Welcome to .monday
meet-up., a brand new feature on this here blog. Why? Because I make it a
policy to only befriend interesting people; because my friends are awesome and you
should learn more about them; because, as much as I love writing about it, my
life is actually not that interesting.
Today you get to meet The Thespian (pronounced “Thessspiahn). She’s not really a
thespian – she’s a formally-trained theatre stage manager – but every time I
utter the word “thessssspian” she starts laughing, so I figured it’s a better
moniker than any.
The Thespian is my former co-worker, my office
partner-in-crime, my travel buddy on those long, long trips on the R to the
inner reaches of Brooklyn , my book-recommender
and crappy rom-com DVD lender. She owns sparkly blue Converse all-stars. She’s
usually got a stash of M&Ms, nuts and other candies in her desk drawer,
which I rifle through uninvited with zero abandon. She has really (really) odd taste in men. She hates
Olympia Dukakis with the fire of a thousand suns. She’s from Iowa, but won’t take me to the Iowa State
Fair. I don’t understand why. I spent the better half of the summer mad at her,
because she had the audacity to leave my department and go work for another
one, but then I forgave her once I realized she would continue to be available
for smoke breaks. And no, she doesn’t smoke. She just sits there and silently
judges me while inhaling second-hand smoke.
She’s up for anything that doesn’t involve us breaking the law, she’s
tough as nails, she doesn’t judge me for not really “getting” Shakespeare. She
can drink like a champ even though she knows she really shouldn’t. She once
convinced our entire staff that she was the boom mike operator on a porn movie.
She’s been a cheerleader, swimmer, sorority girl, and bouncer. Yeah, that’s
right. A bouncer. At a bar. She hates it when people make uninformed fashion choices.She's half-Irish and half-Italian, oh the drama.
- Favorite word: Fork
- Least favorite word: Cancer
- Creative/Spiritual/Emotional
turn-ons: Theatre
- Turns offs:
Being the middle man
- Favorite curse word:
F*ck
- Favorite sound or
noise: Fall leaves when a crisp breeze goes through them
- Most hated sound or
noise: High pitched annoying voices
- Alternative profession: Stand-up Comedian
- Profession she would
never consider: Doctor - too much blood and death
- What she would like
to hear God say when she arrives at the Pearly Gates? Your Mom is waiting for
you right over there.
- Favorite New Yorker,
living or dead, real or fictional: The Marx Brothers - Chico, Groucho, Harpo, Zeppo
- Best ever New York meal: Sardi's
Happy Hour - Vodka Martini with 3 olives with free cheese and crackers, pizza
squares, pretzals and peanuts. I know
not acuatly a meal but just the tough of sitting there haveing a drink with all
these theatre lovers makes me happy - and there is alway great conversation.
- What
she actually does all day at her job: Program work for an
international human rights group with a focus on public health.
- Money to panhandlers?:
Yes, but I prefer to give them food.
- Signature drink:
Jack Daniels
- How often she
prepares her own meals: If you count microwave meals as preparing my own
then 7 days week
- Favorite medication:
Food - M&M's mostly
- What's hanging above her
sofa: Sofa? - I don't own a sofa (It’s true – she only owns camp chairs)
- How much is too much
to spend on a haircut?: $30
- Bedtime: When I
am tired
- Mortal enemy: I don't want to call it out because I
don't need that kind of bad Karma
- Last time she drove a
car: July 2009
- Who should be the
next president?: Me of course. :)
- Where she goes to be
alone: Anywhere I want - I just put my headphone on and it's just me, my
music, and my thoughts
- Favorite book: The Eyre Affair (Jasper Fforde), I'm
with the Band (Pamela Des Barres)
- Last meal on earth
- Thick Chocolate milkshake, glass of lemonade, glass of unsweetened ice tea, a
slice of pizza with lots of meat and cheese, and a slice of Lemon meringue
pie.
She’s pretty cool - even though it's totally her fault I got hooked on the Twilight saga like some brain-dead, hormone-deranged fourteen year old. Not sure I'm ready to forgive her for that yet.
© Chommo, 2009.