Thursday, May 7, 2009

Mom.

Last night I performed in the first show I've ever produced on my own. I had an idea, I talked to people about being in it, I secured a space and a music director, and I wrote something. It only took 5 years to get to this. And the show came together in three weeks.


I took for granted how frantic and scared and scattered this would make me. I didn't take my camera to the show, which I'm still sad about, but despite my willingness to blog, I take some delight in having things that will always stay in my head and not on a memory card. Or that's how I will comfort myself anyway.

The show was great. Really great. I was amazed watching 9 women whom I really respect and enjoy create original work, and I was honored that I got to do it alongside them. Some of them I've been friends with since I got to Chicago, some I've only watched and looked up to. All I regard among the best performers in the city or in all of comedy. Not hyperbole. They are that good. I'm so grateful to know them and to be able to do this thing I love. Thank you, ladies. And thank you to everyone who helped make it possible.


I did manage a few pics with my phone when a few of us went to Cesar's afterward...

Tamara, what's with your hand? I don't know.

TD and KD have a lot of business on their phones.

Katie, Tam's roommate, showed us her "dad dollar." This inspired talk of a Father's Day show. Oh boy.

Huge thanks of course to my mom. If not for her, I wouldn't have been motivated to put this show together. I would maybe not be in Chicago, not performing, well of course, I wouldn't be in this world when it comes down to it. But logistics aside, she is nuts, and I love her. She's done everything for me, and I hope that I can be the same kind of mother one day. Well, minus a few things. Thanks, mom.

Off to Florida tomorrow for the office's annual conference. And, speaking of moms, to see Danny and Honit. YAY!!

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

KNIFE FIGHT DANCE PARTY

We're really doing it. Timmy, John and I enjoy Micou's dance at Potbelly's. His dance that might be in response to his 2 year-old daughter psychotically screaming DANCE PARTY!!!!!!! It will all make sense when our videos hit the internet.

Starting next week, I might not blink until after Lollapalooza. I'm going to Miami, Portland, Phoenix, DC and...Lollapalooza. Summer in Chicago really is the best. Even in other places.


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

What I do for a Living

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!

I missed these Macy's jobs. I get to do another one this weekend. If you're in downtown Chicago Saturday from 1-3, stop by the kids dept. You can get your face painted too.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

The Daddy Tomato Squished the Baby Tomato...

Almost a week ago, I was doing this.... Shamrock Shuffle! Megan, Timmy and I braved the Chicago spring and walked 5k through slush and snow with squishy shoes. In the end, we had our pride, accomplishment and whole wheat bagels provided by Whole Foods.

Today, I did this. We filmed some promo videos for CSz at the Intercontinental. He's blurry, but that's Brian about to pull a Looney Tunes on the inexplicable subway staircase painted on the wall. Good bit.

And the day just gets better. Mom sent me this novelty card and a kick ass recipe for brownies. Between this, yoga and Buffy, it's really shaped up to be the best Saturday on record.

So what has been happening since I've been blog-absent...well, not a lot. It's the eve of my favorite mass of the year, not counting Easter Vigil. I'm all giddy for Palm Sunday tomorrow. And how has Lent been? Well, every year I have pretty grand designs on how my Lent will unfold...how many rosaries I will say, how many volunteer hours I will accrue. And I tend to reach Holy Week with an unchecked spiritual to-do list and an intent to cram for the final. This year is no different, except that it's very different. Unchecked list, check. Unchecked Catholic guilt, uncheck.

Holy Weeeeeeeeeeeeeek!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Becoming

Last week on the first Friday of Lent I was abstaining from meat, as is Catholic tradition. Throughout the day I started to think, "Huh...I wonder if I really need to be eating meat at all." The answer over the last few days has become a clear, "I don't think so." And so I have done what I tend to do with any new idea: jumped in with my clothes on and swam around in it. I've been reading all kinds of vegetarian websites, health info, recipes, etc. I've known vegetarians and Vegans my whole life and have never really understood it. I think I'm beginning to. I will not use my blog to elaborate on the health or environmental benefits of vegetarianism in an effort to inform or convert my 8 faithful readers. As with my religion, I don't believe in outright evangelism, I believe in living your principles. So I'll talk about how I feel, but I take no official position on your eating habits. Yes, you.

That said, this is not about vegetarianism per se. This is about "becoming." It's a big word, in addition to being the title of one of the best two-part season finales in all of TV history. I have been meat-free for almost one week. I've felt compelled to keep people informed of my decision, but at no point have I told anyone, "I'm a vegetarian." I don't feel like I am one. Not yet. We can call ourselves a lot of things. I am a girl. I am a 28 year-old. I am an American of Irish-German descent. Those are finite titles that can be scientifically proven. The phrase "I am" shouldn't be thrown around the way it often is. This is well illustrated in the Spanish language, where there are two separate forms of the verb "to be," ser and estar, one referring to state of being and one referring to properties of being. The English "am" is...broad.

I tell people I'm Catholic, that I'm a Democrat, that I'm a bad flier. The truth is, I practice Catholicism, I'm more aligned with Democratic ideals and sometimes I take valium and fall asleep at my gate and miss a business flight. The tangible act of "being" one thing or another demands long term commitment, unwavering consistency, a binding legal contract or plain old genetic programming. I've only recently started referring to myself as an actor because in the past year I have more times than not gotten paid to do just that. Before I was an actor, I was a contract administrative assistant who practiced the skill of comedic performance. That doesn't sound as cool when you're introducing yourself to someone at a bar.

A woman who has a baby becomes a mother. She becomes a mother through the experience of carrying a child and enduring labor (I am in no way undermining the motherhood of a woman who adopts. She becomes in a different way). A man becomes a father through his interaction with the mother and the child. That's why I always contend that a woman becomes a mother...a man has to earn fatherhood.

My favorite yoga instructor always talks to us at the beginning of class. There is a clear delineation between the instructors at my gym who teach "fitness yoga" and those who teach "spiritual yoga." This particular woman strikes the perfect balance. So she talks to us before class about setting our intention and often she offers some yoga-inspired philosophy. The most striking to me so far was a quote she relayed. So striking in fact that I'm paraphrasing it...but it was something to the effect of "The perfection is in the practice." It is difficult for any of us in our lifetimes to say we've arrived somewhere or finished something or fully become whatever. But we sure do practice.

Each Sunday I practice my Catholic faith. A couple times a week, I practice my improv and acting skills in front of an audience. Now when I eat, I practice vegetarianism. Hopefully in the times between practicing these things, I am becoming them.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Reach Out and Touch Faith

Mostly because I'm listening to Johnny Cash's cover of Personal Jesus right now. Man, that guy, huh? (Thanks, Wolfson, for this CD. You're getting it back tonight)

I won't bother to continually apologize for my lack of blog. Wait, did I just...? Regardless... it's suddenly Lent again. I feel like just yesterday I was receiving ashes in the Galaxy of the Stars lounge aboard the NCL Spirit. So each year I make some Lenten promises, sacrifices and intentions. The intentions this year are more nebulous than usual, but nonetheless, um, intentional. My sacrifice is pretty concrete: I'm giving up drinking for 40 days. It's not as though I drink regularly to excess, but the regularly part is true and I've decided it can only save me money, calories and dignity to lay off for a while.


As for intentions...well, the pattern I noticed of Natalie circa 2008 was excess. To "comfort" myself in the hard/lonely/confusing times of '08 I grew accustomed to never saying no to myself. So in the tradition of Lent in general, this will be a season of denial. Not arbitrary denial for the sake of it, but denial for the sake of health and patience and growth. In short: for Lent I'm giving up being spoiled.


Ash Wednesday is one of my favorite days on the liturgical calendar. It's the heading at the top of a clean slate.