What Are You Thankful For?

Recently we recorded Thankful videos for our company's web site, you can see them here: http://www.coynepr.com/thankful.html.

In mine I said that I was thankful for all the creepy guys I meet and all the weird people at my gym because they give me stuff to write about on my blog.

But then I realized I haven't actually written anything in a while about creepy guys I've met or weird gym people.

I haven't really been to the gym that much recently to see the weird people. And not too many creepy guys have struck up conversations with me lately (with the exception of one guy who was deemed "vampire-esque; it had something to do with his deep v-neck shirt).

Then I started thinking, have no creepy guys talked to me because I haven't been to the gym in a while?

So should I stop going to the gym altogether?

Fire Fighter

Every once in a while, I get little glimpses into who I really am through situations that arise and how I react to them. Like this for example.

The most recent of these revelations was last Saturday when I went to Easter Vigil mass with my parents. The mass was broken up into stages, apparently with themes. The first was light. They gave everyone candlesticks stuck through holes in the bottom of a plastic cup with the top of the candle a few inches above the rim of the cup.

So once the priest and co. started walking down the aisle they lit people's candles and and then everyone lit the candles of those around them, even the small children with poor hand eye coordination; I did not take a candle.

They dimmed the lights that the church was filled with the soft glow of hundreds of candles throughout the opening songs and prayers. Sounds nice, right? However, my reaction to all this was to huff and cluck my tongue indignantly, leaning over to my dad saying "Well, this is just an accident waiting to happen." Then over to my mom, "Who decided this was a good idea?" Then to myself, "Seriously, they're letting children handle open flames in a room where people are packed like sardines, this is ridiculous."

I paid no attention to anything having to do with the ceremony or holiday; I was too preoccupied with looking around to see who's hair would catch on fire first and doing what I could to make sure it wasn't mine.

I didn't sit down, or even relax my shoulders until I was sure the three little girls in the pew behind me had completely extinguished their flames and given the wax time to cool.

I'm sure it was a very nice effect for those who appreciated it, but I can't help but think that God would see it my way.

Thank You for Being a Friend

So for today's play date with my little sister, T-Bone, we got plain t-shirts, glitter paint, various pink appliques that said things like "Princess," "Angel" and "Girl Talk," gold lame' iron on letters and a hot pink feather boa and planned to create some sweet fashionable tops.

I kept mine relatively simple. I made some designs with the glitter paint and then made it an uplifting homage to The Office writing "You have no idea" on the front and "How high I can fly" on the back.

T-Bone had much grander plans. The pink boa was cut into three pieces and glued around the collar and sleeves. The Princess applique went front and center. On the back in the gold letters she spelled out the word "Chill" (didn't get an explanation of why) and on the front in multi-colored glitter paint she wrote "The Golden Girls."

"Do you and your friends call yourselves the Golden Girls?" I asked.

"Nope," she replied.

"Oh, well do you just like the show then?"

"What show?" She was unfamiliar with this classic sitcom.

"So, you just wanted to write 'The Golden Girls' on there just because?"

"Yup, and I'm going to write 'Field Day' on there too."

"Fair enough."

I don't question anything she says or does anymore, it just makes my head hurt.

It was really nice out this afternoon so naturally, people were engaged in outdoor activities. In the course of my day I saw lots of people running and quite a few people on bikes. Some of the bike things struck me as funny and/or a little odd.

1) In Hoboken, a guy was dressed in shiny, clingy silver shorts and top with a really large silver helmet and rode his bike up onto a sidewalk right near where I was in my car at a red light. There was no incline on the sidewalk at all, however he tried to do a little hop like he was going up a ramp. My window was open and I had to restrain myself from yelling "Sweet Wheelie!"

2) Driving down Upper Mountain road in Montclair I saw three teenage boys riding bikes- nothing unusual there. Then I realized that two of them were on a tandem bike- that's gay even for a mature homosexual couple to do, I can't imaging how secure these two must be in themselves and their friendship.

3) I saw a woman riding her bike down another Hoboken street with her long hair flowing around her face looking like it might obscure her vision and wearing dressy black pants and a black blazer. She may be trying to be green, she might be trying to save money, but I like to think she was really trying look good for the aforementioned silver bullet so they could become a couple that pops wheelies and shops for monochromatic outfits together.

Life Lesson #2,573

I had (what I consider) a major life experience last night. For the first time that I am aware of, I got cheated, hoodwinked, taken for a ride, swindled- by a cab driver.

I went to have dinner with my dad at the Ritz Carlton in Battery Park and he, being a good dad, didn't want me to take the subway when I left. He wanted to give me money for a cab. He handed me a twenty dollar bill and five singles. Then he said, "wait, I want to use the singles to tip the doorman." So I gave the singles back and he gave me a five dollar bill and I put it in my pocket with the other bill.

I got in a cab and when we arrived, the meter said $14.50 so I reached into my pocket and pulled out the two bills, put the five back in my pocket and handed the other bill to the driver. I gathered my bags and then the drive said "Excuse me, miss?" He was holding up a one dollar bill with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Oh, wait, let me, uh..." I floundered, confused. I checked my pocket and took the other bill out of my pocket- it was a five.

"Crap," I thought. "I must have given Dad the twenty back when we exchanged the ones for the five."

"I don't have any other cash on me, I'll have to pay with a card."

"No," he replied. "I already set the meter for cash."

"What? You really can't take a card even if I don't have cash?"

"No, I can't, oh man. How much do you have?"

"Um," I wasn't thinking at that point, I was flustered and tired so I didn't question him. "I have nine dollars."

"Ok," he said. "Just give me what you have, not your fault, don't worry about it."

"Ok, I'm so sorry about that."

I gave him the rest of the money I had and walked away.

Then I called my dad and had the following conversation:

"I can't believe this, I gave you back the twenty dollar bill by accident when I gave you back the ones."

"You did?" he said.

"Yeah, I thought I handed the driver a twenty but I actually gave him a one and then he couldn't take a card so he just took whatever money I had..." My voice trailed off as I realized what I was saying.

"I only had one twenty on me and I don't have it anymore- and I have those five ones in my pocket."

"Son of a bitch, I've been had!"

"Yes, yes I think you have."

"Eh, at least it wasn't my money."

Pretty Nice Little Saturday

1) I have been taking the NJ transit bus into the city for my improv class on Saturdays. I had literally no cash on me today so I thought I'd go to the ATM across the street from the stop and then go to the CVS and get change so I wouldn't have to pay the driver with a twenty. As I walked up to the ATM the bus pulled up. I knew I'd miss that one but there is usually another like five minutes behind it. Then the second bus pulled up right behind the first before I had a chance to get any money.

2) I was late to improv class.

3) Class is three hours long so at the halfway point we take a break. When I went into the bathroom I saw that I had almost an entire flake of Special K resting delicately on the collar of my sweater. It had most likely been there since I'd eaten breakfast two and half hours before, and had definitely been there through the three scenes I'd done in front of my whole class.

4) On my way home I saw a small truck with lettering (like official, not a cutesy bumper sticker) across the rear windshield and bumper that said "Caution: Working Border Collies On Board." I made myself laugh thinking of the owner of the truck telling someone "I'm warning you, Sir, if you don't cease and desist, they will herd you ."

5) I got home and continued reading the third book in the "Twilight" series, embarrassed for myself for compulsively reading these poorly written books, but not letting that stop me.

6) Right now I need to be getting ready to go out to dinner and then back to the city for a show but instead I am eating an entire bag of popcorn one kernel at a time and writing on my blog.

I Won't Be Writing a Book Any Time Soon

I'm reading a book right now called "The Wisdom of Crowds" by James Surowiecki, which argues that a group is collectively more intelligent than the most intelligent individual in the group. It is an interesting theory and has reminded me of some of the theories I've come up with in my life such as:


- If you tell 20-something guys that you take kick boxing class and have always wanted to actually try out the moves you've learned, most will immediately invite you to punch them in the face or stomach

- The more attractive and non-awkward someone was throughout their adolescence, the less original and interesting their personality is when they grow up...this one may be flawed, though, because if it were totally true I would be much cooler now than I am

- If you're in a large group of people between the ages of 17 and 30 and you randomly shout "To the windooooowww," at least 50% of them will respond with "To the wall!" without any other prompting-there's a good chance they'll go even further into the lyrics, depending on the setting

Perhaps my theories aren't as thought provoking or well-supported by empirical research as that book, but I dare you to test them out tell me they don't work.