Dear Strep Throat...

Dear Strep Throat:

GO AWAY! I hate you! I hated you when I was ten years old and would get you every winter. I hate you now and the fact that you have kept me awake for the past two nights. I hate that you make me feel like I'm drowning in my own spit because I can't swallow!

I hate that I can't eat solid food! I hate gargling with salt water!

DIE STREP THROAT, DIE!

Signed,

Maia

Watch those hands buddy!

I willingly admit to the fact that I am a fan of good ten minute back massage at a nail salon. Almost always after my manicure is complete, I indulge myself in a back massage that costs about $15. Sometimes its worth every penny and sometimes I'm gravely disappointed. But, never less, I'm sure at least an ounce or two of lactic acid has been squeezed out of a muscle and I will at least feel better for a bit. I tend to carry all of my tension in my shoulders, so its worth it to me to feel those knots disappear even if it is only for a moment or two.

However, lately I've started to notice a trend at my local nail salon. I must say this upfront, I would never even consider finding another salon because this place's manicure lasts me longer than any other manicure I've had in this city. They are the best I've found. I will not give them up! The problem is obviously not with the manicure, but with the massage that comes after.

I've noticed what was intended as a back massage tends to wander to other places!

No, not there you dirty minded people!

I'm saying as I sit in the massage chair, they tend to move pretty far down my back to the point where I have to ask myself, "Do they realize they are essentially massaging my ass?" I mean, it's not a high tension area generally speaking. I'm sorry, but the only time I am okay with this area being massaged period is only in my fantasies and there my masseuse looks spectacularly like Alex Skarsgard... No offense to the lovely ladies at the nail salon.

Maybe I need to start being more specific.

Rather than tell them I want a back massage, I ask for a shoulder massage. ONLY shoulders!

Maybe I should get a tramp stamp that says "Do Not Touch Below THIS Line!"

Either way, my bum is not to be massaged, thank you!

Help! I'm covered in bees!

One night while I was still in high school I was flipping channels one night (remember flipping channels? Wow, that's such an extinct art now!) when I came across a stand-up comedian on HBO. The fact that he was wearing make-up, heels and a pair of shiny pleather-like pants didn't just catch my attention... The fact that he had me laughing after just a moment's viewing made me stay on the channel. That moment was an eye opener. It was my first, albeit incomplete, viewing of Eddie Izzard's Emmy Award winning "Dressed to Kill" special. I have never looked back. He is one of my longest unhealthy obsessions, and one that I never see going away.

Since that moment, I have shared a very serious and intense love affair with Mr. Izzard. He's just not aware of it.

I own all of his stand up DVDs and have seen the vast majority of his acting roles, and believe me when I say some of those are movies only a true fan would enjoy... *ahem* All the Queen's Men *ahem* It wasn't until I moved to New York that I was finally fortunate enough to see this brilliant man perform live.

The first time was two years ago when he was performing at the Union Square Theatre, trying out material for his upcoming tour. Being the incredible fortunate person that I am, I contacted my friend in the box office at the theater (Thanks Mandy! I never forgot this favor!!) who was able to hook me and 7 of my nearest and dearest up with FOURTH row tickets. Amazing. It wasn't as thought out as his normal stand up routines, he was testing out new material. About ten minutes of the night were spent making fun of a guy making some weird noises in the back. But, it was one of the most amazing 90 minutes of my entire life. With tears streaming down my cheeks I vowed then and there that if I were ever given more opportunities to see him live, I would be there every single time.

And I have.

That following summer he performed at Radio City Music Hall in the now official tour called "Stripped." I attended with my littler sister in tow, whom I had converted into an Eddie Izzard fan at a very young age. I hobbled my way into the second balcony of Radio City and on crutches no less, as I had had surgery just a few weeks prior. Didn't stop me. Come hell or high water, I was going to see Eddie. And believe me, that was no easy feat! And again, it was a priceless memory. Seeing him on that infamous stage was amazing.

What I love about Eddie Izzard is that he is not only an amazing comedian and a talented actor (he just made some bad choices there for a while) but he is just an amazing individual. He recently completed not one, but 43 marathons in 51 days for charity. That's right. 43. He is very active politically and he's not afraid to speak his mind. He says what everyone is thinking, but afraid to say aloud. He's smart, and he makes you think.

Last July, I was thankfully notified by Ticketmaster that tickets for Eddie Izzard were going on sale to the public the next morning at ten a.m. for a gig in Madison Square Garden. Definitely not a typical venue for Mr. Izzard, who has primarily performed in theaters, not arenas. I gathered my troops and we were lucky enough to get floor seats. Knowing that the Stripped tour hadn't performed a new gig in a while, and the fact that it was in Madison Square Garden led me to believe that they might be recording this performance. I was right. As we walked in, there was a huge platform of cameras about fifty feet behind us and two large cameras on booms close to the stage. At first I wondered if they might be the cameras for the three jumbo-trons that were set up around the stage, but consider once Eddie came out, those cameras were steady, I knew the boom cameras were for a recording. But the thing that convinced me the most were the cameras going up and down the aisles filming crowd reaction shots. (Keep an eye out for me! I wasn't on an aisle but they filmed my section a lot!)

Even though I had already seen this particular routine about three times now, it still made me laugh until tears sprang to my eyes. It was truly an experience having seen him play in one of the most famous venues in the world. Prior to Eddie coming out on stage, they played audio of an interview he must have done a number of years ago. In it, the interviewer asked Eddie what venues he would like to play in his lifetime. In it, he mentioned Madison Square Garden.

Well, he's done it. Well done, Eddie. Well done.

But, I have to say the moment that I think really proves to me that he's a superstar? At the end of his encore when a woman threw her panties on the stage.

Now THAT'S an "I've made it!" moment!

I would like some cheese with my grilled cheese, please!

I have to say, I seem to have drawn the short end of the stick lately when it comes to my food deliveries.

Like most New Yorkers, I don't cook nearly as much as I should. It's just difficult when there are so many choices and they ALL deliver! Plus, when it comes down to it, its not that much more expensive to order than when I cook. So, instead of standing in my miniscule kitchen at the end of a long day when all I want to do is lay on my bed and watch episodes of Glee, I order from Delivery.com and eat in the comfort of my room or living room.

I tend to order from the same places, and honestly I think I need to start to expand my horizons because all my regular places seem to be screwing me over lately!

I'm sorry, but how can you simply forget half my order? I've had drinks forgotten, side orders ignored, hell I've even had half my main course never make it to my door! Whenever this happens, I always stop and think for a moment... "Is it worth it for me to call and complain?" I mean, in the grand scheme of things most of the time the item that was forgotten is really only a dollar or so... Nine times out of ten, I always decide to call the restaurant and tell them because I did infact pay for that item, and therefore I am entitled to it!

I don't really understand where my bad food delivery karma comes from, but alas, I have it. I guess I just don't understand why so many mistakes are always made. I mean, I'm someone who believes that you should always do you absolute best at your job and if you can't do that, then you should move on. I mean, how hard is it really to read my order ticket and see that I ordered a Diet Coke? Not a Sprite. I'm sorry, but those are two VERY different things! You work in the service industry! It is your JOB to get the order right! My favorite is when they actually take offense to when you tell them they made a mistake! As if to say, "How DARE you say I did you wrong! You should be happy you got food at ALL!"

I do find some comfort in the fact that I'm not alone in this bad food karma-land. My friend Susan told me what I determine to be a classic... She once ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. What did she get?

Two pieces of TOAST.

She had to call the restaurant and tell them they forgot the cheese in her cheese sandwich!

At least my mistakes could easily be explained away with the "we forgot to put it in the bag" excuse.

Now that restaurant Susan ordered from has to worry about reading tests for their employees...

"What does this say?"

"Cheese."

"You're hired."

Til we meet in Glocca Morra...

This week marks the final week of performances of Finian's Rainbow. This show has been such a journey for me, and its coming to a bittersweet end.

I found the job after months of endless searching, and it was perfectly timed. It was to be my first Broadway show in a company management capacity.

Now, after months of pouring blood, sweat and tears (Quite literally, tears...) it is to perform its last performance this coming Sunday. I will be sad to see it go. I was fortunate enough to enjoy the show I was working on (which is not always the case in company management-land) and I do have to say I met some very awesome people along the way.

There were lessons learned and wisdom imparted.

Number were crunched and tickets sold.

Unfortunately, just not enough...

Now I have the next journey of my life awaiting me: Unemployment.

I've been on this adventure before and I know I'm in for a bumpy ride. I'm actually quite looking forward to have a bit of time off in the beginning. Lord knows I could use a break, and I'm looking forward to having *GASP* two days off in a row. It's the third, fourth, fifth, etc.... that I'm worried about! But honestly, I'm looking forward to getting some stuff done that I've been putting off. I'm going to visit my sister in California. I'm going to get to be in Trisha's wedding without worrying about how much time off I'm taking. I'm finally going to take down the fruit wallpaper trimming my bedroom and paint it to look like an adult lives there. Hell, I might even dust off my paper writing abilities and start working on my thesis. I know, I know... Let's see what actually gets accomplished! But, I have high hopes. I mean, I can't go into this situation assuming that I'm going to fail, right?

Of course, I would toss all of these plans aside in a SECOND if I were to be offered a job.

I think another reason I'm kind of going into this period of unemployment with a bit of a heavy heart is because of my impending birthday. I know, I know, its six months away... But it's a big one.

29.

The last official birthday in my 20s. It's starting to wig me out.

But, I'm sure there will be more on that subject later as the date rapidly approaches.

Honestly, I know everything is going to be okay. It's worked out before and it will work out again and almost always in a way that I never would have suspected.

I just need to remember to "Look to the Rainbow..."

Unhealthy Obsessions

So, I may or may not have a problem...

For my entire life I have always been someone who's easy to become obsessed. Luckily, I don't think this is the same as having an addictive personality. I'm not smoker, only drink socially and don't do drugs. My addictions are of a less harmful variety.

I'm talking about movies, books, actors, etc. Once a full blown obsession has started, they can last for a while. Some have only lasted a few months, while some have become a lifelong devotion.

I've decided to share these said obsessions with you, my devoted readers. (All two of you.)

My first and most recent obsession...

GLEE!

Are you shocked, really?

I remember when I first heard that Fox intended to make a show about a show shoir. Sabrina and I snickered via email over what a lame idea this was. I mean, it's show choir!

Then, we heard it was by Ryan Murphy, who created Nip/Tuck. Granted, I don't watch Nip/Tuck, but I've heard how brilliant it is. Okay, the idea was starting to sound better...

Casting announcements then started to make headlines. Broadway darlings were being cast in lead roles. Matthew Morrison as a lead on a TV show? Okay, that guaranteed a viewing of the Pilot episode at least.

Then, Fox released the trailer. Oh, this was going to be dangerous! Witty repartee? Spontaneously bursting into song? Oh dear, oh dear...

The moment I knew I was screwed?

Three words...

Don't. Stop. Believing.

DONE! Been obsessed ever since. The lyrics of Journey tugged at my heartstrings and my poor DVR hasn't forgiven me yet.

If you haven't seen it yet, give it a chance. The Golden Globes are this Sunday, and I have a feeling the show is going to be announced in at least once category. Ahem! Jane Lynch? I'm talking to you.

I am just worried about how I'm going to be able to handle the hiatus of new episodes until April. You've been warned. If I start to speak only in song lyrics, I apologize now.

I leave you with Sue Sylvester words of wisdom:

"You think this is hard? Try being waterboarded. THATS hard!"

Doesn't that just give you chills of greatness?

Thought so.

My wish has been granted!

There is a god, and he has answered my prayers!


The Golden Girls reruns are airing again in the morning!


Thank merciful Zeus! I thought I was going to have to start doing something responsible and normal, like watching the news or the Today Show.


Now THAT would have been a tragedy...

As Stephanie Tanner would say, "HOW RUDE!"

Yesterday, Jason and I went to see the movie, "Nine." For those who are my friends on facebook, you may know that I've been looking forward to this movie since I first saw the preview back in the spring. Yes, I had heard the "so-so" reviews and word of mouth, but I didn't care! Come hell or high water I was going to see Daniel Day-Lewis portray Guido Contini on the big screen!

We arrived just a few minutes before the previews were to begin. I was a little surprised when we arrived to discover that the theater was decently full. At least to the point where it was going to require us either asking people if seats were taken, or sitting in the dreaded first few rows. Because we were the ones who were late, we moved quickly and tried our best not to disturb anyone. We managed to find two seats in the back row in the corner. We arranged ourselves quickly, pulled our illegal candy from Duane Reade from our bags and sat back to enjoy the previews.

During the third or so preview, a group of three people rushed into the theater. The leader of the pack, a tall gangly man wearing a giant fur deerstalker hat proceeded to exclaim at the top of his lungs, "the theater is full!" or at least, I think that is what he said, as he said it in a different language. The rest of the group exclaimed their disbelief to his statement, quite loudly as well. Then, rather than attempting to disturb as few people as possible and take the obvious empty seats at the front of the theater, they proceeded to climb the steps and stand there looking for seats. I know, I just admitted myself that I hate sitting in the front few rows, however in the rare instance when I enter the theater late and its decently full, I suck it up and sit down there because it is, after all, my fault I'm late.

Now, by standing on the steps in what was a relatively small theater, they proceeded to block the view of the screen for the entire back corner of the theater. After much loud debate, they finally decided to take two seats and a seat directly behind it. These seats were in the two rows right in front of Jason and myself. Mind you, the one empty seat required Deerstalker Man to climb over the occupant in the seat on the aisle. I neglected to mention that they had obviously been shopping prior to the movie, because he had to climb over Aisle Seat Man with several quite large shopping bags.

After the three had sat down and proceed to settle themselves in, Deerstalker Man proceeded to yell over their shoulders for his Coca-Cola. "You have my Coca-Cola!" he yelled. They turned to tell him they didn't. He then had to go get himself another Coca-Cola, so he climbed back over the man in the aisle seat, stepped on one of his many shopping bags and almost fell down the stairs. He evidently REALLY needed a caffeine fix.

In the mean time, the movie has started. He returned with his gallon cup full of what I assumed to be his precious Coca-Cola about five minutes into the movie. He stopped to chat with his friends for a few minutes, evidently to tell him all about his trip to the concessions counter. Again, since him standing in the aisle proceeded to block the view of the entire back corner, I told him to "sit down." Granted, I could have been more polite and said "please" but I was already missing the first few minutes of the movie. I was promptly yelled at by the genteel woman of the group to "SHUT UP!" Ah, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

Deerstalker Man finally climbed back over Aisle Seat Man, stepped again on one of his shopping bags and finally settled down. I hoped this would be the last I would hear from my dear new friends for the rest of the movie. Boy, was I wrong...

Evidently Deerstalker Man also had a nicotine fix he needed to take care of, because about half way through the movie, he climbed BACK over Aisle Seat Man and (you guessed it!) stepped again on one of his shopping bags and vaulted down the stairs. I think he must have gotten lost on his way back, because during this time my new BFF answered her phone. I couldn't quite make out what she said, but I like to think it was directions back to Theater 10 for Deerstalker Man, because he made his return visit just a few minutes later. I don't have to tell you what happened when he stepped back over Aisle Seat Man. I know he went to smoke as when he sat down in his seat in front of me, the whiff of smoke billowing from his coat proceeded to give me a nicotine fix as well...

Amazingly enough, the rest of the movie went by without another peep from our new friends. However, when the movie was over I told Jason we were going to have to sit for a few minutes until they left because I couldn't be responsible for what I said if we ran into them again exiting the theater.

I don't understand this. I mean, they were most likely drunk or at least I hope so because nothing else could possibly explain their behavior. Nothing excuses it, but at least alcohol could explain it.

Why are so many people so unaware of how their actions affect others? Why is this such a hard concept to grasp? Unfortunately rudeness happens way more often than it should, and at least this occurrence has prompted what will now become a regular column in this blog...

Random Acts of Rudeness

It's a truth universally acknowledged...

A bit of explanation for the previous post...

This morning as I was getting ready, I was flipping channels since my morning routine has been torn asunder since The Hallmark Channel has ceased to show reruns of The Golden Girls. Dorothy, Blanche, Sophia and Rose used to be my companions as I put on my make up in the morning, but they have disappeared into the great void of syndication days past. Since I'm not a huge fan of Matt Lauer or Meredith Viera, I'm still in search of what will occupy my television screen from 8:30-9:30 every morning.

As I was channel flipping channels (or in the real equivalent, scrolling the program guide) I discovered that the film version of Sense and Sensibility was on. The Emma Thompson version. (You know, the one where we are supposed to believe that 40 year old Emma Thompson is a 19 year old? Yeah, that one...) Being the Austen-phile that I am, I of course changed the channel. Basically anytime anything Austen is on, that is where my channel lies...

As Alan Rickman was looking longingly for love in the young Kate Winslet and I was wanting to smack Kate Winslet for not loving him back, I started to get angry. Like, really angry. At a fictional character. Here is this amazing guy, and she can't even see him! I would KILL for a guy like that to come and moon over me.

Then, I wanted to smack myself.

Why?

BECAUSE THESE GUYS DON'T EXIST!

We girls have been living under the false assumption that there is actually a guy out there who is our Mr. Darcy, or Colonel Brandon. And its all Jane Austen's FAULT!

A Colin Firth look-a-like is not going to walk up to me in a dripping wet white shirt and sweep me off my feet! It's not going to happen.

Instead, we are faced with the sad reality that is dating in the 21st Century. There is no romance anymore. Subtlety is extinct. We face the quandry of whether or not a guy is going to text us, and are being given the answer "He's just not that into you..." We are forced to sign up for dating websites that are no better than a dirty bar, even though they advertise differently.

I guess the discovery that I have made is that:

It's a truth universally acknowledged that any single woman in possession of a copy of Pride and Prejudice is going to end up bitterly disappointed.

A letter to Ms. Austen

To you Ms. Jane Austen, a letter...

Dear Ms. Austen.

You fucked up my life.

Signed,

Maia