there and this feeling of excitement and I just sat there wishing and hoping and praying it wouldn't go away the minute I set foot on the stage. Praying that little voice would sleep through my act.

Carolyn called me up to the stage. I stood up. There was no blurry tunnel vision. There was no heartbeat in my ears. I walked toward the stage and didn't feel like I was going to pass out. I got ON the stage and looked at the audience. Really looked at them. I took a minute and I let them know who was in charge here! Hey, fucko to the left who talked through the first 10 minutes of the show! You! SHUT THE FUCK UP AND WATCH ME! And I said that all with my eyes. SPOOKY.

Maybe not.

But you get the idea.

I finished my piece, walked off the stage and half expected everyone to jump up and down with me going "you did it! you did it, Glennis!" Of course, no one did because like I said... it was just a show. After the show was over a girl told me I was hilarious and to my surprise I said thanks and meant it. Before I would have said thanks and then thought, "you clearly don't know shit."

I keep almost writing, "I'm not going to say I'll never hear that voice again..." but I can't! I really can't even write it because I don't EVER want to hear that voice again!

Sigh. What a great night, you guys.

Go team!

Love,

Glennis

The Luv-enator

2008-03-19T09:32:00.005-04:00

Isn't this photo of Gov Paterson hilarious coupled with the story about his extramarital affairs??

How on Earth did they capture a picture of him mid-Nut Bust?! He's really showin his "OH" face! Got a little game of pocket polo goin on down there, do ya!?

Hold on someone is waving at me from across the room. Jesus can't they see I'm in the middle of a hilarious routine?

WHAT?

Nooooo...

Get out of town!

Legally blind, huh?

Wow.

So...

Wow.

But it really does look like he's C-ing doesn't it?

Yeeaaaah.. High Five!

Love,

Glennis

Lost Approved

2008-03-17T12:42:00.003-04:00

Jin NEEDS the panda. Do you?

See you tonight @ UCB @ 9:30pm.

xoxo

Glennis

Whoa-oh-oh On the Radio

2008-03-11T16:12:00.003-04:00

Hey guys!

You can hear me and my pal Becky Yamamoto on Maxim Sirius Radio tomorrow night (Weds, March 12) at 8pm on the DeVore & Diana Show dishing and dirtying up the airwaves with our filthy minds. It'll be a blast and you can hear us for free with a trial subscription! Follow this link!

DeVore and Diana
7 pm - 11 pm ET
Eighty proof radio for men who love women, and the women who put up with their crap. Join former Maxim magazine Senior Writer John DeVore and the first lady of Maxim Radio, Diana Falzone, Monday through Friday, 7 pm to 11 pm ET. John loves calling bull@#! on stuck up bastards, and Diana's a multi-talented hottie with an angel's voice and a dirty twinkle in her eye. Crack a beer, bring an opinion, and hang with these two every night as they fight, laugh, make-up, and talk from the gut about sex, realtionships, pop culture, and the weirdest, most disturbing news of the day.

Love,

Glennis

GO FOR IT

2008-03-11T11:45:00.005-04:00

I wrote a post last year about the Year of No Fear. This was in the midst of me sitting through weekly therapy sessions saying things like "But what if..." and "I'm just afraid that if I do that..." I knew I wasn't really in the Year of No Fear no matter how many times I said it. But sometimes you just have to put those things out there. The thing I need to work on is being accountable for what I say and even what I write on this here blog.

For example?

Someone came up to me a few months ago and said, "oh hey, how did your SNL tape come out?" It took me a second of going "what the hell is this person talking about?" before I realized I had written that on my blog. It was part of my Year of No Fear! Going for something I was afraid of doing but had always wanted to. And now look at what's happened? They hired a new girl, someone I knew of and who did comedy in the same places I did, and I didn't even put myself out there. Rejection or not it's a far worse feeling to not have ever tried something, I'm finding.

So I've decided, with much hemming and hawing over holding myself accountable for this, that 2008 is the Year to GO FOR IT. Go team McMurray!

What does this mean for you, dear reader? Well, among other things, more blog posts. How's that for something? And more Glennis on camera. While putting together my reel (ahem, while MATT PUT IT TOGETHER - I love you honey) it became painfully clear how little on camera stuff I had been doing lately and how many ideas I had each day that I let slip by for one reason or another. Putting yourself out there is scary and I commend anyone who does it! Even if it garners a few negative responses (and let's face it, anonymity + a computer = instant asshole) you have to believe that these people are proud of what they've done. Eliza is one of the hardest working comedians I know right now, working hard on her own videos, constantly writing, always coming up with new ideas and I admire her for that. The people spouting their negativity should step away from the computer and try to create something unique and interesting for a change. Guess what? I guarantee you won't find Eliza sitting at her computer commenting on Youtube to make people feel shitty about what they're putting out there. She has better things to do.

So, as my first order of business in my Year to GO FOR IT I will indeed be working on characters for an SNL audition tape. I'm going to start posting a character once or twice a month (possibly more) on this blog and on a Youtube page. There. It's out there, McMurray! You are now accountable!

In addition to that I'll be putting myself out there further and GOing FOR IT even more hard core by auditioning for American Idol. There it is! It's out there! It's maybe not my ultimate dream but you know what? Neither is sitting here in an uninspiring office. Going out for American Idol is something interesting and fun... let's GO FOR IT!

So, are you ready for this or what? I am. My GO FOR IT hat is on and I'm about to toss it in the ring (and then put another one on to keep my head warm).

It's going to be a good year.

Love,

Glennis

For Reel

2008-03-07T14:19:00.002-05:00

UG! Ok you guys! Here is my freaking acting reel, already! Now will you please stop asking?

Love,

Glennis

Question

2008-03-03T19:46:00.002-05:00

Is it less grody to find a hair in the BEGINNING of your sandwich or the END?

YOU TELL ME, SUBWAY.

Wait, what are you doing reading this! Put your g.d. pants on and get on over to the UCB Theatre! I Eat Pandas is doing a show in less than 2 hours! What are you waiting for?!

GO!

GO!

GO!

And...

I love you.

Glennis