Saturday, October 31, 2009

Abra Cadabra!

When I was little, I had a thing for witches. I don't think I was weird - I just liked reading stories about them and watching movies about them. Like "The Wizard of Oz" and "Hocus Pocus." Who doesn't like those movies? My generation grew up on "Hocus Pocus." I read little chapter books about witches and girls who had clubs that did witchcraft. Still not weird - I'm not the one writing them. In high school, "Wicked" became my new favorite musical. And I did a term paper (or two) on the Salem witch trials. (Ok, now doing the writing.) I was so excited to take my first trip to Salem junior year - and then incredibly disappointed when nothing spooky or spectactular happened there. It was actually a little boring. And I love field trips! I guess I thought my witchy powers would come to life while I was there. I'd discover I could pause time, and fly, and cast spells for good luck. The forcs had been waiting for the day I went to Salem to reveal to me that I was the real-life Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Ok - I'm pretty convinced I'm not the only one with a witch fetish here. With all these pop culture references and the popularity of Melissa Joan Heart, I'm convinced other people have a thing for witches, too.

And so that is why I have been a witch for about half my Halloweens. The first time my mom drew a little moon and cat in silver glitter glue on my black sweatshirt. One year I had a cape with orange pom-poms on it. One year I got a wicked wicker broom. One year I was a spider witch (yea, just go with it). One year in college I was Glinda, the Good Witch of the North - that counts, too. Some people may think a witch is a cop-op costume considering I wear mostly black on an ordinary day. But I just love dressing up as a witch on Halloween! And despite my affection for my alter ego, every year my friends pressure me to do the same thing, and think really hard to be all creative and come up with a costume that's unique or funny. One year I actually was creative and dressed up for school like a Survivor on Survivor. Although I think it was too cold that night for trick-or-treating in the skimpy shorts, so when I got home from school I changed into the witch. Oh! Last year I was Sarah Palin! Although, some would put her in the witch category, too.

I was struggling again this year coming up with a costume. Tina Fey's Liz Lemon was my forerunner - but she only requires putting on a pair of glasses and wearing my hair in a low bun. I even thought about not dressing up. I'm not anti-Halloween or rebellious in nature, but I just don't get all excited to dress up. Maybe because I'm alwasy playing characters and wearing costumes every time I'm in a play. Or maybe because I'm 24 and Halloween is pretty much a kid's holiday. But then I had an "aha!" moment. A witch is a Halloween icon. A witch is traditional and classic, and something we think of when we think of Halloween. Nobody thinks of Tina Fey! And I figured all I had to do was go out and buy a witch hat. It would be an investment, considering I have no future plans of being anything but a witch for every Halloween for the rest of my life.

I am actually really happy right now that I am dressing up like a witch tonight! Why did I doubt myself? I have green tights and a little black dress and a witches hat with green trim. I didn't even have to buy it - the girl I babysit for gave me her old witches hat. My head is actually smaller than hers. Weird, I know. And I already owned everything else so this recession-friendly costume has cost me: zero dollars! But I'm not going to put green make-up on my face just in case I break out. What if I go through all this effort to greenify my face and tomorrow morning can't get it off? Or I have to scrub really hard and then my face is burnt and red? Or what if it creates a chemical reaciton with my face cream? If I ever go to a really huge costume party with prizes, maybe I'll consider putting on a green face.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Three-Quarters of an Inch is a Big Deal

I used to hate when kids at camp would say they were "11 and 3/4 years old." Or when people say they've lived for New York for "4 and a quarter years." Or friends say they've been dating for "14 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days." Round to the nearest whole number, people! Do we really need to clarify on that extra 1/4 of a year? Well, lately I've found that there is one thing we do have to be that specific with. Our height. Well, specifically, my height.

I am 5 feet, 4 and 3/4 inches.

That is not quite 5'5".

And not as short as 5'4".

And yes - it does matter!

In auditioning for soaps, where people are shorter, I feel like I need to tell them that I'm 5'4" - which sounds a lot shorter than 5'5". But when a casting notice says "medium to tall," I say I'm 5'5" because that sounds a lot taller than just 5'4".

In the winter, when I wear heels or boots a lot more, I tend to round up and lie, saying I'm 5'5". I mean, the heel does add more than that 1/4 inch. But in the summer, wearing flats or sandals, if I say I'm 5'5", people don't quite believe me. "Really?" They say. Well, no, actually I am 5'4". ...and a liar.

I never say that I'm 5' 4 3/4" because that sounds ridiculous. But it is the truth. Whenever I slip and tell the truth, people look at me like I'm pretentious. "Oh really, the three-quarters-of-an-inch really makes a difference?," they challenge. In an effort to not sound stuck-up, and to save time, I leave out the "three-quarters-of-an-inch" because tacking that onto my height adds an extra split second of conversation with somebody, taking a split second away from all the precious things I have to do in my free time. (Hey, precious seconds - like inches - add up.) I'm either pretentious or a liar. Neither of which are a very good thing.

Oh I have tried to shrink or grow to avoid this dilemma I face daily. But I am always, absolutely, positively, 100% five feet and four and three-quarters-inches. I know I am this very specific height because my mother is exactly 5'5" and I'm shorter than her. And my sister Kristen is exactly 5'4" and I'm taller than her. My mom can reach more things than I can, like change higher lightbulbs than me. So I know I'm not quite 5'5". And I can reach higher lightbulbs than my sister, which makes me taller than 5'4"!

I used to love rounding up and standing at 5'5." It just sounds more sophisticated. More classy. 5'5" is the first height that's in the category of "above average." Who wouldn't want to be above average? But lately I have been standing at 5'4" because the guy I'm dating is only 5'6." Saying I'm 2 inches shorter than him sounds a lot better than just 1 inch. Or the actual 1 and 1/4 inches. I'm liking 5'4". It's cute. It's ladylike. And it's the average height for a woman. Who wouldn't want to fit in with the rest of the crowd?

Thus my dilemma will live on...I am done growing, so this is just something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life. I guess there are worse things to complain about. But really - from auditioning to dating - it really does matter.

Now excuse me, I have a date with my 5'6" friend. I need to go shrink three-quarters of an inch...

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Commencement Speech

Dear Graduates of the Class of 2009 – SURPRISE!

My younger sister is graduating from college today. It is a significant and emotional day, full of joy and pride. The culmination and celebration of 21 years of a hopeful childhood, 16 years of successful schooling, 4 years of memorable all-nighters and one-night stands – and 0 years of preparation for what she is actually about to face.

Before my college graduation, nobody told me that all those years of hard-work and achievement would amount to not much more than over $60,000 in school loans and a babysitting-job. I got an expensive college education, why? To pursue my childhood dream with baby spit-up on my shirt sleeve? You hardly need Probability & Statistics 101 to prepare you for that. The only stat worth knowing is this: 2 million recent college graduates are unemployed, which is twice the amount more than last year’s bunch. It’s predicted that companies will hire 22 percent fewer graduating seniors than they did last year. And that’s coming straight from the National Association of Colleges and Employers. Katie Couric told me so.

Dear graduates, let me tell you now, because it’s better late than never, that what you are about to embark on isn’t as exciting as they’ve cracked it up to be. Sometimes the most exciting part of my day is making a really good sandwich for lunch. If you haven’t yet seen it, watch Dustin Hoffman in 'The Graduate. ' It won’t provide you with any answers or life-altering revelations. It’ll just reassure you that it is in fact okay to waste the summer away in your parent’s pool.

Four years ago, you set foot on this campus ready to embrace what you were told would be the best 4 years of your life, eagerly asking yourself: “What should my major be?” “Will I make my lifetime friends here?” and “Will I meet my future husband here?” If only someone told you at that moment: “It doesn’t matter what your major is because you won’t find your first job in that field anyway.” “Friends come and go quicker than spinach-artichoke dip on the appetizer table.” and “No you will not meet your husband now because 20-something men are afraid of commitment.”

Dear graduates, this is the last time for a while that you will be honored and awarded for an accomplishment. From here on out, success is not measured on a timeline. There are no end-of semester deadlines to bookmark our life and there are no end-of-semester grades to chart our progress. Instead, our life will be measured as the musical 'Rent' poetically informs us: in seasons of love. Isn’t that sweet? Quite honestly, the moment you settle down and accept that...it actually is pretty sweet.

Words of wisdom and advice are going to be thrown at you by the older generations that have survived their quarterlife crisis’s because in their time quarterlife crises’s didn’t even exist. The only piece of advice you really need right now is coming from the Quarterlife Crisis Headquarters – my shoebox New York City apartment – and that is that you will be facing more trouble and uncertainty than you anticipated, therefore the only hope you have is to EMBRACE IT! You might be unemployed, you might be scared and uncertain of your future, you might be missing your friends and you might be overwhelmed with conflicted feelings. I hope you realize that although it might feel surreal, there's also something amazing and magical about the realness of it all. The road might be uncertain, but at least it's yours.

The next few months…hate to say it, but years…will give you lots of lemons. I hope you discover creative and unique ways to drink your lemonade.