Day 41: Brunch…the reason it’s ok to drink at 11am

Posted on February 13, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Jon Parker…sending good vibes your way)!

So, how about that President Obama and his speech huh? He’s really into education these days. Which brings me to a very important topic that I’d like to discuss tonight…

which is…

“How to have Brunch with your high school girlfriends while living 4 hours away?”

It’s the biggest question rocking the American Household right now (gun control who?), and I am here to show you how to conquer it.

All you need are:

1. Cellphone with camera (if your cellphone does not have a camera…you’re probably not a blog reader. You probably can’t even read!…Sorry grandma…I know you can read…yes I do remember that time you gave me a bath in a bucket in the backyard…maybe if you had a cellphone with a camera at the time we could post that photo right here to make this post more interesting…I know it’s not your fault…cellphones didn’t exist then…nor did sanitary buckets for washing babies).

2. A few props.

3. Jedi-girl-mind (I’ve never seen Star Wars but I have seen Spaceballs…and what I’m referring to is the ability to know what your highschool girl friends may or may not be chatting about over brunch…and being prepared for a Warner Bros. trademarked frog to rip through someones stomach for an adorable song and dance intermission…if you haven’t seen Spaceballs disregard that last part….and if you have seen Spaceballs, I may be completely wrong about the whole Warner Bros frog thing as I haven’t seen that movie in 25 years…yes I was 5 when I saw Spaceballs….I thought it was Star Wars until I was 13…when I got corrected about how gross Pizza-the-Hut was).

Anywho, here’s how it went…

“Hey girls! I’m so bummed I couldn’t make it to brunch, but I have to go sell my wares (shots) tonight.”

“Oh my God, you ran into Jason Amott* where?”

“I am so excited for Brittany’s wedding too!”

“Oh wait….sorry…I think that was Kelly’s save-the-date…hold on”

“I’m so excited for Brittany’s wedding too!! PS: What’s it like to have health insurance?”

“Oooo April, can I steal a frie?”

“You guys, this has been the best brunch ever. What’s that Brittany? Oh yes, I will need a plus one…no I’m not bringing anyone…I just want to be sure that you estimate the open bar consumption correctly…and some extra leg room…and yes I will lead the electric slide…duh!”

“Party Hearty, Rock’n’Roll,

Drink Bacardi, Smoke a Bowl,

Sex is good and life is fun,

We’re the class of 2001!”

What’s that Holly? Yes I did steal that poem from the class of ’98…and just changed the word “great” to the word “fun” for rhyming purposes… And no, we did not do any of the other things listed in that poem besides listen to Rock’n’Roll. I heart you Mom! Go lions!

Cheers!

“We’re gonna need a bigger coozie**…”

*Jason Amott is interchangeable with anyone that we went to school with that one of us may have run into at an Applebee’s or CheeseCake Factory.

Here’s a picture of Jason and some other high school friends, “Hey fella’s!”

“Gangs of Upper-class Maryland Suburbs.”

**Coozies are these beer holders that my friend Kelly and other Marylander’s are obsessed with. Go ahead, ask a Marylander to look in their purse and they will more than likely have one…and may more than likely call 911. Marylander’s don’t play.

To sign off, here is a pic of my BFF Kelly (who received and passed along all of these amazing pics to my other GF’s at brunch) at our high school graduation party…

This is when I wanted to be a dixie chic…not a lesbian…although I totes support the gay community. Go Obama!

*If any of you would like to subscribe to my blog to get alerted when I write new posts so that you don’t have to rely on Facebook or that batman like shadow that I post in the sky, please do. I think there’s a ‘subscribe’ button somewhere.*

Day 38: I meditated the s*it out of her…

Posted on February 10, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Devon Goffman)!

You know how sometimes you don’t hear about a particular thing for a really long time, and all of a sudden 17 people you know mention that particular thing to you? Like last month it was Ithaca brewing companies (Goose Island is pretty damn good), and sometime last year it was Banana Grams (which is basically Scrabble*…but instead of having a board to play on, you have a banana shaped sack (giggle) and use jargon like “split” and “peel” when you make a move). Well, this past month the word I keep hearing over and over again is meditation. All of my self help books (youtube videos) are mentioning the amazing benefits from it, it seems that like half of my friends are doing it, and I swear a feral cat was chanting “OHMMMM…” at me as I was walking down an abandoned ally last week (I’m lying, it was 96th street, and the cat may have been a large piece of steel wool). And funny enough, a friend that I haven’t seen in a while posted an event invitation for a free talk about meditation. I figured, with my whole Vision Board and P-gan thing I’m already halfway on the tree-hugger train (although I’m sure they wouldn’t use a train…probably a covered wagon…but pulled by a white guy named Leon…they wouldn’t want to upset any horses by making them work…even though that’s what horses are for…if they weren’t working they’d probably be glue-factorying…did I mention that I won a Blue Ribbon in Pony Club?), so I figured I’d stop by my friend Shannon O’bryan’s talk and see what this whole meditation thing was about.

Side note: I’m not the kind of person that gets talked into things very easily. I’m just like all of you other cold hearted New Yorkers who pretend that you don’t speak English when a person on the sidewalk in a blue polo shirt and 3 ring binder asks you if you have a minute for planned parenthood. Don’t even try to tempt me to join your “new data plan” verizon wireless, because no, I don’t need a “free gift” of 500 extra anytime minutes to use when I only use 47 minutes of actual phone calls as is. And NO, Wholefoods, I don’t care if tumeric juice is the new beverage that’s going to ward off cancer, is a natural endorphin booster and tastes delicious…ok, I’ll buy it. But NOT because you talked me into it…but because I don’t want cancer…and it’s tasty…and the guy that talked me into buying it was kind of cute and not wearing a wedding ring. So, I went into my “Intro to meditation chat” and just like with turmeric juice…I got sucked in.

Benefits of Meditation

1. Lowers stress.

2. Improves health.

3. Helps focus the mind.

4. Gives you something to talk about when people start discussing earthy tree-hugging s*it like beard growing and tumeric-juice when you’re in a far off land known as Brooklyn.

So I signed up for a 4 day meditation class…that I couldn’t afford…but was sure that the Universe was going to send me the funds some how…

Day 1 of Meditation class: Shannon performs a lovely ceremony about thanking all of the teachers that came before her.

We learn the basics of meditation and are instructed to meditate later that evening and again in the morning before coming to Day 2.

Day 2 of Meditation Class: 3am

My dog Ruby jumps off the bed and starts scratching at the door. There is a terrible smell. Ruby has shat all over my bed. I throw on some clothes and take her down the hall only to find…

I pick up my sh*tting dog, scramble down 6 flights of stairs to take her out, thinking how could this day get any worse…and just like it always does when you think things like “how could this day get any worse” it does. Because it is snowing…and your dog won’t stop leaking…in Central Park at 3 am… which is exactly when and where the murderers and hobos hang out…and you remember that the elevator is out and you have to carry your leaky dog up 6 flights of stairs. 2 hours later I texted my meditation coach that I couldn’t come to Day 2 of Meditation class because my dog was now puking and s*itting which made her lighter to carry up and down 6 flights of stairs but was really inconvenient otherwise.

Day 3 of Meditation Class: Poor poor Ruby Pubey

Ruby is leaking every 2 hours today and is being fed water through an eye dropper because she won’t drink it herself. Any normal person would take their dog to the vet under these circumstances, but I am not a normal person. I am poor out of work actor, freelance shot seller, and vision board enthusiast who believes that money is coming her way…just apparently not today. So we give it another 24 hours to see if the leaking stops. I text my meditation coach that I will not be able to make it to class until my dog stops peeing out of her but hole. Namaste.

Day 4 of Meditation Class: Stool sample.

So now we’ve had 4 days of bodily fluids pouring out of my adorable little dog and only 20 minutes of meditation….I’m lying. I only really meditated for 3 minutes because it’s really hard to concentrate when you’re worried that your dog is going to die by way of organs coming out of her butt hole because someone told you that that had happened to their Uncle’s dog one time. I call my meditation coach again and she says “F*ck you Sarah! You think Ghandi quit meditating over a little fecal matter?! You’re never going to be a meditator and your life is going to be stupid! What’s that? I put the “h” in the wrong place in Gandhi’s name. What are you, the spiritual-leader-spell-check-police?! I hope your dog s*its out it’s organs like that girls Uncle’s dog did that one time! Go f*ck yourself!” (she did not say any of that…she told me I could just come to class next week).

Back to Ruby…. so my roommate Abby suggests that I call her cousin who is a vet in Boston. He says that since the Rubinator (that’s what I call her sometimes. I think it’s clever. Sometimes I call her Rubinator pie…and if she’s being bad, Rubinator pie-hole…I’m never going to get married…) hadn’t thrown up since early that morning and now had enough energy to bark at my other roommate John as he vacuumed the hallway that I could just take a stool sample into the vet to make sure she hadn’t contracted a parasite. Unfortunately in order to get the sample and get to the vet I had to take the night off work. Which is totally fine because The Secret says I just have to believe that money is on it’s way and I will be rich…right?

Yep, that’s poop. You’re welcome.

Day 5: Ruby is feeling much better and is really into boiled chicken and rice mixed with cottage cheese. I will attend Days 2-4 of Meditation class next week and let you know how it goes. Who knows..maybe I can start writing this blog via my mind instead of this computer…which I’m still paying off…so I might as well just type it and let my enlightened mind do other useful stuff…like laundry and that vagina dance move that Beyonce did at the Superbowl. Namaste.

*Scrabble is what us old people call Words with Friends.

Day 36: 33 is half of 66…incase you’re an idiot.

Posted on February 6, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

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Day 36: 33 is half of 66…incase you’re an idiot.

Posted on February 5, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Bob Richard)!

So, today is the halfway point of starting the new habit that is “NO dairy and NO Coke Zero.”

It’s been 33 days since I gave up both, and research has shown that it takes 66 days to kick a habit or start a new one. Which is pretty convenient given the name of my blog (which is a relief because I had no idea what I was going to do with this whole 66-days-till-the-end-of-the-world-but-then-the-end-of-the-world-didin’t-happen-so-what-the-eff-is-my-blog-going-to-be-about-now-?-thing…plus I don’t have any money to buy a new domain name…nor am I creative enough to think another one up). So today is the check in point of how my life is as an Aspartameless P-gan….

What’s a P-gan? It’s a Pescetarian Vegan/a word I completely made up. What’s a Pescetarian you say? A really hot chick that doesn’t eat meat but still eats seafood. What’s a vegan? A really hot chick that doesn’t eat any animals or products produced by animals. In conclusion, a P-gan is a really hot chick who doesn’t eat meat, still eats seafood, but doesn’t eat any dairy products, and is really hot. Oh, I already mentioned really hot? Well, it just needed to be mentioned again for all of you hot single guys that read my blog (there are no hot single guys that read my blog…well maybe they do…until I start talking about my diet…and farts…I won’t talk about farts…girls don’t fart…well some do…the really mean ones fart all of the time…I’m not mean) and might be weirded out by a girl that you can’t take out for a burger even though she will gladly drink beer and eat french fries while you chomp on your rotting animal carcass so why don’t you just go ahead and ask me out already?

Pro’s about being a P-gan and quitting Aspartame

1. Your farts are nicer (as opposed to mean farts…don’t pretend you don’t know what a mean fart is…it’s exactly what you think it is…that’s the last time I talk about farts…how am I still single?).

2. You have more energy and need less sleep at night.

3. You’re skin is clearer.

4. You’re generally happier (not that you were depressed before, but for some reason you are super happy most of the time now…probably because of the nicer farts).

5. You get to explain what a P-gan is to people who seem really surprised that it has nothing to do with penises.

Cons about being a P-gan and quitting Aspartame

1. You gained a pound (which I’m sure has nothing to do with not working out and drinking beer instead…and remember that time when you said you were going to do 100 crunches a day? Yeah, well that only worked for 2 days fat ass…get your sh*it together…you’ve got 3 weddings to go to this year…by yourself…so it’ time to stop being polite and start getting real…this is the real world…Upper-upper-upper Westside).

2. People are disappointed that the word P-gan has nothing to do with penises.

Now, to be fair, I have to admit that I’m only about 90% P-gan as I did eat crawfish chowder 2 weeks ago and I’m pretty sure there was some butter in the mussels I ordered last night. And I guess I’m only 85% Aspartameless too because I’ve still been chewing some spearmint Orbit gum which I’m pretty sure has aspartame in it, but I haven’t found any gum that hasn’t. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m a complete fraud and you shouldn’t listen to anything I have to say and that all of my lying is probably the reason that I gained a pound. But I swear I haven’t had a diet soda since January 3rd, which was my 30th birthday, which was 33 days ago. Oh, and I may not be as hot as I previously mentioned…

Day 33: Punxsutawney Philly

Posted on February 2, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Drew Humphrey)!

In honor of Groundhog’s day (the movie…not the actual day) I’ve decided to repeat a day over in order to mark another item off of my bucket list before the world ends (this blog originally started 66 days before the end of the world, December 21st….silly Mayans…and was about getting everything I’ve always wanted to do done before we were taken over by space zombies). I have decided to go back in time (I did not go back in time) and repeat November 15th 2012 (not really) to do a quite amazing thing that I’ve never been able to do before…

I got a free soup at Hale and Hearty by using my frequent customer punch card thing!

This may not seem like a big deal to some of you highly organized (you don’t lose these punch cards when you have say 8 of the 10 punches punched out) or super wealthy (you can afford 11 full priced soups) people out there, but it is to me. I’ve been dreaming of the day that I could walk up to this stoic (and slightly annoyed) soup lady and say, “I’ve filled my punch card! May I please have my free soup! Hold on. I think I have enough punches. Wait. Just let me find it. I know it’s here somewhere. I left it right next to my Regal Cinema’s rewards card. You can get free candy on Tuesdays with it. Whoops. No. That was a subway card…the restaurant…not the mode of transportation that is highly inefficient on weekends and holidays…and Mondays-Fridays after 9pm…and when you’re running really late to work and all that’s running are stupid express trains….Oh crap, my subway card is expired. Do your punch cards expire here? They do? Dang. I hope mine isn’t expired. Give me just a second. Nicole, would you hold this? No it’s just an empty case. There’s no gum in there. Remind me to get some gum on the way home. No, spearmint starts to taste like an old stale gin and tonic after a while. I like the sweet mint, yeah it’s kind of like you’re chewing on some mint chocolate chip ice cream. Yeah, I’m still off dairy. No, I don’t miss it too much. I fart less. Ahhh! Here it is Miss. One free soup! Thank you so much for your patience. I really mean it from the bottom of my Hearty! Get it? Because you work at Hale and Hearty? It’s a play on words. Ok, yes I’ll keep moving. Jeez, you really should get a sense of humor. Nope, there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hale that you are going to find me amusing, huh? Have a nice day.”

It was great day spent with a medium sized (now that I think of it, I’m an idiot. Who doesn’t get the large size soup when it’s FREE?! Stupid Sarah) 3 lentil chili soup, and my awesome friend Nicole Mangi! Nicole recently moved with her husband out to LA and was in town for a visit before she headed to New Orleans for the big Power Ball game tomorrow (where her husband is the set designer for ESPN…I think) Nicole and I have known each other since Gypsy on Broadway (did I mention I was on Broadway? Oh, I did? Quite a few times? It’s getting old? It sounds like I’m bragging? I played on a softball league with Patti LuPone’s son. Ok, I’ll stop).

(Broadway)

Yes, we started the trend of teenie-tiny hats.

We had an amazing conversation about life, the business of show (a fancy way of saying ‘showbiz’ if you didn’t catch that. If you didn’t catch that you should probably go and hang out at Hale and Hearty on 55th and 8th. You’ve got a friend behind the counter) and life after 30. It’s really comforting to know that you’re not crazy and that other people are facing challenges with moving onto different avenues of life. And also really comforting that someone else has my same affinity for soup on a cold day…

Even though this post was meant to happen before the end of the world (which didn’t happen….clearly….or else it did and I’m in a weird Truman Show sociological experiment…I’ll know for sure if I run into that guy that played Biff in the Back to the Future movies today….cause he was in the Truman Show… which is a movie…starring Jim Carrey….rent it…I digress…again), I had another great day of pointing my life in the right direction by hanging out with an amazing friend…who promised she would become a subscriber to my blog. You guys out there should probably subscribe too. Or else you may miss one of my life changing events here. Like earning a free soup.

Big shout out to Nicole Mangi, the soup lady, and the Baltimore Ravens. Let’s kick some Wild Cat ASS tomorrow!! What’s that? They’re not playing the Wild Cats? Who are the Wild Cats anyway? Oh, they’re from High School Musical aren’t they. Oh well. Let’s give it up for Zac Efron…

Day 31: I take two steps forward and pas de bourre back..

Posted on January 31, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Tree Sarvay)!

As most of you know, I’ve been a dancing since I was 5, and then got paid to dance by age 21…

Just kidding! This is actually a picture from one of my first paid gigs. And yes, I am dressed as laundry detergent. This is what happens in musical theatre…just go with it.

I’m in this weird place where I do still love to dance, but am pretty sure that I want to pursue other things in life. I’m ready to explore the other crap that I’m into. I really like comedy, and writing, and improv, and possibly producing, and drinking wine, and throwing Christmas/Oktoberfest/Toga parties, but haven’t picked a direction to go in for my new career. While I’m still working on that, I have missed dancing and the way my body looks and feels as a dancer (just look at that picture…no not the one of me…the one of those 2 Daddy-left-them-when-they-were-7-plus-30-year-old-metabolism-and-gravity-hasn’t-hit-them-yet-pole-dancers, they’re hot!). As you all know, I’ve started taking ballet class on Saturday afternoons, which is making me totally happy (and given Duane Reade a rapid spike in Aleve, IcyHot, and Sierra Nevada sales), but I have been missing good old fashioned jazz class. Which is why when my roommates suggested we all take Intermediate/Advanced theatre jazz class taught by none other than the Randy Skinner, I said OK.

All you need to know about Randy Skinner

1. He’s a badass old school “song and dance” choreographer (think Fred Astaire’s twin…or son…I’m not really sure how old Randy is…so maybe he’s more like if Gene Kelly* and Fred Astaire* got legally married and had a son…via surrogate Shirley Temple*…after she turned 18 because no one wants to be accused of “date-surrogate-rape”…that baby would be Randy Skinner).

2. He choreographed a bunch of musicals including White Christmas, which I performed in the holiday seasons of 05′, 06′, and 07′. Side note: he has not hired me since which I don’t hold against him. I’m sure it was just some mix-up with casting…or they finally found that box of props I drew penises on.

3. Any time Randy teaches a class in New York City, 400 people show up and 399 of them are there in the hopes to get hired by him…

and this was the component that made me a little weary taking class. I haven’t seen a lot of these people in the last 6 months and I was apprehensive about two things. One being that I would have to explain that the reason I haven’t seen them was that I was basically quitting business, and the second being that I haven’t really danced (besides my 2 old lady ballet classes) since June, and was worried that I was going to suck a big bag of balls in front of everyone….

This is my apprehension face.

Luckily by time class started I got over myself.

No one took offense to me taking a break from the business. Everyone was really supportive (plus, there’s one less 5’4” blonde alto tap dancer in the audition pool, so you’re welcome ladies). And I finally remembered this key element of life: people are always way more concerned about what they’re doing than what you’re doing. I’m living proof! Right now, I’m sitting here writing a blog all about me! If I wanted, I could give the play-by-play about the pimple on my forehead right now (tried to pop it last night but only a little came out…hopefully tonight will be a mirror splattering adventure). That’s not to say that we are self centered s*it-heads and don’t care about other people. We do (otherwise why would the 4 of you be reading this post anyway…and why do I keep following other peoples blogs about the art of cat sweaters? And duh, FACEBOOK! The place where you can stalk anyone you want! Even though we only tag pictures of ourselves where we look good, regardless of if our friend has a muffin top or is passed out in a pool of their own vomit). I just need to keep in mind for myself, that just because I do things like take a dance class, it doesn’t mean that all 399 people in the room are wondering weather or not I’ve still got it (I totally still got it).

So, to keep bettering my life (spellcheck didn’t correct bettering so I’m going to go with it as being a real word), I’m going to still take class, and see my theatre friends, and stop worrying about whether people are judging me and especially stop judging myself for whatever I plan on doing next. Even if it is to become a transgendered hobo (it’s not to become a transgendered hobo).

Great class ladies!

F me! This is gonna hurt tomorrow.

*If you don’t know who any of these people are, please jump on a mini trampoline for 37 minutes, and immediately drink an entire bottle of tabasco sauce…the green one. Good, now you’ve learned your lesson.

Day 29: I’m blue daba de daba “Hi guys”!

Posted on January 30, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Nikki Della Penta)!

Sorry I’ve been absent for a few days. I know! You all want to find out what life is like after the ballet class that I wrote about in my last post. This post isn’t about that, but I can give you “just the tip” of what life feels like after ballet class: pain, suffering, happiness, fulfillment, a few depressing body issues, and thirst…for a beer (to dullen the pain of body issues…which probably worsens the body issues because instead of opting for a light beer that tastes like a mixture of donkey pee and deceit or even a glass of I don’t know…water…you have chosen to pick an IPA that has at least a 6% alcohol content and tastes like a mixture of denial and that carpenter from 2007…no I don’t have a problem…so stop asking…). Now let’s move on. My bedroom/office renovation is in full swing…and is taking FOREVER.

Last week, Abby and I headed to Home Depot on 23rd street to buy some paint. As I have previously mentioned on Day 12: The Vision Board (you haven’t read that post?! Usually this is the part where I get angry at you and say that you’re never going to become an adoring fan that way, but I’m now realizing that I probably shouldn’t scold the 14 readers I have and just update you that on Day 12: The Vision Board….I created a vision board) I decided to remodel my bedroom after Carrie Bradshaw’s bedroom in the Sex and the City movie. (yes, the first one…duh). I was lead to this decision by a few variables.

Reasons I’m painting my room Blue

1. My friend Rebecca entered my birthday into some sort of Chinese website and found that water was my best element, (and Dog is my animal…who knew? That guy that I let get to 3rd base in the bathroom of a PF Chang’s said I was such a boar…get it? Play on words? Boar and bore…they’re not all good.) so blue would be a good choice.

2. I think the color blue is pretty.

and

3. Carrie Bradshaw made-over her life after moving on from Mr. Big, and I’m conducting a makeover on myself after moving on from (hopefully) the rat race of career choices that are no longer fulfilling my life. Plus, Carrie presumably gets paid a ton of money to write about her life which sounds pretty awesome to me. What? Carrie Bradshaw is a fictional character played by Sarah Jessica Parker and could not have possibly made enough money writing a weekly column to have her own studio apartment and dress like a Russian debutant hooker? Well, theoretical voice, on my Vision Board she can and does…and that’s all it takes for the power of positive thinking. So BLAM! Back to painting my room blue…

Here’s Carrie B’s room…

So, as I was saying, Abby and I headed down to Home Depot on 23rd street (which sadly didn’t have a hotdog stand in front of it like they do in my hometown…I know, I don’t eat meat. I can still enjoy the ambiance of a hotdog stand) and picked up some paint.

This is the color of my future…The Isle of Carpri….

I know what you’re thinking ladies and the answer is YES! I did give Gary the paint guy/photo bomber my phone number. Sometimes you gotta play to win (I did not give that dude my number and his name is not Gary (probably)).

Unfortunately, I have not budgeted my time wisely with this whole “paint your room like Carrie’s so you can quit your day job and become a famous millionaire by writing about seemingly sassy (man hunting) and a tad bit boring (trip to home depot) adventures.” Cause, before you paint, you have to do a lot of s*it like clean behind all of your furniture that you haven’t cleaned behind since you moved into the apartment 6 years ago. Dang!

Let’s get started.

Not too bad, not too bad. Just a few pennies, 14 bobby pins, my dignity and some big ass dust bunnies…

Pretty gross, huh? Now, if I were a boring person, I would just toss this in the trash and go about cleaning. As you can tell, I’m not a boring person. I’m a super creative as well as highly sophisticated person. After returning from the arts and crafts table, I turned our little friend here into…

Our little friend here!

Readers, I’d like you to meet the newest member of the SixtySixdaysofSarah team, Dusty!!!

I thought Flat Pam and Flat Sarah could use a friend. (Flat Pam and Flat Sarah are a children’s project that I’m working on where I taker her on adventures (grave robbing) around NYC.

Time to meet your new BFF girls!

Awwwwww…you guys look great together. Now that Dusty is out from behind the dresser, let’s paint this mofo.

The first stroke!

3 days later…

I’m still painting this stupid stupid room and it feels like I’m reading that last book by Dan Brown. Where it takes forever to finish and the ending blows and you wish that you had gone out for 14 brunches instead because that’s how long it took to read (and I’m talking those all you can drink brunches where you pay $23 and have an omlet and 19 bloody mary’s and take up the table for 4 hours and then the server hates you, but then likes you again after you tell him how you’re so surprised that he didn’t book that job at that audition you were both at because his pirouettes were fierce….those kind of brunches). Painting was becoming uber frustrating. Especially when I went to paint the top corner of my closet…

I mean I know the paint brush should go with the grain of the wood but what happens at the dang corner?! Do I go horizontal the whole way?! Or vertical!? Or try to go diagonal at that diagonal line?! And why the Hell did I get painting tape the same color as my paint?! And why didn’t you turn the radiator off before you got on the ladder that’s directly above the radiator?! How stupid can you be Sarah?! You’ll never be like Carrie Bradshaw! She probably hired painters to do it for her so she could go out and teach Jennifer Hudson life lessons about love (and possibly suggest that she join Weight Watchers so that one day she could look like a Somalian orphan…am I right? She’s mad skinny now…it’s like I expect to see her in a hut made of clay with a fly landing directly on her eyeball at the exact moment that the camera pans to her to get you to pay 9 cents a day…too far? I’m just saying she’s skinny is all…I digress). I was getting so worried that I was going to destroy my new bedroom/office that I almost gave up. But then I felt a little tap on my shoulder and turned around…

Thank you Dusty. You’re so right. Worry is the prayer for chaos in our lives! I shall worry no more Dusty. It will all be ok. Hey Dusty, how did you come up with that quote when I only created you 23 minutes ago from the dust bunnies behind my dresser? I guess we can talk about it when I tuck you in tonight.

And with that… I have completed 2 whole walls in my room.

See you guys on day 192 when my room is completed.

Fictional character Carrie Bradshaw…here I come!

PS: Special shout out to friend Rebecca the self proclaimed “Paint Nazi” for helping me out!

She’s allowed to say paint nazi because she’s half jewish. And toured with the musical Cabaret.

Day: Wanna come hang with my passé?

Posted on January 26, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Mindy Dougherty Baida)!

So, you remember that day (Day 15: Ballet (the “T” is silent) specifically…you didn’t read day 15? You’re never going to become an adoring fan with that attitude…and if you’re not an adoring fan then what are you? Just a blog reader with no recognition…that’s like a barber hangin’ out with a bunch of bald guys…is it though Sarah?…that’s the best comparison you can come up with?…how about a hemorrhoid with no preparation H?…or better yet a hemorrhoid with no butt hole?…PS: you should probably stop talking about hemorrhoids…it makes people uncomfortable…now back to the story about the good thing you did to feel good about your life) that I got all ready to take ballet class and then the train was late (I spent too much time having my roommate take pictures of me) and I didn’t make it to class? Well, this time…

I finally made it to ballet class!

My friend Aleka told me about this ballet class that she takes on Saturday afternoons. Her pitch was “It’s a bunch of 70 year old women and me.” Which (sadly) was exactly what I was looking for (because although the rest of my body is at the ripe young age of 30, my right knee is circling the drain at the age of 105, so when you average it out, a geriatric ballet class plus 2 mimosas was the perfect decision).

Before class started…

After petite allegro (small, quick jumps that remind you that you probably should have taken a poop before class started…stop talking about poop…it’s making people think about hemorrhoids)…

After class (after a pitt stop at Duane Reade where you picked up an icepack….and a six-pack).

Moral of the story: You’re old and your body hates you. Going to they gym all of the time (once a week) is not going to give you your dancer body back and ballet actually makes you happy and happiness is what we’re going for right now. So, go to class more you fat f*ck.

See you next week Aleka (notice the under-boob-sweat. You’re welcome)!

Day 22: Yo, your Malm is so fat…

Posted on January 23, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Cathy Church)!

In order to better my 30 year old adult life, I have started organizing. My roommates have advised me that it is no longer kosher for me to use the living room as my office space, and that I’m probably not allowed to use the word kosher as it may or may not be racist. So, it’s time to set up my bedroom as a home office. The first step was to de-clutter my bedroom which I started on Day 18: Everyday I’m shufflin’ (what’s that? You didn’t read Day 18? Well fine, I don’t care what you did on Day 18 of turning your life around either…unless it was really good…oooohhh, did you do something really cool on Day 18? Did you meet Tina Fey? You did?! I hate you….whoever you are…which I’m pretty sure is just a manifestation of my mind…what were we talking about? Oh, right…I de-cluttered) my apartment last week, and yesterday my roomies and I took a huge hall to the salvation army…

That’s my tax write off receipt. Can’t wait for June 27th (that’s when I do my taxes…what?). Then the roomies and I rented a Zip Car and headed out to good ole’ New Jersey (aka “the armpit of America”) to go to…

As most of you (especially New Yorkers) I’m sure know, Ikea is the most amazing place on earth. You can get a bed, shower curtain, or 10 thousand tea lights for like $4.99! I had been excited about this trip all week but when the day finally came, I found myself super anxious and in a terrible mood. After ruling out PMS (which will be in another 2 weeks…mark your calendars) I realized that this almost always happens to me when going on big shopping trips with other people. I’m always fine when I go shopping by myself but for some reason group shopping always makes me want to reach for the xanax (don’t worry, I didn’t pop any pills Mom…jeesh). Instead of just rolling with the bad mood as I usually do, I took a look back into little Sarah’s life and found exactly where the anxiety stems from. As most of you know I’ve been dancing since the age of 5. By the time I hit Middle School I started traveling with the other girls from my studio to dance competitions (did you all know that this blog was written by the former “Miss. Dance of the Mid-Atlantic, 2000”? Which means I was the best girl out of a dozen girls between the ages of 15 and 17 one time. Jealous?). Every November we would go to this competition in Williamsburg VA which was located near a ton of Outlets (shopping not electrical…although there were plenty of electrical outlets too…how else could I plug in my Crimper). Mind you this was way before my “Miss. Dance” title. I was in middle school at the time and these were the days of name brand everything. If you didn’t own Guess Jeans, an oversized Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt and Starter Jacket (throw in a teal pager if you’re a badass…well, less of a badass if the only one that pages you is your mom) you were not one of the cool kids. Our family didn’t have as much money as the other girls and I knew it, but my mother (god bless her) still took me out shopping with my friends and their Moms, made me try on the $60 jeans with the other girls, and bought them even though I tried to stop her by assuring her that I would grow out of them before the year was over (as I knew we couldn’t afford it…plus back then I had dreams of being a tall buxom bombshell…which were squashed after realizing that with a mother of 5’6” and a father of 5’3” the odds were against me). I’m not telling this story for anyone to feel bad for me because we weren’t dirt poor or anything dramatic ( I did after all have a teal pager) but in reaching my goal of becoming a better person I think it’s important to recognize why we get in bad moods or anxious at times for seemingly no reason. I have the most amazing parents who never let my brother and I live without, but somehow I can’t shake the feeling of not having enough money when I’m out shopping with other people, even my dear friends. Anybody else out there feel that way? The truth is, I’m doing ok enough with my finances to spend money on things that will improve my life or even things that won’t (like when I spent $6 renting Bachelorette OnDemand…it sucked), I just have a hard time not feeling guilty about it. So you know what? I’m working on that s*it. I’m going to stop worrying about my money because “Worry is a prayer for Chaos in our lives”…which I just stole from this awesome spiritual coach…

Gabrielle Bernstein!

I know, barf if you want to, but I think she’s super cool. I’ve never actually met her, but she has a bunch of youtube videos if anyone is interested at Spirit Junkie TV. If not, just maybe watch some porn. That puts me in a good mood too…just kidding…kind of. So now that I’ve self therapized myself and gotten rid of my bad shopping juju (I hear people say “bad juju” all of the time and wanted to make sure I was using it in the right context so I looked it up on urbandictionary.com

1.	bad juju
	Haunted by a bad vibe or aura. Can be used as a noun or an adjective. Now that place had some bad juju.In answer to a question about what someone thought of a person place or thing one could answer, “bad juju”.
2.	Bad JuJu
	A Person Who Sleeps Around So Much That They Must Have Several STDs. Damn, I Must Have Saw That Girl With Four Different Guys At That Party, I Wouldn’t Mess Around With That, She’s Bad JuJu!

…I’m going to go ahead and vote that I’m using the first definition for this circumstance. Stand by for me spending the rest of my life trying to be the girl that they’re talking about in the second).

Back to Ikea! Here we are having dinner. Because you can have dinner at Ikea…’nough said.

I bought some sheets, organizational shelves, and curtains. Side note: This was Abby’s first time at IKEA! Can you believe it? What did she use to furnish her college apartment? Milk cartons, blow up furniture, and Nurtra-Grain bars???? She got a little overwhelmed when we got to the Ikea Self Serve Warehouse…

This is her classic W-O-W face.

How to make the Abby WOW face: Hold 3 fingers up next to each side of your face, and make an “O” with your mouth…what will these kids think of next?

Things were going well until we found that a piece Abby had written down from the show room was mislabeled. I don’t remember what it was…but it’s description had 2 umlauts and 3 swedish meatballs.

So she and John went to find the missing piece (awww….remember that Shel Silverstein book The Missing Piece? I loved that book. There was a poem about a little girl who told her parents that if they didn’t buy her a pony she would die…and then she died because her parents wouldn’t buy her a pony. Come to think of it, that is a terrible poem to put in a children’s book…and may have something to do with my anxieties about money and my parents*)

So while they were gone, I waited…

Finally everything was hunky dory and we made a pit stop at the bathroom before leaving…

Did youse guys know that public bathroom toilet seat covers are as good as using those fancy “oil blotting” papers when it comes to de-shining your face? I’m not a hobo, it’s totally true…I read it in Cosmo.

Alright. Now let’s load this s*it into our Zip Car. Abby, could please hurry up. It’s cold outside and we left our coats in the car…No Abby, you have to round the corners…get away from that giant inconvenient cement pillar.

Ok guys. Now where’s the car? I swear we parked it right outside of Ikea…Oh, crap…we’ve been in New York City for way too long…

After John ran around for 20 minutes clicking the panic button, we finally found the car. Then comes the part where you have to play the “Jenga for your Life” game by figuring out how to arrange an 8ft bookshelf, 5ft dresser, 47cm Muster und Drucke mit Vergangenheit, 2 sets of 144 thread count sheets, and 20 tubes of crab spread…yes, Ikea has crab spread.

You guys are doing a great job…

No seriously, you guys are doing a great job…I swear…no, I can see better from here. Keep it up!

Tadaa!

So ends our trip to IKEA. I’ve learned a lot of life lessons today, the most important one being to remember where you parked your rental car…especially when you opt to leave your coats in said car after the temperature has dropped to 8 degrees. Goodbye New Jersey! See you when we’re in prison!

*the poem is titled A Little Girl Named Abigail and the Beautiful Pony…not from the book The Missing Piece, but the other totally good book A Light in the Attic.

Day 21: Are you ready for some futbol?!

Posted on January 22, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Mindy Cowan)!

This post is dedicated to all of my male readers. I realize that you probably haven’t been entertained too much by my last few posts about trying to lose weight, going to ballet class, and do-it-yourself-pap-smears, so today I’m going to write specifically with you fellas in mind as I give you…

the play-by-play of yesterday’s Football games!

The day started out as any other game day that I’m sure you gentleman viewers have gone through with the “picking out of the cute outfit.” Joining me for the games (among others) were my 2 amazeball neighbors that have recently moved to New York from San Franciso, so I was forced by association to be a 49-ers fan for game one. I myself am from Baltimore (well, right outside of Baltimore… in the suburbs… I really can’t give you much more than that as one of you I’m sure would like to find out exactly where I was born so that you could use that information to steal my identity…and not in a cute way like that movie that’s about to come out with that hilarious woman from bridesmaids and that guy from Juno…and I think maybe someone said he was in Arrested Development, which I’ve never seen…and then people get mad because apparently it is the type of show that I would love…in conclusion, I’m from outside of Baltimore, and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t steal my identity) so I am by my birthright forced to root for the Ravens (I don’t think that’s what birthright means).

Here right now is a complete breakdown of the playoffs..

As I do not own any NBA gear to support either team, I decided to do some arts and crafts to create some fabulous headgear (a hat…not a retainer attached to a nylon head piece).

No, that’s not a beer on the table(jeesh, Mom…) it’s balsamic vinegar which I used on my breakfast ‘vegan hoppin salad’ (yep, I’m still on the whole vegan thing…it’s working out really well…my skin is clearer and I’m having a lighter menstrual cycle…wait…this is the post to reel in some male viewers…substitute the word ‘vegan’ with ‘getting fingered in a cab’ and ‘menstrual cycle’ with ‘aversion to roofies’).

Step 1 to making an awesome football match outfit…

Find a trucker hat that you have lying around your apartment (that your roommates voted you get rid of…who’s a hoarder now?!)

Step 2…use some tape to attach the picture that you’ve drawn to said trucker hat…

Step 3…there is no step 3. You’re a 49-ers fan now!

I do believe that I’m the Martha Stewart of do-it-yourself-millinery (that’s a fancy word for hat making…that I just looked up…so I could sound fancy… substitute ‘fancy’ with ‘like I have Daddy issues’.

Now, I know some of you guys out there like to do this thing called “tail gating” before a game, but as we are New Yorkers and don’t have cars (or parking lots) we…

go to brunch!

Ok, you guys are not helping me get male viewers…straight male viewers…probably even gay for that matter. Yes, I know that hurricane’s are delicious…wait, they’re only 5 bucks? Oh Abby you should totally get one….yeah, get one and then take a picture with Bridget and I where we are smiling and you are making a sexy face…yeah, open your mouth just enough to be “interesting”…that’s it you fiery redhead…the dudes are gonna love this!

So after about 45 $5 hurricanes and 84 two for one bud lights the 49-ers win and are going to the Powerball! I have no idea why we were kissing our biceps? Maybe something to do with the home runs some guy scored?

Costume change! Time for game 2!

How’s it going Jess? Jess? Awww, look. You seem to be having a nice dream. Probably about some sweet girl-on-girl action on top of a motorcycle (that one’s for you fellas).

After 20 more beers, our roommate John finally showed up, and we took a really cute picture…

Then I guess the Ravens won (which I had to keep asking about because when you’ve had 114 beers and don’t know anything about football you have to ask other cute boys at the bar who won the game). Hooray, now we can have a Brooks Brothers Superbowl!

I hope you enjoyed my football play-by-play. If anyone has a 2nd cousin that works for ESPN 3, please send them my blog as I am looking for work. If they are not interested tell them that I’m ready and willing to do some girl-on-girl action on top of a motorcycle (but substitute ‘girl-on-girl’ with ‘drinking-red-wine-while-watching-American-Idol’ and substitute ‘motorcycle’ with ‘your face’).

Special shout out to friend Megan who is both a Patriots fan and a porn star (she is not a porn star).

PS: if any of you would like to subscribe to my blog to get alerted when I write new posts so that you don’t have to rely on Facebook or that batman like shadow that I post in the sky, please do. I think there’s a ‘subscribe’ button somewhere.

Day 18: Every day I’m shufflin’…or, yesterday I cleaned my room

Posted on January 18, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Stephanie Hilton)!

Confession: I am the sloppiest person known to man. I’m talking, if I was left to my own devices I would probably be a hoarder. Luckily though, I live with my 2 roommates, John and Abby, who are both extremely neat and organized. I’m talking when they have an extra 15 minutes to spare they clean the bathroom or run the dishwasher…OCD right? Cause if I have an extra 15 minutes to spare I do things like watch the middle of Criminal Minds where I have no idea what’s going on because I didn’t see the dead body in the beginning and have to leave to go to work before I find out who is responsible for the dead body that I didn’t get to see. And if I’m lucky it’s a Mandy Patinkin episode and not a Joe Mantegna episode…although he is starting to grow on me. So, as I am working on creating a happier and healthier life for myself. I have decided to nip this ongoing messiness in the bud. I googled “How to be more neat and organized” and came across the same advice over and over, which was…

In order to be organized, you must first get rid of all of your clutter.

And boy do I have a lot of clutter, especially in my closet. I enlisted my fabulously neat roommates to help me out.

And to add drama, I’ve decided to use the same technique as Carrie Bradshaw and her friends did while cleaning out her apartment in the Sex and the City Movie…the first one…we’ve previously discussed how the second one shall never be mentioned again.

For the purposes of this blog, the signs “TAKE” will be used as votes for items that I will keep (in SATC the girls used “TAKE” as in “take these items with you to your new sexy penthouse that your rich boyfriend who is about to leave your ass bought you), and the signs “TOSS” will be used as a vote for items that I should get rid of…”Thanks Captain Obvious”…”Your welcome,” annoying theoretical voice. Now let’s get this party started.

First up…

Some hats.

Let’s start with this lovely hat that my friend Margot De Labarre knitted for me 7 years ago while doing the musical White Christmas in Detroit…

And the vote is…

Good, because I really like that hat.

Now what about this crap load of yarn that I got that same day in the hopes to knit (learn how to knit ) a scarf that matches the hat?

And the vote is…

Really you guys? You have such little faith in me. Ok, fine. I’ll toss it. What’s next?

Ok, how about this White Christmas hat that I bought in hopes that I would wear it every Holiday season while on tour with this show?

Side note: I have not been hired to do this show in the last 4 years…which is totally fine…I don’t need your stupid health insurance/401k anyway…I can do my own pap smears…at home…with a few Q-tips and a milk jug….

What do you say guys?

Agreed.

(yes, this is the same photo as I already used…sorry ’bout it…my roommates are annoyed enough having to take 47 pictures of me a day doing weird s*it, I’m lucky I got them for this one).

Moving on…

Sam Adams Oktoberfest hat?

And…

Pabst Blue Ribbon trucker hat?

And St. Patrick’s Day headband with antenna…

The verdict..

You guys are going to be so sad you voted this way next Oktoberfest, St. Patty’s day, and National White Trash day (yes, I made up National White Trash day…I think?)

What about this PBR cowboy hat?

Huh? Huh?

Ok. I’m getting a little tired of this negative attitude (and this picture). What if I told you I had one for each of us?

Huh?

That’s what I thought you might say (with another stock photo).

Moving on…

My Halloween costume from 2011 made entirely out of dryer sheets. What was I? The Dyer Sheet Fairy…obvi (that’s what the kids are saying instead of obviously these days…I read it on the twitter).

What do you guys think?

F U John. I spent like 17 hours making this. What? No, I haven’t worn it since 4 am November 1st 2011, but I could wear it again some day? Did you see the sock on the back?

No. Still not good enough for you? What about the shoes?

No?! You suck (and yes, I probably should have re-painted my toe nails before I took this picture). I’m getting a 3rd party’s opinion. What say you 3rd party?

Fine. Guess who’s not getting fed later? It’s you, Ruby…it’s you.

(Don’t worry, I’m still going to feed her. Please don’t call PETA).

Here’s one you’ll like John. A little Gypsy swag (John and I were in Gypsy on Broadway together. The producers gave us this G-string on Opening night. It says Patti LuPone Gypsy. Excuse me while I pick up the name I just dropped…that only musical theatre people probably know about).

And the vote is…

Thanks John! You suck Abby What’s that? Why, yes. I did draw this picture on the back of an envelope. I accidentally deleted the real life image from my camera. Pretty good resemblance, no? I may give up blogging and shot girl-ing to become a professional illustrator. Watch your back Chris Van Allsburg…the illustrator of Jumanji and other various children’s books…like the Polar Express…who may or may not be dead…the author, not the Polar Express)

Alright, how about these pants that have holes in the crotch for various reasons…

Everyday wear and tear from morning dog walks over the past 4 years..

Reaching down to pick up your keys which you dropped in the elevator after a long night of rescuing puppies (drinking)…

And last butt not least (see how I did that? …butt with 2 “t’s”…you gotta play to win with these jokes guys…gotta play to win)

From doing a jump split at a gay karaoke bar after being challenged to a dance off by a 22 year old kid.

Which I totally won.

What do you think guys? No? Come on. How about we ask former roommate and future Mrs. Ben Gonzalez…(who is lounging in her office…in Pullman Washington).

Mary Trotter!

Ok. Fine. Not quite sure why you’re laying on the couch like that. Are you trying to seduce me Mary? Well, it’s working.

Ok, I’m getting tired (drunk). How about you help me out with some more stuff Abby Church…

Purple Unitard. Go!

Love it! In the words of Buddy the Elf “Very purple-y”.

Ok John, it’s your turn. You wouldn’t let me keep my dryer sheet Halloween costume, but what about this Little Red Riding Hood costume from 2008?

That’s a keeper…

Special shout out to John’s mom, Hi Diane!

Ok, thanks team. I think we’re done for the day. Now, off to the salvation army. I think they’ll be happy to have all of those dryer sheets…they’re spring rain scented….atleast they were in 2011…

Sarah out!

Day 15: Ballet (the “T” is silent)…

Posted on January 16, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Justin Aefsky)!

So in order to better my life today, I decided to …

…Take Ballet Class!

You see kids, my mother signed me up for ballet lessons at the ripe old age of 5. I hated it. My Mom wanted me do it…

A. Because her mother made her take ballet when she was a little girl.

and

B. Because her best friends were signing their daughters up.

Yep. That’s adorable little me (can you guess which one? You’re right! I’m all the way on the left). The funny thing is that my Mom didn’t even want me to do ballet. She wanted me to be a horseback rider (like she was at that age…which I kind of did until I fell off a Thoroughbred at the Race Track…when I was 7…Did I ever mention that I grew up on a Race Track? Or that Thoroughbreds like grass more than they like 7 year old girls? No. That’s a whole ‘nother story …for a ‘nother time….I like usin’ ‘nother) but after my very first recital, I was hooked!

See how adorable I was (PS: this is my current goal weight)! Anywho. I haven’t danced in 6 months (since I hurt my knee in Broadway Bares…where we strip to raise money to fight AIDS….yes, strippers fighting AIDS….just go with it) and my body has turned into a human jello mold (even though over the last month I’ve gone to the gym 5 times a week…3 times a week…1 time a week…I went once…and No, I’m not stealing that joke from Mindy Khaling from The Mindy Project….ok maybe I am…I love her….she’s my new girl crush since Tina Fey and I are fighting….Tina Fey does not know who I am…does anyone have Zooey Deschanel’s number?). Having ballet back in my life will make me feel better mentally and physically (and take up some red wine drinking time…which I don’t need because I don’t have a problem Mom…jeesh).

First thing’s first. What the Hell do grownups wear to ballet class these days?

Aha! Here’s a leotard. Oh wait, this is definitely from college. Do you hear dry rot in that elastic? Yep.

Ok, we got the leotard covered (what’s that sound? All of my male viewers once again clicking the little x at the top of the screen because they are tired of hearing about ballet class? Fair enough. The next few pictures are quite vivid…but not attractive at all. I understand if you bow out now. One day soon I will get to your favorite topics…hand jobs and motorcycles (that one’s for you neighbor)).

Time for tights…

Oh Jesus. This is not going to be a good day.

Special shout out to Abby Church for taking super awkward pictures of me looking crazy attractive. Why am I still single? Who knows.

Ok, this is not working. I’m going to be the biggest loser at the barre (when usually I’m the biggest winner at the BAR! Get it? Barre and Bar are homonyms. Words that sound the same but mean different things. Thank you Howard County Public School Systems…and bartenders).

I’ve got an idea!

Side note: Abby commented on how much she love’s my “I have an idea” photo’s…which means I’ve done this bit a few times….jeesh.

I know! I’ll put on those garbage bag looking pants (that only fellow ballet class attenders would understand. I’m not quite sure of the purpose. They either make you sweat more in the ass-al region, or just make your ass-al region look bigger which in turn makes the rest of your non ass-al region look smaller?)

See what I mean? Now where are my freakin’ ballet shoes?

Yes. Those boots are very cool. I figure they’re a mix between “Punky Brewster” and a 90 year old gardner.

Here they are!

Now that you’ve spent 45 minutes (having your picture taken…without any make-up…that you’re posting for millions (12) of people to see) getting ready. Get your ass out the door and get to class!

Sad side note: The train took 10 minutes to come (that’s what she said) and I was too late to make it to class. Inspirational blog though! No?

Let’s see if we can make it tomorrow.

PS: ‘nother shout out to my Mom and Dad who stuck by me and helped pay for my “Degree in Dance”…and for figuring out to scan pictures into their computer and then send them to my email address from 1999. Love you!

Day 14: Sarah finds a horse that bevels…

Posted on January 15, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Shane Regier)!

Today’s post isn’t really about a beveling horse…

Although I did come upon this fabulous creature while walking down Central Park South on the way to my “Introduction to your new Mac” class! (For any of you non-musical theatre kids out there, a bevel is a position that one can stand in to make one’s physique look taller/thinner/sexier/gay-er. I mean, how sexy is this gay horse? The bevel is a staple of the Radio City Rockettes…

which my stubby 5’4” self will never be…whatever…I’m the perfect height for a lot of things…like being in the front line of group soccer photos…if I ever decided to play group soccer…or needing to ask a tall handsome fella to grab me some pickled beets from the top shelf of the grocery store…which leads to a conversation about the pickling industry…which turns into coffee around the corner where you find out that both of your grandmother’s went to the same elementary school…which leads to a second date…which leads to becoming the 3rd Mrs. Ryan Reynolds… I digress…).

So, in keeping with the theme of my blog which is “doing something to better myself on a daily basis”, I’ve decided to…

…call a truce with technology.

Our war has been going on long enough and it is time that I break down and wave my little white “I give up, you win computer/phone/cable box/microwave/curling iron” flag, and learn one or 2 things about how this stuff works.

Which brings me back to the Apple Store on 5th Avenue. A special thanks to the Japanese family that took this photo and didn’t run away with my cell phone…and didn’t giggle at my two thumbs up as I did not giggle at the peace signs in their photo…I’m lying…I did giggle…but only a little.

I learned a great deal from my Intro to your Mac class…like what the F3 button does, and how to make your screen brighter or duller (which I’m pretty sure most 3 year olds already knew how to do). Being so excited to learn how to do more s*it, I decided to pay (put on my credit card) the $99 for a years worth of “one-to-one” classes. The first step was to transfer the crap from my old computer onto my new computer. Here is a picture of my fantastic helper Shane and his helper in training (who’s name I feel terrible about forgetting…so we will call him Shawn…Shane and Shawn, how adorable) Shawn taking a moment to get acquainted with the oldest living computer on the planet…which is mine.

Puzzled that this was indeed a lap top and not one of the tablets on which the 10 Commandments was written, Shane went in search of some help from a Tech guy from the Genius Bar (No, they don’t serve drinks there, I already asked). After a few minutes of sitting quietly and checking my bank account (trying not to cry…then remembering that I am practicing The Secret method and that someone is going to give me a check for 1 million dollars soon) on my phone, Shane, Shawn, and Tech guy came to me with some answers.

Tech Guy: Your computer is using the 2nd operating system ever invented. It’s the same software that Lincoln used to write the Gettysburg Address (he didn’t really say that…I just wanted to use Lincoln as a reference so I could tag him in this post and maybe get some more hits…Lincoln is doing for 2013 what little people, obesity, and Ke$ha did for 2012…Yes! Now I can tag Ke$ha…)

Me: I have no idea what that means.

Tech Guy: It means that in order to transfer anything from your old computer to your new computer you would have to buy a set of disks to upgrade your operating system. Unfortunately we haven’t made any of those disks since 2 Pac “died” (nailing it with celebrity tags!)

Me: Ok. I have no idea what that means.

Tech Guy: Well, the quotations around the word “died” mean that it is rumored that 2 Pac didn’t really die, he just went into hiding.

Me: Duh. Everyone knows that. What about my computer?

Tech Guy: Right. Well, you just need to buy an external hard drive, transfer each file onto the hard drive, and then transfer the files from the hard drive onto your new computer.

Me: I have no idea what that means.

Tech Guy: I know! I know! You stupid stupid girl. That’s why your paying us $99! So us smart guys can do really simple stuff for dumb girls and take their money.

Me: So, where did you say your grandmother went to Elementary school?

So, now I have to buy (my roommate John will look online, take my credit card, and buy) an external hard drive. My goal: to take a class once a week so that I can become tech savvy and maybe figure out how to do some cool things with my blog here. Oooh, maybe I can make it 3D! But then how could I get those blue and red glasses out to all 10 of my readers (12 readers now that Shane and Shawn are on board…or they just said they would read it so I would buy more stuff. Hmmm…).

A big thanks to Shane, Shawn (I’m so sorry I forgot your real name but you were very nice), and Tech Guy (who was not mean at all. I just wanted to get better ratings. No one rates this).

How many red headed sluts and blue kamikaze shots does one shot girl have to sell to buy an external hard drive? I guess we’ll find out…

Day 12: The Vision Board…

Posted on January 12, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Nancy Braun….sorry my post yesterday was dedicated to you but my phone auto-corrected your last name to Brain)!

So, as I said in my (shabbily written) post yesterday. I’ve reread The Secret, by Linda Byrne.

You see, back in 2007, I read The Secret just like every other depressed middle age housewife (I was a 24 year old tap dancer) that saw the book featured on Oprah (because if it’s featured on Oprah it must be good… and be the perfect solution to my 24 year old problems… and might turn me into a fabulous black woman…with a billion dollars). At that time, the book’s philosophy brought me all the things I wanted in my life. Within 6 months I got: A hit Broadway show, a Broadway salary (which was the most money that I believed any one person could possibly make…until I opened my bedazzled eyes to realize there’s a great big world out of there full of people making a lot more money…you know, like people that interview celebrities and have 4 golden retrievers and audience give aways…oh wait…I’m back to Oprah again aren’t I? Well, there’s tons of other people that make more money than Broadway chorus girls…without bum right knees…and health insurance…I digress….back to the list of things I got), a hot boyfriend, and a smokin’ bod. I figured that since the world didn’t end and my blog is now about making my life a little better one day at a time, I would give the old Secret another shot.

Sarah’s basic understanding of The Secret Technique (please don’t sue me if my reading comprehension isn’t what it used to be…in the 4th grade….when public schools tested you on reading comprehension):

1. The Law of Attraction: Act as if you already have whatever it is that you want and you will receive whatever it is that you want.

2. Visualization: Visualize everything that you want to happen and it will happen to you.

3. The Power of Positive Thinking: If you think about positive things then positive things will happen to you. If you think about negative things then negative things will then happen to you.

In order to go along with any of these ideas you definitely have to drink the Kool-Aid (side note: I had to explain to a fellow shot girl what the expression “drink the Kool-Aid” meant last night…you know, stuff you have to embrace when you’re the oldest living shot girl in Manhattan and all of your co-workers are too young to know of such cult suicides). So, I’ve been testing out these 3 tactics for a few days now, and it’s kinda cool the s*it that can happen (either by my powerful positive brain…or mere coincidence). I swear I made a D train come on the 59th street platform (by visualizing it) yesterday when I was running late to work. And by using The Law of Attraction, I’ve been pretending that I have plenty of money (which we all know that I’m as rich as a common hobo) I got 2 really easy quick paying job opportunities (…no Mom…I’m not a stripper…jeesh).

So to keep up with my Secret-ness I have decided to create a vision board (barf all you want…I’m going to be rich and famous and hot)

Step 1

Buy a cork board preferably in a girly shape, ’cause you’re a girl dammit!

(Unless you’re a boy reading this post that is…then get a cork board in the shape of a giant penis)

Step 2

Cut out inspiring sayings from your girly magazines (or gentlemanly magazines…whatever you hoodlums read is fine).

Step 3

Download and cut out pictures of people, places, or things that inspire you,

like this pic of Carrie Bradshaw here. Making enough money to afford that $4,000 outfit by typing on her computer a few times a week…hmmmm….

Step 4

Find some pictures of you when you were really happy with the way you felt and looked. Here’s me at the beach with Ruby…when I was 400lbs (10lbs) fewer…and had probably already drank 47 miller lites….those were the days.

PS: I also cut out this picture of Carrie Bradshaw’s bedroom (when she reclaimed her life after Mr. Big…douche) because that’s what I’m going to model my bedroom after.

(side note: I printed that picture for my hot boyfriend that I mentioned earlier. I casually showed it to him (along with a bunch of other decoy pictures of course) hoping that he would ask if he could keep it, frame it, and put it up in his bedroom to admire everyday how hot and awesome I was…he did not…so now I just have this picture of me in a bikini while holding my dog and beveling hanging out in my apartment. Time to put it to good use!)

Look how much fun vision board making can be!

Now that you have your finished vision board…

Yes. That’s a picture of Ryan Reynolds in the corner. Don’t judge me. You ladies know what I’m talking about (and based on my readers…probably quite a few of you men do too).

You can move onto Step 5

Pick a spot on the wall to hang your vision board. Somewhere you will see it every single day (just be sure to test it out first…so you don’t have to put 2 holes in your drywall because it was hanging too close to your closet…whoops).

Now you’re all set! Just make sure to look at it every day and really believe, drink the Kool-Aid! (No, not literally drink Kool-Aid Megan. Were you paying attention to anything I just said? No, I’m not mad, just disappointed. Why yes, you have sold a lot of red headed sluts tonight. Good job! Now run along) that those things are coming your way. All you have to do is be positive…and maybe get your fat ass to the gym.

Let’s see what happens if I look at this everyday for 66 days. Hopefully I will make out with Ryan Reynolds…not turn into him (yes, I know he’s married Mom…jeesh!)

Day 11: Your challenge, if you choose to accept it.

Posted on January 11, 2013 by sixtysixdaysofsarah

Hey there adoring fans (Nancy Brain)!

The challenge:
To write a post in the 9 minutes between restaurant job #1 and restaurant job #2…on your dumbphone (the dumb version of the smartphone) because although you brought your brand new computer with you to use at starbucks, the internet is slow that it wasn’t worth it to carry around in your makeshift case…

Which are fleece sweatpants that your friend Erin made you in college…

Oh Crap! Running out of time. And why does my phone always autocorrect Crap with a capital C!

Rats! 3 MIN! Why that is capitalized I don’t no. I mean know. Crap Sarah you’re running out of time! Anywho…today I reread The Secret…

And wrote myself a fake check for a million dollars…

After I had googled how many zeros were in one million dollars…stupid degree in jazz dance…

Will explain more tomorrow. Gotta go! Sorry for the typos!

Ps: hi Lucas!

sixty six days of sarah

Category Archives: Uncategorized

Day 41: Brunch…the reason it’s ok to drink at 11am

Day 38: I meditated the s*it out of her…

Day 36: 33 is half of 66…incase you’re an idiot.

Day 36: 33 is half of 66…incase you’re an idiot.

Day 33: Punxsutawney Philly

Day 31: I take two steps forward and pas de bourre back..

Day 29: I’m blue daba de daba “Hi guys”!

Day: Wanna come hang with my passé?

Day 22: Yo, your Malm is so fat…

Gabrielle Bernstein!

Day 21: Are you ready for some futbol?!

Day 18: Every day I’m shufflin’…or, yesterday I cleaned my room

Day 15: Ballet (the “T” is silent)…

Day 14: Sarah finds a horse that bevels…

Day 12: The Vision Board…

Day 11: Your challenge, if you choose to accept it.

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Gabrielle Bernstein!

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