There’s a fine line between Being adventurous and being foolhardy

I’ll let you know where that line is soon.

Home on the range

Or at least on North Ave.

After a weekend full of work, I had never been so happy to arrive home tonight. I’m enjoying a quiet evening, one of the last I’ll have, leading up to a whirlwind coming up on Wednesday. I’ll be heading to Miami for the Weezer Cruise and for those 4 days, it’s nothing but 12-14 hour days, walking, eating while standing up, and midnight shot club.

It’s quite the juxtaposition to my current Community marathon, enjoying hot tea with a ginger ale chaser. Enjoying it while I can, people, enjoying it while I can.

No touchy there, please

I did another disco themed murder mystery tonight, and I left the conference center wondering one thing: When did it become OK for a person to touch a stranger’s privates without their consent?

Two separate instances of this happened tonight within the span of two hours. Both times, they were by what I assumed to be heterosexual women. (And even if they were lesbians, it’s inexcusable. So basically, it doesn’t matter who they were.) WTF, ladies? While we were meeting & greeting the guests at the beginning of the show, my cast mate came up and said that someone wanted to know if her breasts were real, and grabbed them. The guest was politely informed by the actress (in character- what a professional!) that they are real.

We went about the show, and then began leading a trivia game. I was standing next to a table full of guests during the game, when I suddenly feel a hand on my ass. Now, I know my boyfriend wasn’t in the show tonight, so I had no idea who this could be grabbing one of my Christmas hams. (That’s what I call my butt.) It was a lady who was just really into my sequined booty shorts. I told her it costs extra, and to please refrain from touching me unless she gots the money. Seriously, are there people who don’t know about sequins? In 2012?

Friends, what’s this about? Has this ever happened to you? Have you been the person who touches strangers inappropriately? Why would you do that?

Love

This is my love letter to life.

Tonight I played in a show with the most talented people I know, which included my boyfriend. I got to PLAY and an audience laughed. I got to know Harriss on a different level. I drank Sham WOW (that’s the cool person word for Chardonnay) with cool people. This is all I ask for in life.

Afterwards, I went to a haute dog stand for faincy bangers & mash in my neighborhood. I got to walk to new & interesting places in the snappy cold. If that’s not awesome enough, a bottle of cheap wine with a pretty label was within reach. And within spitting distance of my apartment. Again, I don’t ask for much….

I know the world is pretty fucked up. But people, I implore you to take a look at the next 30 seconds of your life and love it.

 

It’s just how I roll

I just spent the last few hours as a roller skating disco diva! Yes, I lead a glamorous life. I went to Barnsley Gardens for a corporate acting gig. It was a disco themed murder mystery, so I vamped it up in my famous sequined booty shorts, a leotard, gold jacket and yes, roller skates.

I was on my feet for a good 5 hours, an they weren’t nearly as sore as if I had been wearing heels. Skates on carpeting is hard, but teaching HR professionals a dance to the YMCA was worth it.

It was a fun night, but this gal is exhausted and trying to sneak a blog post in under the wire… 11:59pm! Done!

Why I’m Gluten Free

It’s mostly because of this guy and this guy. Mostly.

Basic elaboration:  Bread makes me fart. For a more in-depth (and by “in-depth,” I mean “fart filled”) explanation, keep reading!

I started having all these weird stomach pains. It felt like I had a gas bubble that just wouldn’t move out of my spleen. Ever tried messing around with Spleen Gas? Me neither. And then I started noticing that I was uncomfortably full and farty after dinner and a beer. And then came the…. well… the part where I had to get rid of stuff my body didn’t need. I’ll leave it up to your imagination; it wasn’t anything that needs to be discussed on the internet. I figured stomach problems are usually about what you eat, right? I paid attention to what I was eating, and I was eating a ton of wheat products. So I stopped.

I haven’t discussed any of this with my doctor. You know why? I don’t want to have my gluten antibodies tested, and I sure as hell don’t want an intestinal biopsy. I don’t know how that works, but I bet it involves sticking something in my ass. No thanks, bro.

Also, when I go to my doctor, I know what he’s going to say. “When do you feel the most uncomfortable?” And I’m going to say, “After I eat a sammich, pizza or plate of pasta.” Instead of paying the copay for my doctor to tell met to stop eating those foods and see if I feel any better, I tought logically for a second. “Babs, think logically for a second. What should you do?”

DING DING DING

If you said I should stop eating the foods that make me feel like a hot air balloon, you get a million points.

Points may be redeemed for NOTHING.

Stop crying and grow up.

I’m going to save myself a deductible payment AND the pleasure of having a stranger get intimate with my anus, and call it a day. Goodbye to all the things that make me bloat!

I did some research about wheat. Turns out, I’m not the only one with this problem. Thankfully I don’t have celiac disease (or at least I don’t think I do- I’m not a doctor.) But I found some really great articles form the Huffington Post and The Atlantic, among others.

You may be wondering why I bring up Mark Sisson and Steve Kamb. Well, READ THEIR BLOGS,  ASSHAT. They’re both really good.

Mark’s Daily Apple is a great resource for anything Paleo related- gluten free, grain free, tons of veggies and lean meat, lifting heavy weights, getting enough sleep… you know, all the things our ancestors did naturally. (If you want to argue with me about evolution, we maybe could go from “friends” to acquaintances.”) It just feels healthy to me. I never hear of a doctor saying you need to eat more processed carbohydrates and fewer vegetables, along with maybe lifting fewer weights. Do you? Also, he’s got the science to back it up. I like science. I’m not all Paleo, all the time, though. It’s such a drastic change, I’m making baby steps.

A healthy meal. All it's missing is a 500 calorie muffin.

Steve at Nerd Fitness is a buddy of mine from a job we both had several years ago. (I still have the job. He now globetrots and teaches people how to rock.) He preaches the Paleo lifestyle, but throws in this awesome little bonus: if it’s too extreme for you, don’t do it! He’s a fan of making small sustainable choices that will eventually lead to huge shifts in your way of being. His site has inspired me to take a few chances that have made my life unbelievably rad, and to make a healthy choices about my diet, one step at a time. Even if you think you are the healthiest, strongest person alive, ol’ Stever could help you Level Up, as he calls it. If you’re obese, he can set you on a path to domination.

The gluten free transition is rough. You’ll notice I’m in present tense- it’s an ongoing struggle. In the beginning about 9 months ago, after my initial realization that gluten could be to blame, I was faced with a lot of temptations. And I gave in them frequently. Still do. Sometimes I buckle and eat the Varsity burgers they have for lunch at work.  But over the months, making the choice to slowly remove gluten from my diet has made a world of difference on my digestive system, and on my energy level.

If I knew how to, I'd Photoshop myself farting in my office.

Thankfully I have an amazing boyfriend who is on board for my crazy ride. He made flourless peanut butter cookies. (That’s all of my favorite things in one sentence.) I don’t have a picture of him cooking, and I’m glad. All the ladies would freak out and try to steal him, ’cause when a handsome sonofabitch cooks for a lady, it’s all over. But you can look at the cookies themselves.

Mmmmmmmmm, bitch

That’s my story. I know you guys all stress over what kind of goodies to bring me every day, so here’s an easy answer: If you bring me goodies, bring me gluten free goodies. Your nose (and my intestines) will thank you.

Anyone have a tight shiny shirt I can borrow?

Today is one of those days I just don’t have a lot to say, so I’m using my blog time to ask for shiny stuff.

I’m performing in a murder mystery on Wednesday evening, and I’m more excited about it than I should be. You see, I get to channel my inner Roller Disco Diva! It’s a corporate gig for.. you guessed it… a corporation! Normally, I would have the prefect getup. You know me, always ready for a costume party! But due to the corporate nature of the performance, I kinda have to cover my tattoos.

SO. Sequined booty shorts are go, obviously. Roller skates, duh. Do you have something shiny for my top, that has sleeves? If so, let a girl know.

“Full Service” is Right

I accepted the 30 Day Dare yesterday after a few shots of afternoon whiskey. And now I have to live with the consequences. Kids, let this be a lesson- don’t drink and dare.

I’m happy to have the opportunity to chat about something that doesn’t happen much: great service. For me, who’s easy to please and always trashy, getting exceptional service is a luxury. I’m more Clairmont Klassy than Buckhead Sassy, you know?

Last night while carousing with Harriss and a few friends, we went to Leon’s Full Service in Decatur. It was packed- forty five minutes for a table. So we drank a Blazing Saddles and waited. Did you know they have one guy there that makes all their specialty drinks? That’s a full bar, full restaurant, and one dude in an apron, mixing rye with orange and cynar (yeah, I don’t know what it is either) with just the perfect amount of lemon zest. And did I mention the ice? You get ONE ice cube. ONE. It’s huge, and perfectly square.

We made our way to a table, and got more love from all the waitstaff. Their system ensures every guest gets great service all the time. Sounds impossible, but it’s actually very easy- every waitron unit waits on every table, whether it’s in their section or not. Basically, the words, “let me get your server to take care of you,” are never said. As a former server, I can vouch for the fact that it’s a great way to make money- your service never suffers if you get overloaded, because you have everyone else on your side. THAT’S FUCKING TEAMWORK! However, it can be infuriating if  everyone isn’t on board. One selfish server can ruin tips for everyone all night. Don’t worry, Leon’s has it on LOCK.

To be perfectly honest, Leon’s is on the pricey side. This girl has been taking austerity measures, so nights out are a special treat. I would definitely head back to Leon’s for the service alone- I’ll just have to stick to the gourmet fries, and leave the duck confit for the day I celebrate getting a raise.

The Dare

I always make a looong list of stuff I wanna do at the beginning of every year. 2012, our last year on Earth, is no different. If anything, the urgency of getting it all done is making me giddy with the excitement of an ADD child.  I want to be stronger! Make art! Have fun! The world is MY OYSTER! WHHEEEEEEEE!!

But making too many changes at once ensures failure of all of them. If you don’t believe in science, you can look at my 32 years of failed resolutions. Notice how there are always a gajillion of them. Notice how I’ve never really made any major changes in January, when I make the goals. (For realsies- I quit smoking in September, I got out of a terrible relationship in November, I got in really good shape one spring, and made the decision to change my profession sometime around August. January can suck it, in terms of making changes.)

I recently discovered Healthmonth.com, which game-ifies health goals. You make simple,  easily definable goals that require small changes every day, that eventually lead to big life changes. Need to cut sugar out of your diet? Simply eat one less cookie every day, and over time, your diabetes will be all, “WTF?”

My goals for January are to completely cut gluten out of my diet, eat veggies every day, and exercise 3 times a week. I check in every day, and get points for the goals I accomplished that day, and taken away for my failures. If I fulfill my goals, I get to buy myself shiny stuff, and if I l don’t, I have to organize my computer filing system as punishment. (‘Cause I”m never going to do that until I absolutely have to.) Easy.

Another one of my goals this year is to write every day. I was planning on a 30 Day Challenge starting in February (since doing too much at once is a recipe for failure) but Harriss says that’s bullshit. Generally I trust him, but science is on my side for this one.

But he knows my kryptonite. He said I CAN’T do it. He DARED me to write a blog every day for 30 days. He’s getting my competitive side, my always has to be right side, involved.

He thinks he's better than me.

So, this is it. This is my 30 Day Dare. I can’t guarantee it’ll be any good, but every day, right here, will be something. If I can write something (whether it’s good or bad or awesome or shitty) every day for 30 days, at the end of it, I will have taught myself that I can write something good when I have to. If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball, right?

I’m still not sure if Harriss has to do anything for me if I win, or if I have to do anything for him if I punk out, but either way, I’m sure it’ll involve peanut butter.

You have 3 days. Spend them with an orgasm.

Everything you need to know, all on one deliciously pink paper.

Gah, I hope I don’t get a lot of people searching for porn ending up on my little blog. Or maybe I do?

In any case, I attended Synchronicity‘s performance of In the Next Room (or The Vibrator Play) on Monday and was delighted to see the orgasms were flowing like wine. Of course, they were medically necessary and clinically administered, but an orgasm’s an orgasm, amIright?

You already know ‘”paroxysms” were administered to women throughout the ages to cure “hysteria,” but did you know that Thomas Edison’s greatest contribution to the world was the vibrator?* The play focuses on a doctor and his wife, and how their relationship changes as he “treats” patients in the next room with Thomas Edison’s magic vibrating stick,** during the dawn of electricity in the 1800′s.

I’m going to take a minute to point out how retarded that whole “women are crazy” thing is. I won’t say much more about it, since a dude already covered it.

Moving on.

Synchronicity is known for being edgy, gutsy, sassy & smart, and this one is all of those things. It’s hard to imagine a period piece from the Victorian era being edgy, but when you add honest humor with… well, orgasms, you get an entertaining two hours. Unless you’re a man, I suppose. Or maybe just the man sitting next to me. The room was full of women and actor-types, but this fella next to me… he didn’t belong at industry night. He was dragged to a “women’s play” on a date. He was not enjoying it. The sighs, oh my god, the sighs. I felt bad for him until he did that awful man thing, sitting with his legs REALLY far apart (you know, because he can) and left me with no leg room. These are terrible people to sit next to on a plane.

It’s only running for one more weekend (THIS ONE!) So go see it. Horizon Theater. 8pm. You’ll also see a few of my friends in it! (If you’re reading this, they’re probably your friends too…) They are talented and orgasmic, I promise.

*May not be factually accurate.

**Thomas Edison was not a magician, he was a scientist.  He didn’t have a vibrating stick, either.