Zip It!

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!

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?

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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



Love,

Me

Glinterview

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

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

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

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

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)

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

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

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