Daddyism #8

Rabbit Rabbit.

“That’s what we call a rolling stop.”

I’m driving Daddy to pick up his car. I break at a stop sign and continue.

Daddy: Whoa, that was kind of a rolling stop there, wasn’t it?
He says that just about every time he’s in the car with me. I don’t think it’s me.

clueless totally paused

Project Optimism: So, I Lost My Phone

funny-lost-phone-silent-modeFriday after improv, a couple of us went out to karaoke. Since two hours is never enough karaoke, I missed the 1:40 train. So, I was forced to hang out and drink until 4am. Tough times.

Flash forward: I wake up at 5:21 am in Huntington. The train is sitting in the station, empty. Any true Long Islander can tell you what that’s like, and also what happens next: you hear the “Beep Beep Beep” of death, the doors close and you have to frantically fly around the train trying to find a conductor to let you off before you end up at the yard.

This knowledge in mind, I jumped up and fled the train. This was when I lost my phone.

[Read more...]

The Universe Speaks Through Fortune Cookies

What is it about Chinese fortunes? I know they’re meaningless, but if I get a good one, I believe it.

Some time last year, I got the fortune:

Your secret desire to completely
change your life will manifest.

[Read more...]

I’m Going to Take an Annie Hall Quote and Make It Super Depressing

In a deviation from standard procedure, I’m postponing my Project Optimism post until tomorrow. For reasons that will now become apparent.

Yesterday, Tom and I watched Annie Hall for the first time. I know, I’m a comedy writer in New York and I should have seen it long ago. Mistake now corrected.
[Read more...]

Coming Out Irish

Over a year ago, my mom’s friend Aunt Kath did an ancestry search on our family and found out something shocking: we’re Irish.

me with red hair. maybe I should’ve guessed.

[Read more...]

Daddyism #6

Rabbit Rabbit.

“You know what’s good for that? Water.”

Daddy drives me to the library.

Me: Ugh, my eye has been twitching so much lately.

Daddy: You know what’s good for that? Water.

(Substitute “sleep” for “water” 50% of the time, and you’ve got Daddy’s cure for all ailments.)

Alice On The Edge

Another guest post from Alice, my commiserator in commuting…

While living at home has provided some good stepfather/daughter bonding I think I’m letting the commute slowly kill me. First there are the specifics of the LIRR trains themselves. The new ones aren’t awful but the old ones, which seem to be showing up much more frequently and which Jill has discussed here are the worst.

About a month ago I found myself on one where, and this is just my best guess at what happened though the gentleman sitting next to me concurred at the time, the toilet in the bathroom exploded. I did what any sane person with an olfactory sense would do and rushed to the next car at Jamaica, but of course it was packed. And then the doors wouldn’t close and as the prior post described there is a piercing noise that occurs when they go to shut them.

B&T crowd, for sure

B&T crowd, for sure

Another fun fact of this system is that the trains very rarely get you where you need to be when they’re supposed to, regardless of how many times you hear the auto tone voice say “the 7:32 is operating on time.”

Part two of the commuting equation is the people. Now I’ll admit that a few times my faith in humanity has been restored by someone giving me their seat (and no I don’t look pregnant from suburban weight gain) or moved so me and a companion can sit together; but more often they’re pretty much assholes.

There is the guy that shushed Jill and I on a morning train a couple weeks ago. Seriously, like we were in a library, and also like we didn’t know who he was even though he was sitting in front of us. And for the record we were speaking in normal voices about innocuous things.

There are the ones that scream into their cell phones for an hour – I’ve heard all about insurance problems, health issues, bad dates…And of course the ones with no concept of personal space, which is exacerbated when drunk – I’ve been encountering them more and more with the late hours I’ve been at the office. So, I need to figure something out before I become an angry person yelling at innocent young women during rush hour.

…after Alice wrote this, I received the following text from her:

“Gum on arm rest – I hate people”

So that pretty much sums it up.

No Walking

I’m a city girl, ok? Yes, I know that I’ve spent more than half my life in Long Island, but the years I spent in the city were transformative.

no walking thumbnail picture facebook grab this one please

just out in my walking skirt, apparently

Anyway, I’m a city girl and city girls walk places. I mean, we also have the subway and taxis and the ferry and zip cars, but, for the most part, if it’s under a mile and not separated by a body of water, I’m walking. Sometimes even if it’s 2 or 3 miles and I’m not in a rush. Occasionally 5 or 6 miles if I feel like taking a long walk home to Brooklyn.

Even New Yorkers that aren’t big into walking do it more than they think. Here are the basic NYC Walking Rules, as I’ve been able to determine them:

1. Walking 10 or 20 blocks is no big deal. (Equivalent to walking 1 or 2 blocks anywhere else.)

2. If it’s only 1 subway stop, we’re walking.

3. If it’s two avenues, F that. Cab it.

avenues vs blocks

It doesn’t even matter that 10 blocks is farther than 2 avenues.
Avenues are the worst.

4. (Personal rule) If I’m wearing heels, you’d better let me take a cab or I will ruin everyone’s night.

Anyway, the real reason I’m gaining weight is not because I’m married, as Daddy so politely suggested. It’s because I don’t walk as much now that I’m in the suburbs.

As such, I’ve tried turning Huntington into my own little metropolitan center, to the confusion of some most.

For example, I like to go to the library or Starbucks after work sometimes and walk home, at 11pm latest. Daddy doesn’t think I should be walking home so late at night. (Did I not used to live on my own in a slightly shady part of Brooklyn? Just checking.)

And last week, when I actually went out in Huntington for my friends’ birthdays, everyone thought it was weird that I wanted to walk home, even though it was about 3.5 blocks. However, it was 4am, and that cab ride I ended up bumming from Adri was pretty sweet. Hey! We have cabs in Huntington! See? It’s metropolitan after all. Oh wait, but you can’t hail them, so it doesn’t count.

Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be transforming Huntington into a walking culture any time soon. And, let’s be honest, if NYC had ample parking, walking would cease and the median BMI would go up to Philadelphia levels. (No offense, Philly. If I’d said “Houston levels”, you’d know I was exaggerating.)

Our Two-Timing Cat

One day, the neighbor’s cat wanted to come in our house. He didn’t ask, or anything, just shoved his little body in between Tom’s legs and the door. This was the beginning of our love affair.

Daddy said it was ok, so we started seeing each other a couple times a week. Despite his belonging to another family, what we have is real. He usually waits on his porch across the street and comes running when he sees Tom and me get out of the car. We’ve never fed him; he just comes over for lots of attention.

Daddy says his name (from the neighbors) is Fluffy. He’s the only cat I’ve ever met that comes when you call him.

(email readers click to the blog to see the video)

Finally, he worked up the nerve to get in our bed.

I particularly like this shot of the cat sleeping on Tom's PJs

…and made himself at home in Tom’s pajamas

I was sick today and Tom let him in the house before he left for work, so… we slept together. Like a typical philanderer, he was gone before I woke up. (Daddy had stopped home and let him out.)

It’s not the dream pet relationship that I wished for as a little girl, but as I’m a half-grown up right now, it seems to work well to have a half-cat.

Of course, the other day, Tom saw Fluffy coming from a different neighbor’s porch, so we might have to face the fact that our pet is three-timing us.

Blog Sitcom: “Cell Phones In Public”


Commuter train full of tired passengers. There is an ANNOYING GIRL talking loudly and incessantly on her cell phone. We only see the back of her head.

His name’s Josh. He’s really
cute. He kind of looks like
Patrick Dempsey.

Beat. A passenger across the aisle from the girl rolls his eyes.

No! Not “Lover Boy” Patrick
Dempsey! Well, kind of. He’s
kind of like a combination…

A train announcement interrupts the girl’s conversation. She sighs.

This is an announcement from
the Long Island Railroad. Be
train smart. When using your
cell phone…

Ugh, these announcements are
so annoying.

…please be courteous to
passengers around you.

A passenger behind the girl loudly clears his throat.

Sorry, so anyway. He sort of
looks like a combination of
young Patrick Dempsey and old
Patrick Dempsey.

The train comes to a stop. A woman in front of the girl stands up and glances with fascination at the annoying girl, before exiting. The annoying girl sees the woman’s gaze and looks around, confused.

Yeah but anyway, I never get
to see him. It’s kind of like
that episode of Sex & The City…

The train takes off again.

…where Miranda and Steve
couldn’t work their schedules
out because she was a lawyer
and he’s a bartender.

The train begins to slow.

This is Huntington. Huntington,
last stop, last stop. All
passengers must exit here.

Yeah! Almost exactly because,
like, I’m an accountant and
he’s a waiter.

Please take a moment to look
around you, and make sure you
have all your personal belongings…

Ugh! Alright, I better go, Peg.
It’s my stop. I love you!!
Alright, bye.

The girl stands up, puts on her coat, and notices for the first time that most of the train is staring at her. As she turns, reveal: it is our heroine, Jill, slightly younger.

CHYRON – “October, 2007″