On Being Unfaithful

Friday, January 30, 2015


This isn't an easy topic to bring up, but since I try to keep things pretty honest on here I know it must be addressed.

I don't think that cheating ever "just happens." I think it's a choice that someone makes before they actually act upon it. I know people have their own thoughts on this and that's fine, I'm just telling you mine.

I'm telling you my thoughts right now because recently (yesterday) I got caught red handed.

I told Harlow I was going to the store but I actually went to an animal shelter to see other dogs. There, I said it. I'd like to say it didn't mean anything and it won't ever happen again, but I know that's a lie.

It meant a lot.

I went to Felines and Canines in Rogers Park and saw dogs of all shapes and sizes, staring at me with their sweet little faces, just wanting some human affection. I should note that this particular facility is a beautiful shelter. The dogs all had their own little rooms, complete with a comfy bed, a few toys, and food and water. It was clean as a whistle and they even had a sound machine playing ocean waves. But the way some of the pups had their wet noses pressed right up against the glass was just heartbreaking.

I was just going to walk one dog yesterday, a little pup that looked like she was climbing the walls dying to get out and burn some of that puppy energy.  I could barely get little Rozzi on the leash before she was jumping all over me.



But after I walked her and brought her back inside her neighbor was looking at me like, are you seriously not going to walk me? C'mon, don't do that. So then I walked her adorable blonde neighbor too.


By the time we got back the sweet old gal, Hannah, who was asleep when I arrived was officially awake and waiting near the glass for her walk. She was a little hesitant with me at first and I had to carry her upstairs, but when we got outside she turned into a different dog. She would walk a bit and then just turn and smile at me.


Hannah just relocated to Chicago after being in a pretty bad place in Kentucky. I guessed she was about 8 or 9. But the shelter said she's only 3. Growing up in an overcrowded shelter like the ones in the south tends to age a dog pretty quickly.

By the time I took Hannah back I just accepted the fact that I was going to walk every dog in the row. They really didn't give me much of choice.

This pretty girl is another Kentucky transplant. She just wanted to be outside smelling all the good scents in her sassy red jacket.


The thing I noticed with every dog is the moment we got outside they just wanted to run. And then I couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since they'd gotten the chance to do that? Do they ever get off leash? Probably not a lot.

The hardest part for me was taking each dog back into their little room. As I said before, Felines and Canines is a wonderful facility, probably as nice as a shelter gets, but still. It's a shelter. And these dogs spend their entire day in a small square space. So after I unleashed each of them I would sit in their room for a bit and give them a good pet and scratch and tell them you is kind, you is smart, you is important, until I thought they were ready for me to go. But they were never ready. Little Rozzi actually threw herself on me at one point trying to keep me from leaving. A worker happened to peak in and saw us embracing in a very long dog hug, which was kind of awkward, but both the dog and I needed it so whatever.

When I got home it was even worse.

Harlow immediately greeted me at the door, toy in mouth as usual, but the moment he got a whiff of me he dropped his bear and looked at me suspiciously. I tried to spray myself with perfume in my car to cover up the scent of the other dogs, but Harlow knew. He knew it immediately.

He smelled every inch of my jeans and shoes while I made up excuses about where I was, but he wasn't having it. He just looked at me like I was pitiful. Harlow can be very selfish. He's the epitome of an only child and doesn't understand a life without constant trips to the park/beach/wherever else he demands I take him. So he was less than happy to learn I'd been out galavanting with other bitches.

But whether Harlow likes it or not, I'm going to keep seeing my new dog pals. If he's not careful I might just bring one of them home...

And just so you know, for those of you that ordered shirts, Felines and Canines is the first place where I'm donating a portion of the profits. So in one way or another, your money is going to help the pups you see above. So thank you for that. They thank you as well.

Have a great weekend! I promise to cut back on the dog posts next week. Then again, maybe not.


*To check out Felines and Canines on Facebook click here.

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Are You An Anthro Girl?

Thursday, January 29, 2015


I went soul searching yesterday and I found a better version of myself.

I found her at Anthropologie. I don't go in that store very often because I can't afford to pay $175 for an apron covered in owls wearing oxfords, but just for the hell of it I wandered in yesterday to see what might happen.

And I liked what I saw. After just a few moments of meandering around the store I became relaxed and calm. The strong scents of Anthro's blue candles floated inside me and a very tranquil feeling overcame me. None of the store workers even looked at me and it felt wonderful. I felt like an Anthro-girl. Or I should say an Anthro-old woman because let's be honest, all of their clothing is what I like to call "Hippy Grandma Goes To The Country Club." But by God do I love it.

Anthro girls love classy hippy grandma clothes.

Everything is white and creme and crotchet and mauve. Is mauve even a word? I don't know but it felt right as I wandered around wondering if I'm in a clothing store or a hardware store or have just accidentally fallen into a homeless woman's shopping cart full of goodies she pushes down the street.

The open floor plan with exposed wood and hanging lanterns makes me think this store was designed by magical forest fairies. That, or a young child who just started screaming random things they wanted placed all over. "A string of deer antlers there! And bird houses there! Let's put more plates on the wall! And then let's cover this bed with marshmallows!"

There's gorgeous bowls shaped like ducks and ducks shaped like bowls. Everything seems to have feathers. The coffee mugs, the rugs, even the decorative brooms and scrub brushes have feathers. Why does Anthro have brooms or scrub brushes? Why? Because this store has everything decorative no one needs, but that everyone wants. Have you seen their section of drawer knobs? Talk about gorgeous. I once saw a knob the size of a quarter that had a painting of baby Jesus eating a blueberry scone. It still makes me cry when I think about it.

I think at one time Anthro might have been a clothing store. But now it seems the clothes are just a front to bring confused people like myself inside. Sure, they still sell pilgrim dresses draped in long vests and unnecessary belts, as well as polka dot covered boxy-fitting blouses and blazers, but the clothes just feel like an after thought. Anthro has moved on to bigger things.

They sell more than clothes.

They sell you on the idea of what life is like when you can afford to pay $800 for the most uncomfortable yet beautiful chair covered in dancing sparrows wearing pearls. A chair similar to one your grandma might have paid $60 for in the 1950s. Because that's what our culture loves right now, paying top dollar for things that look used.

They sell you on what it's like to be a rich old woman, stuck in a young woman's body, dreaming of being a rich old woman.

And that my friends, is the study of anthropologie.

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The Best Black Bean Soup You'll Ever Taste


Here's a fun fact about me: I am obsessed with beans. I always have been, even back in elementary school when it was totally uncool to love beans. I would get made fun of when I always asked for seconds from the lunch ladies on baked bean day. But I couldn't help myself, baked beans are like candy.

So naturally I wanted to find a new soup recipe that was based almost entirely of beans (that isn't chili) and I stumbled across one that is equally delicious, healthy, and full of black beans!

Here's what you need:
Chicken Broth
Olive Oil
Carrots
Black Beans
Onions
Lime
Cilantro


Season with:
Cayenne Pepper
Garlic Salt
Cumin
Red Pepper
And whatever the hell else you want.

Saute the vegetables in a soup pot until they get soft. Then add the chicken broth and beans, and bring it to a boil. Let it simmer for about ten minutes.

And then this is where we're going to get real crazy. You're going to pour the contents of the soup into your blender.

Have you ever made a soup puree in a blender? Because up until this past weekend I never had, but now that I've seen how easy it is my mind is blown. I used my Nutri Ninja, which I am pretty obsessed with, and watched it turn my regular old soup into a delicious puree. I love this blender because it takes all of the guess work out of getting the right consistency, it just seems to know. Or I should say the buttons know. You press the one you want and seconds later, it's ready to go.


Please excuse the bad photo. I was so excited by what was happening I didn't think to actually take a decent one.

I added a little shredded chicken and cilantro on top to make the soup even more filling. Although in hindsight I probably didn't need the chicken because it was filling on its own, but it tasted great so I have no regrets.


So there you have it, a new soup recipe to try out!

If you have any great blender recipes I'd love to hear them! Perhaps a good Super Bowl dip or something? If you've got something, let me know!


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Let's Save The Dogs

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

It always just starts with one article.

I'll see a post on Facebook or Twitter with a pic of a sad pup or a terrible sounding headline and even though I know I shouldn't click on it, I do. I always do. And then I find another article. And another. And before I know it I'm about ten sad dog articles in, feeling like absolute hell thinking I'm completely help less.

Facebook dog groups do it to me, as well. My feed is now just a big stream of shelters across the country trying to find homes for dogs. Do you follow Susie's Senior Dogs? You should. I could spend all day reading about her success stories... And then there's this Nebraska group I follow from the town I grew up in. It's usually quite amusing, it's full of people giving away "normal" stuff like old underwear, half used lotion, and glitter jeans, you know the regular. But then there's also a new dog on there every day someone is trying to pawn off. And that shit drives me insane. "We just can't keep him anymore...He needs to go." No maam, you need to go. Who are these people who just think of their animals as disposable items? You might not consider your dog a family member but sadly that's most definitely how he thinks of you. How can you just decide "he needs to go?" I could rant about this for days.

Like I said, I might have a problem.

The other day I was with Harlow at Home Depot (he's a bit of a carpenter so he loves this place) and I spotted another woman with a dog that I thought I recognized. As she walked closer it dawned on me how I knew her, I watched her dog get hit by a car last summer and drove both of them to the hospital as he lie in her lap dying in my passenger side. But he didn't die! Here he was at Home Depot bouncing around like any other healthy black lab. I'm embarrassed to admit how excited I was to see him doing okay because I never really knew.

As soon as the owner saw me she rushed over and introduced herself and told me it was a long recovery for her dog and he almost didn't make it, but he did. And he's as happy and healthy as ever. She was too.

I liked the feeling of thinking that I actually helped a dog, rather than just self loathing and simply feeling sorry for dogs. So a few weeks ago I told Chris that I'm going to do something different this year. Instead of just being sorry for dogs, which in all honesty does no good, I'm going to do something about it. Albeit, something small, but hopefully it will help never the less.

So that's why I'm bringing you this shirt. 


For every shirt sold, 20% goes to an animal shelter here in Chicago.

You can place your order by clicking here

I say for 2015 we see more success stories about dogs than sad stories, what do you think?

Thanks for listening to another one of my crazy dog lady posts, you know there's always more where this came from.


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The Thing About Vacations

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Vacations, man. They mess with my head.


I get so excited to go on them. And then I'm so excited right when I get there. But then about half way through I already start worrying about going home and worrying that I'm not making the most of it. And worrying about anything on vacation is not in fact "making the most of it," in my opinion.

Granted this was a super short trip to Cabo, but it felt like one minute I was walking into the resort getting into my swimsuit as fast as possible, and the next minute I was already back at the airport on a plane to Chicago. So the vacation was obviously super quick, yet when I got home it felt like I'd been gone for two weeks with everything I had to catch up on.

Like I said, vacations screw with my head. But that doesn't mean I don't love going on them.

And now let's recap more Cabo photos than you probably want to see.

Day 1: Fresh off the plane and ready to get my Mexico on.


Views like this make me wonder why I live in Chicago. I need to get near the coast asap.


Pina coladas on the beach. I should also note here that by the end of the trip between my mom, sister, and myself we had collectively purchased at least 10 new straw hats from the vendors selling them on the beach. Why? We have no idea.


My family is a good time.


I've pretty much just accepted the fact that I'll never be as fun as my parents.  


Speaking of fun, I finally tried paddle boarding for the first time. And I loved it! I would do it every day if I could. It counts as a workout, right?


My summer 2015 goal is to get Harlow on a paddle board with me.


And another Cabo sunset photo. It's a good thing I don't live in a place where I can regularly see the sun set, because if I did my Instagram would just be one constant cliche stream of them.


Last day. Looking a little haggard.


Spoiler alert, it's not coffee in my cup. It's Pepto-Bismol. Per the usual, my diet for the last two days of vacation consisted of Pepto, Tums, and Imodium. Gotta love those Mexican stomach "aches."


And one more sunset photo because why not?


Thanks for another great trip, Cabo. See you in November.

Now to tackle Monday... And the last week of January. Spring is getting closer, one chilly Chicago day at a time.


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12 Things To Know About Cabo Before You Go There

Wednesday, January 21, 2015


Corona is easier to come by than water. Embrace it.

I should also note it's completely safe to drink the water. Just know that you're probably going to have terrible digestive problems regardless. Embrace it.

Beware of jellyfish. If you go snorkeling there's a good chance you will run into a big pack of them. If this happens, just do what I do- jump on your snorkeling partner's back and panic irrationally while he tries to get you off of him as he sinks lower and lower into the jellyfish. Chris loves when I do this.

Banana boats aren't as fun as they look. They hurt your inner thighs and it's terrifying when you fall off and suddenly remember you're in a big ocean and most likely surrounded by jellyfish.

Seals aren't dogs.


If you'd like to spend a day at Lover's Beach, good luck getting off the "water taxi." A water taxi is any tiny boat owned by a local. The driver of the boat will try to help you, but there's a good chance you're just going to fall off as the waves crash wildly around you. It's scary yet thrilling. *Don't bring your camera or phone with you to Lover's Beach as it will fall in the ocean. Just bring beer.

If you'd like to swim near the rocks there's an amazing little keyhole you can peak through and if the tide is low you can wander back into a thin cave. However if the tide is not low, you will almost die and get slammed against the rocks. Thank God Chris always has my back in Cabo. I've almost died more than a few times there.

The sun is intense. Put on SPF 60 and a beach hat. Wrinkles and sun spots aren't souvenirs you want to take home.



While you're on the beach or by a pool, it's only natural that you're going to want to eat and drink a lot. This is totally okay. Just realize you're going to be in a weird drunkish state by 3:00 p.m. and then will most likely eat way too much, take a little nap, and then wake up around 5:30 or 6:00 feeling hungover. Good luck going out at this point.

Squid Roe is a terribly cheesy bar downtown. Chances are you'll have the best or worst time of your life here. Probably both.

Skip the touristy restaurants, they're over priced and not worth the hype. Go into the small corner spots you just happen to stumble upon. The only exception to this might be The Office.

It's Cabo, you can't have a bad time. It's not allowed.


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The Life of Grace

Monday, January 19, 2015

My great grandma Grace died this past weekend just three months short of turning 102. She and I share a birthday, May 16th. We also happen to share the middle name Grace, as well.

It's amazing for me to think about the life she led and everything she saw in this world. At the age I am now she was in the thick of the Great Depression living in a log cabin deep in the woods of Minnesota, feeding her family almost entirely from canned vegetables they grew in their garden. 

Her life story is an incredible one, full of secret adoptions and fortune tellers revealing the truth. I actually wrote a post about it two years ago when she turned 100. Today as I think about the life of my great grandma I thought it felt right to share a piece of her story once again.


Grace was un-expectantly born to an unwed young mother on May 16th, 1913 in a small town in Iowa. (Pre the days of MTV glorifying teen moms.) Her mother complained of stomach cramps, was taken to the hospital, and a few hours later gave birth to Grace.

Almost immediately, Grace's grandmother demanded she be put up for adoption. A minister from the hospital knew of a family that lived close by who couldn't have children, so he made arrangements for Grace to be adopted by them, all very hush hush as you can imagine. Meanwhile... Grace's young father had no idea any of this was happening because he had briefly left the state to take work on a temporary logging assignment. When he returned a week later and learned of his baby girl Grace who had already been given away, he asked her mother to marry him and they went to the adoption house to get her back.

The adoption family agreed to give Grace back the following day, but when her young birth parents returned to pick her up the next day, the new family had packed up everything and moved in the middle of the night, Grace in tow.

For the next sixteen years Grace's real parents looked for her, while she had no idea they even existed.

Looking back, Grace has said, it now makes sense to her why her adoptive family moved around so much when she was growing up. She always kind of wondered if they were hiding, when in reality, they were just hiding her. It wasn't until 1929 when at a county fair with a friend, when Grace would learn the truth. 

Simply for the fun of it, she and her friend decided to visit the "See'er" to have their fortunes told.
And it was this See'er, who was obviously a complete stranger I might add, who revealed to my great-grandma at just sixteen years old, that she was actually adopted.


The truth became certain when Grace returned home and casually mentioned to her parents what had happened at the fair and they instantly became irate and forbid her to go to another fair, and of course ever visit another See'er. See'ers were the devils people. 

At this point I would probably need an entire blog to fully give my grandma's life story justice because it goes on to include getting reunited with her sister fifty years later, a kidnapping with a tragic ending, (with once again the true being revealed by a fortune teller) and just so much more of everything else life involves in between. And yet it's amazing to me how modest my grandma is about herself and her legacy, she doesn't see anything special about it all.


Rest in peace, sweet Grandma Grace. I hope you're reunited with all of your family and friends who have gone before you. And of course all of your awesome dogs, as well. 

May 16, 1913- January 17, 2015.


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19 Reasons To Go To Cabo

Sunday, January 18, 2015


A couple of weeks ago I booked a last minute trip to Cabo.  My parents are already down there, I found a really cheap flight, and then I found this cute swimsuit at Target so I figured I might as well go.

But before I pressed "confirm" on my flight the list of reasons why I shouldn't go was just swirling in my head, so I decided I should probably make a list of why I should go.

1. Because the winter blues are real. And I've got them.

2. It's a cold dirty mess here right now. And that's just inside my house.

3. I need vitamin D that doesn't come in pill form.

4. I'm out of K-cups.

5. Southwest Airlines just sent me a free in-flight movie. And it expires in February! I can't just waste it.

6. I just got a new razor.

7. My palest of pale winter makeup is too dark for me right now.

8. I've worn long underwear under my jeans for three solid weeks now. No underwear should have the word "long" in front of them.

9. My nose hasn't stopped running since November.

10. It takes 30 minutes just to get layered enough to go outside.

11. I've worn the same ski socks for six days in a row.

12. My cabin fever is getting out of control. I wrote an entire two person play last week. For myself and Harlow to star in.

13. I laid down in the park last week because the sun was actually out and I thought it felt nice. It was only 23 degrees. And that felt nice to me. (That's not right.)

14. I miss this view.


15. I was invited. Well kind of. Technically I invited myself on my parents Cabo trip but whatever.

16. Did I mention I have the winter blues? I've just been so cranky/sad lately and I can't snap out of it.

17. I watched the entire season of Transparent yesterday and cried in every episode. What is wrong with me?

18. Life is short.

19. When you get a chance to go to Cabo with your family for a few days you should take it.

And on that note, I'm off. You'll know I've arrived as soon a I start posting super annoying photos on Instagram of my feet in the sand or holding a Corona with an obnoxious caption like "This sure beats a Tuesday in Chicago."

I'd like to apologize ahead of time for all of my asshole photos that are about to happen. Just know it's a quick trip, I'll be back in the arctic by Friday.


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Inside A Blogger's Mind On Instagram

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Because sometimes I feel like an insecure teenager on Instagram and suddenly start questioning everything I do. Is that pathetic and a little sad? Absolutely. But I can't help myself, I'm a blogger. This is my business. If I don't keep up, I'll be left in the Valencia filtered dust. 

Thus I present to you: the inner thoughts of a blogger while scrolling on Instagram.


I hope people like this photo.

If no one likes this photo in 1 minute I'm taking it down.

Okay I'm taking it down. I knew it was dumb.

I hope no one notices I took it down.

I wonder which photo I should post? (When choosing between 45 identical photos.)

But which filter fits the mood best?

Forget it, I'm not posting anything.

This girl's photos are so staged.

I should probably get better at staging photos.

I wonder how many followers I'll lose when I post this?

How does she already have 20k followers? Didn't she just start blogging a month ago?

Fashion bloggers. Typical.

Damn, I like blanket scarves.

I need more blanket scarves.

I should redo a room in my house.

I bet she gets so much free stuff.

Wonder how much she got paid to post a photo of toilet paper?

I should probably get a white fur rug asap.

I don't know why I'm liking this photo but I am.

Shit!!!! (When you accidentally hit share too soon.)

Wow, hashtag much?

I should probably hashtag more.

That is the dumbest photo ever.

But I like it.

Now how in the hell did she take that photo on her own?

She must have the longest arm ever.

Another "loop" giveaway?

Ugh those are the worst.

I'll never do one again.

Unless someone asks me. Why? Are you hosting one?

I feel like a total loser posting this.

My non-blog friends are going to think I'm such a creep.

I wonder if I tag the brand if they'll repost me?

WHY haven't they reposted my photo?

I hate Instagram.

I love Instagram.

But mostly I hate it.

The struggle is real. The photos are fake.      Plug----> Follow @taylorgracewolfe

Can we go back to words trumping photos? Anyone? Anyone? Okay.


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All Of My Friends Are Having Babies

Yesterday I got a text from a friend I've know since childhood showing me photos of the beautiful baby boy she just had. I got her text while I was in the middle of dressing up Harlow as the Great Gatsby.


You know, from the scene when Leo is wearing that gorgeous creme sweater and he just looks so chic and nautical as Gatsby? Yeah, that one. Harlow totally nails it.

Anyway, I got my friend's text as I was rolling up Harlow's sleeves and I suddenly thought whoa. WHOA. I may have accidentally let my life get a bit off course... I've become that creepy childless friend who dreams of having a farm of dogs rather than a family of children. Sure it doesn't seem weird now, but give me time. Soon enough all of my friends will have their beautiful families and I'll be "aunt Taylor" who visits at birthday parties and comes covered in dog hair wearing a tie dye shirt with a Wolf on it and gifts homemade dream catchers as birthday presents.

"I made you a dream catcher with your name on it this year! Do you like it? That right there is an illustration of one of my dogs' who I think looks just like you!" And I cackle like a lunatic as I hand the gift over and all of the children run in fear.

Okay I'm getting carried away. But that's a fun visual, right?

For the record I don't think people who choose not to have children are creepy at all. Likewise if you choose to have ten children, that's not creepy either. To each their own Duggar clan. All I'm saying is that all of my friends are pregnant, trying to get pregnant, or on their second child and I'm sitting here googling "tricks to win the lottery" and wondering if I should make another video of impressions of child actors.

It's astonishing (and terrifying) to me that people my age and younger have figured out how to successfully bring a new human into this world. I just tried to bring groceries in and two of my bags ripped and I spilled an entire gallon of milk five feet from my door and I almost broke down and cried. Because now I'm going to have milk ice near my stoop and dogs are going to stop and lick my milk ice and some are going to pee on my milk ice and I'm just going to slip on my milk ice.

So that's where I'm at- struggling with my own life while my peers are creating new life. Always a few steps behind it feels like.

I'm not against having children by any means. I know that someday I'll want kids (for blogging purposes obviously) and also because I'll want to dress that baby in adult style clothing (like business suits and stuff) because the only thing that gives me a chuckle more than animals dressed as humans are babies dressed as adults. Take this time to google babies dressed as adults and you won't be disappointed.

This feels like one of my good old fashioned ramble posts where I have absolutely no way to end it. I sure hope you've enjoyed it, it's been a weird one.

I guess I'll just conclude by saying congrats to all of my friends having babies and making it seem so damn easy. And congrats to all of my friends not having babies and making it seem so damn easy. As long as one of you can still meet me for brunch on the weekends I think we'll be okay in this life.

Is it Friday yet?


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27 Is A Weird Age

Right now I have friends that are already on their second child and I also have friends that are still blacking out every night as if they're in college.

I have friends who are contemplating where to send their children for preschool and friends who are contemplating where to rent a house for Coachella.

Some of my friends have settled into motherhood and building a family like it was what they were always meant to do, while I've got other pals that are absolutely running from it.

This late-twenties thing we're all trying to tackle just feels a little unsettling to me at times. I'm just not sure how to do it correctly. And I don't know what "correctly" even means in this situation. However I have a strong feeling it has nothing to do with dressing your dog in human clothes because you find it entertaining.

Up until a few years ago it seemed like all of my peers were more or less on the same track.



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I'm The Great One

Wednesday, January 14, 2015


One can learn a lot about themselves by taking a peak into their journal from twenty years ago. For instance it totally makes sense to me now why I have a problem with authority and why my goals/expectations for life are completely unrealistic.

Back in 1996 our writing prompt for the day was to write about "The Great One." And who did I choose? Well myself of course.

Part 1: I Don't Want To Brag.


Birth order is such an interesting topic to me. I really won the lottery being the youngest. Sure my brother and sister often ganged up on me and were very very cruel to me, like the infamous birthday trip from hell in Disney World, but for the most part I had it good. By the time the third child rolls around parents are just so hungover from the first two they're willing to do whatever to make you happy. It's quite wonderful actually.

However enabling might be a bit of a problem down the road. For example my mom still pays for my movie tickets when she comes to Chicago and my sister still has to pay for her own... But my sister has a lot more money than me.

Part II- A Feminist I Was Not.


Lesson to be learned here: if  there's something you can't handle just call a man in to take care of the job! Men can do anything, women not so much.

However it must be noted that I was quite good at writing backward! Oh the talent.


LYTT-
yaT


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That One Thing I've Never Done

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

There are two types of people in this world. Those that do karaoke and those that do not. I happen to fall into the "do not" category. That is until last night when I went out with some friends to celebrate Adrienne and Ethan's 25th birthdays.


What you see above is a photo of me making my debut karaoke appearance. And what song did I choose to sing? My favorite party song, What's New Pussycat by Tom Jones. A classic. I can tell by my hand I'm probably singing the lyric about big pussycat eyes. Followed by the lyric about big pussycat lips.

Here's a fun tip- if you're doing karaoke for the first time, google the lyrics to the song you're about to choose before you get on stage and find yourself singing about big pussycat lips in front of a crowd of people.

What I failed to mention is that everyone I was karaoking with are incredibly talented singers. They're theaterfolk. After about the 7th show tune I didn't recognize I realized I was the only poor fool in the room that didn't study musical theater in college. And then I also realized why I've never been invited on their karaoke nights before... They don't mess around.

But if there's one thing I've learned from studying improv and comedy, it's that you've got to go hard or go home. If you feel stupid on stage then you look stupid on stage. So damnit, I got up there and sang about pussycats with all my heart. I belted out my terrible singing voice for all to hear. And I lived.

But sadly I wasn't nearly as entertaining as my friends on stage. Here's a few photos of how the good ones do it.




I get the pleasure of performing with these wonderful people on Sunday at Sketchfest and I am so very excited. We'll be on at 5 p.m. in the Thrust Theater at Stage 773. You should probably come. Our show is very weird.

Now go take on your day.

XOXO
Tom Jones

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