Clowns in my Coffee, Clowns in my Coffee

I was awoken by stirring and voices all around me. My eyes opened and quickly shut again and I lay still, breathing rhythmically. Surrounding me, in various stages of morning readiness were three female clowns.

The previous evening came back to me in a slideshow: meeting Maggie and Liz at the airport, climbing into a white van with a man who had a sign bearing my name, and arriving at our hotel, La Casa Sol, in Quito, Ecuador about 30 minutes later.

At the hotel I finally met Dario, the cheerful Italian man I had been exchanging emails with leading up to the trip. Then I was ushered up an M.C Escher painting to my room. In the dim light from the hallway streaming into the pitch black quarters I barely made out the shapes of the roomates who greeted me before I crawled onto my single matttress and passed out.

Now, laying with my eyes squeezed shut against the light I tried to remember my comrades names. Nothing came to mind.Maybe one was named Kate? From their conversation I gathered they all knew one another already... and from their outfits I imagined they had professional clowning experience. The actual adventure of what we were here to do hit my stomach like a flock of angry butterflies carrying sledgehammers. I was in South America with a bunch of clowns and now I was one too.

After assembling my first clown complete with a purple wig to cover my purple hair, I walked downstairs to search for coffee. The kitchen area, like the rest of the hotel was painted in bright, traditional colors. But it was no match for the motley crew it barely contained.

Busting out of all its seams were clowns of all ages and speaking in a manner of all languages. Some of them eating, some of them painting their faces, some of them chatting excitedly to one another about their arrival. I spotted Dario, Maggie and Liz and sought them out, but soon was swept up, hugging and greeting everyone.

When Patch arrived no one changed what they were doing, but his presence was powerful. He is TALL, far taller than I expected him to be, and his energy took up any space that he wasn´t physically occupying, which wasn´t much. "Good morning!" he began bellowing at people, and the clowns nearest to him greeted him with familiar hugs and jokes.

When all the clowns were squeezed into the tiny kitchen, much to amusement of the hotel staff I imagined, Patch began to address us. I recorded this first clowning pep talk on my phone, but the stand out quotations were as follows:

"If you love people, you can´t fail."

"The reason we clown is because the clown can do what normal people can´t do. Don´t think about whether or not something is appropriate. Inappropriate is for normal."

"Clowning is just the trick to get you in the room of a sick person without them calling the nurse."

After our pep talk we were throw into the ring. Coffee cups were set down and we began a clown parade that would end at the nearby children´s hospital, Baca Ortiz. Our manager/wrangler, Pablo, led the way in plain clothes, and we were a sight to behold: a straggling trail of clowns following him down the street accompanied by an accordian and a whistle to keep the beat. He carried an umbrella and an iPhone. We carried bubbles and streamers.

I skipped and waved at everyone we passed. I held hands with my new strange friends and we mirrored one another´s goofy walking.

I was a clown! I was joy! I was happiness! I was light as a feather! And I was wholeheartedly thrilled at how terrifying it was.

You're Doing WHAT??

About a month ago I posted an announcement to Facebook and Twitter that I will be heading to Ecuador to "clown around" with Patch Adams.  But what does that mean?

First of all, some people have told me they had no idea Patch Adams was a real person. He totally is. Some of you may only know of him from the Robin Williams movie that bears his name. That's valid, but the real Patch Adams, MD is alive and well. 

His real name is Hunter and he really, actually, honestly is a medical doctor. He's also a ton of other things including a clown (duh) and a social activist. 

Because of all this, he's one of my heroes. Here's a video of him in 2012 explaining some of what he's all about. 

40 years ago Patch founded the Gesundheit! Institute which is a not-for- profit organization dedicated to holistic healthcare. GI is "based on the belief that one cannot separate the health of the individual from the health of the family, the community, the world, and the health care system itself."(from the Gesundheit! Institute's mission statement.)  GI builds clinics, offers education to healthcare workers, creates orphanages and provides healthcare to tens of thousands of people... some of them all over the world!

Ok. That's awesome. But you're still maybe asking ...why CLOWNS? Why would this man choose clowns, which can be so very creepy? And why would I choose to go be a clown? Isn't this all very silly and whimsical for the sake of whimsy? Not... entirely. 

These "humanitarian clowning trips," are also referred to as Gesundheit Global Outreach (GGO). The whole philosophy boils down to this: individual health is linked to the health of society. The health of society is determined by the health of the individuals within it. You can't 

separate the two. Anyone in the field of community or  public health worth his or her salt will tell you the same. Then- consider that society's health is linked to a ton of other bigger things, like politics and economics and environment. We need to affect changes in those things (in order to change society), in order to promote the health of individuals within that society. And the only way for society to change is for the individuals in the society to change. 

GGO is rooted in the belief that  in order to change society we must befriend one another. Clowning is a unique way to create friendships through play, and silliness and break down social barriers and status differences. Or as GI puts it:

We work closely with community members, seeking understanding which can guide more responsible and precise helping gestures. In clowning, we lovingly disturb the status quo and facilitate creative social change, enabling dialog between those with power and those without (men/women, rich/poor, boss/worker, doctor/patient, prisoner/guard, etc). Through collaborative explorations of local issues and needs with community members, we offer assistance in community projects, and education in health care, political and economic policy.
 (http://www.patchadams.org/Gesundheit_Global_Outreach)

 Got goosebumps yet? I do. And THAT my friends, is what I meant by "clowning around," with Patch Adams! I leave on Sunday the 18th. Feel free to leave words of advice or concern in the comments section, or email me directly, as always!

I'm Back: A Year In Review 3/11-3/12

Oh. Well, hello there, gentle readers. And my brother.
I bet you're wondering where I've been.

I've been here but I've been BUSY!  My last entry was SEPTEMBER in 2011 And let's face it. It was a half hearted attempt at excusing my absence from the blogosphere. Is it still called that? I don't know, who cares, never mind. I'm going to update you on all my favorite things, a few setbacks, and the things I was the most excited about all year. Then it will be like we never parted, and we can pick right back up where we left off.

[Beep bop booooop. Time Machine noises! Beeeoop.]

March 2011: Went to Florida to visit family. Had an incredible time, got a terrible sun burn. Went to Chicago to visit friends. Saw a great show at The Steppenwolf. Introduced new friends to old friends. Sunburn eventually healed.  Hidden Falls had our first "Comedy Lab" run at Improv Boston. I saw Prometheus Bound at the A.R.T OBERON space. My obsession with immersive theatre, the A.R.T and Diane Paulus began the first time I saw Sleep No More, but Prometheus would be the beginning of my obsession with the OBERON space. Later in 2011 I would return to see several other productions there.

April 2011: My first ever paid gig as a motivational speaker. After speaking to the undergrad nursing class at UMass Amherst in January 2011, I was invited back to address the second bachelor students. I wrote about the content of my talk in this blog entry. Around the same time I was included in a very nice article in UMass Amherst Magazine.

May 2011: I had a meeting regarding Gorefest or a rehearsal for Improv Asylum Mainstage almost every night of the week! Boring to write about, no? That's ok. I filled my free time with adventures involving writing, motorcycles and inspiring theatrical productions.

June 2011: In June I entered my very first sporting event: Ruckus, a three mile long race with an intensive integrated obstacle course. I finished close to dead last... in the wave after mine. That's what happens when you don't train for athletic events that you register for on a whim. However, by the end of the day I was muddy and sore and happier than I could ever remember being. Endorphins, go figure. I also got my bicycle fixed in June and began riding it everywhere I could. At the end of June, we had a death in my family, which was sad, but brought a lot of the relatives together in a nice way.

July 2011: As per tradition, I spent the weekend of the fourth with some of my favorite people ever. Ted's parents open their beautiful home in Maine to us each year, and this was no exception. We had an absolutely amazing time. I brought a newish friend with me and was thrilled to see that he got along swimmingly with my gang. Also in July, my best friend from kindergarten got married at the church we grew up in. Our new mainstage review:  Life Before Sext opened at Improv Asylum, which meant rehearsals slowly drew to a close. And Laura Clark and I finalized our script for Gorefest 9. With all my new free time Sunday - Wed nights I saw shows, checked out condos (and houseboats!), and had plenty of late night beach adventures in Eastie and beyond.

August 2011:  Even more time in Maine, this time with my college roommate who came East to remember what the ocean smelled like. At my day job I took on the large task of assessing the entire respite aide staff via 1:1 interviews so we could develop a new competency program for CNAs. And, one of THE best things that happened all year.... at the end of August I had the extreme honor of presiding over the state-sanctioned union of two of my best friends, Amy Koske and Mark Teffer. That's right, they weren't married when we all woke up that morning. On top of Mt. Tom, overlooking a lake I said some words, and they made promises. I said more words and they said beautiful things that made everyone laugh and cry. I said one more sentence and they WERE married. Magic!

September 2011: September marked the world debut of the web series I had been diligently working on all summer with Jonathan Katz! Explosion Bus, produced by Tom Snyder, is my first web series AND my first time voicing an animated character. (Very fun, and now in its second season!)

October 2011: I turned 28 years old on the first day of October. I started this blog on my 25th birthday. I could never have imagined all the things I'd write (and not write) about in that time! In October a few other notable things: my friend Colleen tied the knot with her best friend and now-husband. Also Hidden Falls performed at our first out of town festival, in Philadelphia. It was my first ever time renting a hotel room all to myself, the show was amazing and I got to meet my musical improv hero Jill Bernard, in person! At the end of the month my second full length musical was produced at Improv Boston. Co-written by Laura Clark, with music by Melissa Carubia and directed by Bobby Smithney, Gorefest IX: MASSacre General Hospital got some great reviews and made me very happy. Because I took a step back from performing/directing this year I got to actually celebrate Halloween as well!

November 2011:  Hidden Falls got to perform at the New York City Musical Improv Festival right at the beginning of November. The show went well, and it was incredible to be at a festival dedicated solely to musical improv. That same weekend, the UMass School of Nursing honored me with an award. I took a train from NY to Connecticut and drove from Connecticut  to Amherst. Arriving just in time for the ceremony, I gave a short acceptance speech as the 2011 Distinguished Young Alumna of the year. I am the second woman to be awarded this new distinction. It was a true honor to meet past recipients of the (original) Distinguished Alumni award as well as to trade stories with this year's recipient. In other news, I took up a Spanish class at night, and began writing a web series with Laura Clark.

December 2011: December was full of surprises, some good, some bittersweet. I tried some new things... like finally taking a puppet workshop with the one and only Bobby Smithney! I auditioned  and got into a new musical improv group, directed by Bryan Dunn, called B.U.M.P! I celebrated my mother's birthday with her! At the end of the month, Norm Laviolette and I had a meeting at Cafe Graffiti. The outcome of the meeting was this:  I would not be taking a position on the cast for the upcoming mainstage production. We decided not to consider this a true "retirement," as they would like me to come back on a future cast. In the meantime, Norm told me, I would still be counted on for corporate gigs and he hoped I would continue writing and pitching ideas for other show slots at the theater. "You have two theaters in this city with their doors open to whatever ideas you have. Not a lot of people can say that."

January 2012: Like the four years past, I rang in the New Year with shows at Improv Asylum. A few weeks later, not only did I leave the IA Mainstage cast but Dan Faneuf and Jane Blaney both performed their final (retirement) shows. It felt like every single week we were staying up all night to say nice things about each other. It was beautiful and sweet, but a huge relief once it was all behind us. Also in January, about one week in, I got hit by a pick-up truck on the way to work. Thankfully, he had put his brakes on. Also thankfully, I was all bundled up for a snowstorm and when I hit the pavement I didn't suffer too much damage. Also ALSO in January I began rehearsals for B.U.M.P, and continued rehearsals with Hidden Falls. My Sundays became entirely dedicated to musical improv. My passion for improv, which had begun to dip recently, was rejuvenated. It was like magic. Or crack. I couldn't get enough make em ups.

February 2012:  Early in the month I dyed my hair bright purple, the same shade it was back in college before the School of Nursing insisted I knock it off. This gesture was exactly what I needed to chase the winter doldrums away. 28 years old and still classy. Also early in February, B.U.M.P debuted at the 10p Thursday slot at Improv Asylum and was an instant hit! Meanwhile, Hidden Falls had landed a second comedy lab slot at Improv Boston on Wednesdays so that started up the very same week! Also, Explosion Bus began recording episodes of Season Two.

March 2012: That's right now! So instead of recapping it, I'm just going to restart my blog. Ok? Ok. Let's do this.

Classic Water

I had an intensive creative period during the spring.

 I was writing and rehearsing for Improv Asylum's Life Before Sext which you can now catch Thursday through Saturday nights at Improv Asylum in the North End. at the same time, I was recording the Explosion Bus web series with Jonathan Katz, which you can start watching on Sept 13th. Also, I had the pleasure of co-writing my second Gorefest script. This time I teamed up with Laura Clark of Improv Boston to create a creepy and disgusting muscial medical horror show entitled Gorefest IX: MASSacre General Hospital. The show opens October 10th but you can already buy tickets online. After such a busy spring, I really didn't do a lot of writing this summer, including, as my brother continues to point out, in my blog(s).

Since yesterday was Labor Day I figured I would reshare my favorite David Berman poem and consider this the official start of my beginning to blog again. Here we go.

"Classic Water"

I remember Kitty saying we shared a deep longing for

the consolation prize, laughing as we rinsed the stagecoach.

I remember the night we camped out

and I heard her whisper

"think of me as a place" from her sleeping bag

with the centaur print.

I remember being in her father's basement workshop

when we picked up an unknown man sobbing

over the shortwave radio

and the night we got so high we convinced ourselves

that the road was a hologram projected by the headlight beams.

I remember how she would always get everyone to vote

on what we should do next and the time she said

"all water is classic water" and shyly turned her face away.

At volleyball games her parents sat in the bleachers

like ambassadors from Indiana in all their midwestern schmaltz.

She was destroyed when they were busted for operating

a private judicial system within U.S. borders.

Sometimes I'm awakened in the middle of the night

by the clatter of a room service cart and I think back on Kitty.

Those summer evenings by the government lake,

talking about the paradox of multiple Santas

or how it felt to have your heart broken.

I still get a hollow feeling on Labor Day when the summer ends

and I remember how I would always refer to her boyfriends

as what's-his-face, which was wrong of me and I'd like

to apologize to those guys right now, wherever they are:

No one deserves to be called what's-his-face.

Explosion Bus

Hey Everyone!
 I recently recorded Season 1 of this new animated web series with <namedropping> Jonathan Katz called Explosion Bus!
Here is a letter from our producer, the one and only Tom Snyder. </ namedropping>.

Explosion Bus

(The world's last animated hope)

Premiering on September 13, 2011 at explosionbus.com

"This exciting new full-length web series will no doubt be referred to, in the future, as the first web series to make grown TV executives cry."   -  Me (Tom) 2011

Dear Friends,

Twenty years ago, a dream came true when I got to work with Jonathan Katz on our first TV show together. Before then, I would force my wife to watch endless VHS clips of Jon. Five years later, Jon and I were startled to be collaborating with Tom Leopold, often labeled 'the funniest guy in America'. Ever since, the three of us have been inseparable, unless we're apart.

A little over a year ago, production began on Explosion Bus, a 4-season, animated epic starring these two brilliant guys. I created this show, hopefully like no other, expressly for Internet broadcast.  Here are a few of its important and unique aspects:

• None of the cast, which includes many brilliant local actors, are exposed to the script until moments before their lines are performed. They find out what is in store for their character as the scene develops. Their performances are 'in the instant'.
• Our animators, the spectacular artistic director Robert Keough and the smartest artist in the East, Steve Davies, are not given post-production ‘notes’, the bane of an animator’s existence. This is unheard of in the business. (Ask any animator.) Bob and Steve know better than anyone what this world should look like. They are the visual artists.

Back to those local actors, and by local I mean Boston and New York...  They all have spent many hours alone in sound booths, without proper ventilation, learning a new meaning of the word 'flexible'. They have each invented their characters, and there ain't a one of them that you won't love. Misch Whitaker, Megan Goltermann, Chris Cook, Jonathan Wilson, Ahna Tessler, Jayson James and Dan Weber have over a billion combined hours of stage appearance, and one of them slightly more.

Explosion Bus also includes amateur and professional performers who audition their acts as part of our animated show. We find them across the land through Craigslist. They are fearless, and generous and talented. We are deeply indebted to these wonderful people, young and old.

Want to find out what it is really all about?

Please visit our web site at explosionbus.com where you will find some fun, pre-launch stuff: trailers, interviews, shopping, etc. And on Tuesday, September 13th at 8:30 PM , it is there that you will watch Episode One of Explosion Bus. We firmly believe that we have the best time slot on the internet!

Til we meet again,
Tom Snyder

Improv: the Cult

I just finished reading Tina Fey's new book Bossypants.

Fey devotes a large portion of the book to discussing improv. It wasn't until I was reading about the culture she found herself immersed in that I realized NOT EVERYONE DOES THIS. I have been taking my role in the improv cult for granted.

I don't ever assume that everyone went to nursing school. Or that everyone else grew up in West Roxbury. Yet I forget that years of rhyming drills weren't part of everyone else's college experience. I forget that not everyone spends their spare time playing make believe. It's easy I guess, because most of my friends have a unique day job that I know little to nothing about, and then at night they do what I do. Everyone I associate with has the same basic story that I do about finding and falling in love with improv. We don't have to talk about it, because although we went through it separately it was a shared experience. It's just what we all did, and what we all do. I'm not talking about being part of a show-biz social circle, although at there is certainly some overlap. I'm not even talking about belonging to the "theater kid" clique, although I have those groups of friends as well. Improv ingrains itself into you in ways you don't even consciously realize. To quote Tina Fey exactly: "studying improv literally changed my life."

I once posted a piece about what it means to apply the rules of improv in a medical workplace. This was a response piece to Liz Caradonna's blog post about the benefits of having a trainer improviser in the office workplace: Beyond the Funny.

When I joined The Yellow Submarines in high school, I had no way of knowing I was beginning a life long journey down a new way of life. I don't care that it sounds over dramatic to you. It isn't.

The Subs and I watched Whose Line is It Anyway (the British version) and thought "we can do that." So we did- learning and perfecting short form games each week. We went to see shows at Improv Boston and Improv Asylum, idolizing grown ups who had somehow made improv their livelihood.*  Still, improv was just a game to me until I auditioned into Mission:IMPROVable at UMass.

My time in Mission was the most serious I have ever been about  improv. We rehearsed three times a week. We had a show every Saturday. If you could not make all three rehearsals, you couldn't perform in the show on Saturday. If you missed too many rehearsals a semester, the director would talk with you about your commitment to the group. We hired alumni to come back and give workshops. We raised money and went to Chicago every year on Spring Break to see shows and take workshops  at iO and The Annoyance. We did corporate shows, and college road shows during the school year. In the summer time we played at birthday parties for friends, and tried to busk on the streets of Boston.

We used to do a warm up called "Yes, Let's" and the attitude behind the game permeated our performances and our friendships. Want to make up new structures on stage, with a live audience? Yes, let's. Want to try to do an entire show backwards?  Yes, let's. We failed sometimes, but that was half the game. the other half of the time we were brilliant. We were fearless in our love of the art.

By the end of sophomore year with only a handful of  exceptions, EVERYONE I interacted with on any kind of regular basis was an improviser. My friends. My roommates. The guys I dated. When I left college I was more concerned with what I was going to do for my last show with Mission than I was with any other part of graduating.

My social circles now are slightly more diverse by virtue of my job, but not by much.  My involvement in the Improv Boston community as well as my role at Improv Asylum see to that. Plus, most of my best friends from Mission are still in touch, some on a weekly basis.

So I really do forget that not everyone knows how to hold an "object work" coffee cup,  and that not everyone knows cares what a "Harold" is. Most of my coworkers during the day won't "mirror"  funny voices and don't "yes and," jokes. Instead they laugh and then ask me how my stand up is going and if this is part of my routine.

Sometimes I wonder what I'll do when I eventually move on from Improv Asylum. Until I read Bossypants it was easy to imagine that I might just retire. Try something new entirely. But now I know that even if I took a break from performing for a while (which, to quell any rumors before they start, is not my plan), I would never, ever be able to leave the cult. You take it all with you. Like a language that you never forget how to speak, like your handwriting but when you're not thinking making it neat, like the side you sleep on in your bed when no one else is there. It's just who you are.

Enough

Interesting coincidence in The Telegraph  as I browsed through my Google Reader, catching up on a week's worth of writing from some of my favorites.

I've thought about getting a tattoo on and off for the past few years. One design that I absolutely can't shake is the word "satis." It's Latin for "enough."

I love the word "enough" for its dual connotations. It can mean being comfortably satisfied or can insinuate  the breaking point. (Who, while bickering with their sibling,  hasn't heard their mother scream "Enough! Knock it off."?) I love the idea of a reminder that I do not need anything more because my cup is full. Satis. I also enjoy the reminder to not put up with a lot of bullshit. "That's enough of that," my little tattoo will remind me. Satis.

And in this recent blog post Stephen Hough voices his love of the word "enough," for most of the same reasons I do.

Maybe we should get matching tattoos, Mr. Hough!

Finding Your Niche

Today I am going out to UMass Amherst to address the second bachelor students. I went and spoke to the undergrad nursing class in January and it was a huge success. What am I going to talk about? I'm going to talk about figuring out what kind of nurse you are, and creating a role for yourself in the world that fits that person.

My involvement in coming to speak to the school of nursing is the stuff of fairy tales for me. I was well known in the School of Nursing, and mostly well liked. However, since I was not a traditional nursing student, not many of my professors expected I would become a nurse.  In fact, when I graduated, they didn't read off a hospital after my name, which is what typically happens.
 "J. Jones, Cooley Dickinson, Northampton, Ma.  A. Morrison, Children's Hospital, Boston."

For me they read, "M.Whitaker... (loooong pause) will be... will be performing at Improv Asylum in Boston," because I had just made the NXT cast and that's what I wrote on my graduation information sheet.

So when they invited me back to speak to young impressionable students... that amazed me. It still amazes me.  I always fantasized I would have a chance to tell my story to people it might matter to. And now I am being given that chance.

Nursing school was difficult. Not because I wasn't great at memorization, cramming, or writing 20 page papers the night before they were due. Boston Latin School taught me all that a long time ago.

No, nursing was difficult because I was trapped between two worlds. Comedy and Nursing. Theater and Medicine. Art and Pragmatism. Doing both made sense to me, but it made little sense to many of my professors.

In fact, I had one clinical instructor who, on a weekly basis would take me aside and ask if I had quit Mission:IMPROVable yet. I hadn't. I had been in the group for four years before she met me, I explained. I planned on doing improv professionally later on, I told her. And so long as it didn't effect my grades, it was really none of her business. Even as I pulled in a steady line of "A"s on my papers, tests and care plans these little side bars continued because "comedy just isn't an appropriate hobby for a nurse."

This is what I looked like sophomore year of Nursing School.
I wouldn't have placed bets on me getting an RN either.

Meanwhile, I was fighting some personal battles. My father had passed away at the beginning of sophomore year and my mother was/ is unable to work. I was newly financially responsible but couldn't qualify for aid because they assuming my mom could throw some of Dad's pension my way, which she couldn't actually afford to do. So I had taken out a loan and was working as hard as I could without quitting improv. Often I was coming to school not having slept at all because I had to work overnight shifts to make money.

One morning, my white sneakers split in half after being on my feet all night. The next morning I pulled on my green high tops and went to my clinical in West Springfield where I was shadowing a school nurse at a local high school. We had been working together for a few weeks and she had already commented that I could relax the school uniform so I went in and everything was fine. The next week I still hadn't replaced the shoes because I needed to wait for my next paycheck. Unfortunately, this was the day my UMass clinical instructor decided to visit me at the clinical site. She took me into the back room, where we let girls who say they have cramps lie down when they want to skip gym.

I stared a a poster on the wall of "100 Things To Do Instead of Smoking," and listened as my instructor told me that I was the reason people don't take nurses seriously. I thought about all the nurses in the world wearing teddy bear scrub tops and tried not to open my mouth. She told me the next time I came in I better have white shoes. I told her the truth. That I couldn't afford them right now.

"Don't you have parents?" she asked.
"I have one," I answered, daring her to go further. Which she did.

A verbal fight ensued. In the end, I won. But not before some terrible things were said on both sides. She insulted my family. I threatened to take it to the Dean. I'm amazed she passed me that semester. But she did. Green high tops, sassy back-talk and all.

Those stories are just two examples. There were a million reasons I hated nursing. I wanted to quit, but I have never been a quitter. I have never walked away from something just because it's hard.  I was good at the technical skills, and I got good grades on every care plan. The only thing that was hard, it seemed, was being accepted by other nurses. I just didn't fit in. Maybe it was enough, I thought, just to know I could have gone into nursing. 

The person who finally got through to me was Jennifer Foster. She taught Culture and Anthropology. She had traveled the whole world. She wore funky clothes.  When I mentioned to her that I was probably leaving the school of nursing she listened carefully and then said simply, "don't."  I'm paraphrasing here but she told me, "you don't hate nursing. You hate the culture of nursing school. When you leave here you choose what you want to do, and the people you will do it with. You will find your niche. The nursing world needs more nurses who are like you. Because only you will fill that niche. Don't forget that."

I didn't forget that.

When I spoke to the students last winter I told them that one of the most important things they could do for themselves was remember that they are free to NOT take advice. They do not have to listen to people who tell them to quit something they love. By the same token, they also do not have to listen to me.

 Everyone on my path was trying to do something good for me. The woman who hated comedy wanted me to be a successful (and published) psych nurse. She was giving me advice from that lens. The woman who hated my shoes wanted me to be taken seriously, and she was worried I wouldn't be. It made her say some very mean things, but it had originated from a helpful place. But I was free to politely disagree with them. As soon as you figure out that you are free to NOT take advice, life gets a lot easier. It really frees you up to set goals and then systematically pursue them. Or you know, float through life on whimsy like I do, accidentally landing both my dream jobs in one year. Whatever works for you.

I received a lot of emails afterwards thanking me. A lot of students said they were glad someone had the courage to say the things I said. Some of them said they also had been thinking about quitting because they don't feel like they fit the "nursing mold."  They felt better now. I felt better too. Telling all the stories about nursing school helped me let go of my anger.

So, I found my Niche. Obviously. But the thing about Niches is that, sometimes they change too. If they didn't I'd still be teaching theater at a Montessori. That was perfect for a while, but then it wasn't anymore.  I'm going to add that to my speech today.  You have to continue to be aware of yourself, reevaluate your goals and your dreams and then keep carving away at your place in the world. Because for a room full of intelligent, dedicated, passionate people there's absolutely no excuse not to do what you love.

mutated marine life

For the past month or so, I've started posting riddles for my patients to think about while they're in line for their medications. I write a riddle every morning at whatever medication station I'm working at.
When a bunch of patients have gotten the riddle I change it up.

The other day I wrote,
"It has holes in the bottom, holes in the top, and holes along the sides. But it still holds water. What is it?"

One of my young guys approached the counter.

"It's not a fish is it?"

"No," I told him, smiling.

"Is it an octopus?"

"Since when does an octopus have holes in the top and sides?" I asked.

"A chernobyl octopus!"



So that's the new answer to the riddle. Because "sponge" is a lot less funny.

Happy Easter! love, the 80's!

I actually have a copy of this commercial on a VHS copy of the stage production of Peter Pan with Mary Martin which aired on NBC one year. I have no idea if it aired every year or what, because once I had it on VHS I watched it approximately every single day for the rest of my life. 

Easter Tridium

Easter is almost here, and that means the end of Lent, for which I am always eternally grateful because Lent is the gloomiest season of all in the church. 

I didn't go to church on Holy Thursday this year because I was scheduled for shows. I didn't think I would mind, but I did. Mostly because in the past year I found a church community that takes the feet washing to a new level. That may seem weird and uncomfortable to some people, but it's exactly the hands-on version of Catholic theology that I relate to so well. 

"You're not a real Catholic," Jeremy said recently with an air of surprise, "you're like a strange Christian- hippie hybrid." *

I guess I am. It doesn't help (or should I say that it doesn't hurt?) that during Lent this year instead of revisiting The Devout Life by St. Francis de Sales, (as I have done in years past) I instead read:

- If God is Love, Phillip Gulley and Jim Mulholland

- If the Church Were Christian: Rediscovering the Values of Jesus,  Phillip Gulley

and excerpts from 

- The Women's Bible, Elizabeth Cady Stanton 

 Throughout the years I have had periods in which I have taken great comfort and pride in the church. I have also had periods, difficult to shake, where I am embarrassed, ashamed, saddened and troubled by the church.   But I've always retained my membership. I've never not been Catholic. The same is true now.  Although, now I am more comfortable than I have ever been just defining myself as a Christian-Catholic Hybrid. **

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* This is because I told Jeremy I like to pray in the woods. He doesn't even know about the feet washing.

** If we have to have definitions. Which we don't. Because that's, like, just The Man trying to keep you down.  Let's go burn our draft cards. And our bras. And the tip of this joint. 

In Print!

 UMass Amherst Magazine was Boston themed this month.
 As such, they ran a story by Patricia Sullivan about Improv Asylum.
 The piece features me, Norm Laviolette and Jeremy Brothers because we're all hi-larious UMass alumni.
You can check it out here. Personally, I think she captured us perfectly.

Expiration Date

I bought orange juice in November. I was sick; thought some juice would make me feel better. For some reason, however, I never opened the juice. I never unscrewed the cap, and more importantly, I never popped the inner seal.

This past week I decided to clean out the contents of the refrigerator. As I tossed aside forgotten leftovers and a half rotten bag of spinach, I came across the OJ, tucked in the very back of the fridge next to a tin of maple syrup.

The stamp on the carton read Nov 29 10. Curious, I shook the carton and then opened it up. I poured myself a glass and took a whiff. Orangey. The juice was the color of its parent fruit, without any sign of mold or rot. I drank three glasses of it as I finished the rest of my work. The next day, because I saw no problem with it, I finished the rest of the carton.

My little experiment's results didn't surprise me. I tend to be lax with expiration dates. Unlike the well meaning friend who once tried to dash the pills out of my hand once she saw the Tylenol had expired, I think of the tiny numbers as more of a suggestion than a rule.

This attitude was definitely something I learned as a child. In his copy of "Dad's Own Cookbook", my father found a chart of how long food can last when properly stored. He made a photocopy of it and it hung on our refrigerator as a guideline. The book, which I now have in my own kitchen, has this to say about hot dogs for example:
- opened package: one week
- unopened package: two weeks
- in a freezer and wrapped: 1-2 months

WebMD offers similarly practical advice in this feature article, as well as a guide to interpreting the difference between things like "sell by," and "best if used by" labels.*

On my lunch break at work while trying to get updates about the weather I stumbled on an article on Boston.com's home page about exactly this issue.

The article raised an interesting point - regardless of whether  individuals choose to take a risks on an "expired" product or not, is it ethical (or legal) for schools or prisons to use foods which are past their dates.

Ah, So. The rub. I don't mind eating yogurt that's a week past its due date after I spot check it. What's more, after looking at it and smelling it, if I saw nothing wrong with it I would even give it to my own mother! But the question remains: would I want it dispensed sight unseen in a school? In a hospital? In a prison?

 There is so much food wasted in this country every single day.  In college I waited tables in the dining room of an Assisted Living Home for a while. At the end of the shift, I watched as entire pots of soup, plates of steak, steamed veggies were thrown into the dumpster. I begged the chef to let me take the wasted food at the end of the day to a local Soup Kitchen. "I'll do it myself," I said. "I'll come in on my nights off to pick it up as well." I imagined recruiting friends. We'd truck it over in backseats of our cars each night before the kitchen closed.

He smiled sadly at my idealism and then dismissed it. "We can't," he said. "The food wasn't kept on warmers. It can begin growing bacteria as it cools. As a chef, I simply couldn't allow people to eat that food. If they got sick..." He trailed off leaving me to my disappointment. It was one of my first lessons in the complexity of Hunger as one of those Big World Issues. Some people have more food than they need. Others have none. But sharing might be dangerous, so throw all the pot roast away.

So what about food BEFORE it is cooked? Do we have to throw that away too? Based on the voluntary dates that have been chosen arbitrarily in some cases and conservatively in almost all cases? what about milk in sealed bottles? Meat in its plastic sheath packing? What about canned goods, frozen foods, and rice in closed boxes?

Personally, I am not scandalized by the idea that prisons, schools, or even hospitals use food past the labeled "date," as long as the decisions to use the foods remain informed. Kitchen staff should have a knowledge of basic food safety and access to guidelines about the life expectancy of properly stored foods. They should be empowered by their direct supervisors to question stock based on what it looks like or smells like when they open it. The way anyone would do when cooking for themselves or a family member.

Also in college, under the tutelage of some Freegan friends I learned to harvest foods from dumpsters just after the local super market tossed away the day's produce. To this day, I don't see this as being much different from my Farmers Market strategy.** One of my favorite things to do then was to stake out the  Dunkin Donuts on Rt 9 near Spirit Haus.They didn't put trash in with their donuts. Just bagged up the donuts and tossed them away at 11pm. Sometimes they would just hand them off, all bagged up like that. The donuts had reached their "expiration time," and could no longer be sold to customers.

But they were still good. Believe me.

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*At this point I'd like to smugly point out that WebMD says that food which is frozen is "safe indefinitely," which I tried to explain to a roommate recently when he wanted me to toss three perfectly good boxes of veggie burgers.
** The trick is to show up at Haymarket just as things are shutting down. When I've timed it right, I was able to  buy bags and bags of fruits for a mere fraction of the price they fetched all day.

My brother always asks me about my blog before he asks about my job.

My last blog entry is dated March 17th and that makes sense. The very next day my landlord began construction on my bathroom. Since I was staying with friends/ showering at the gym, I did not have a ton of time to update the blog. The renovations took a week, and after that I began using my days off to travel. I hit New York City, Tampa, Sarasota and Chicago all within the past couple of weeks. At a time when I should have been blogging MORE so I could share all the amazing things I've been doing, I scrapped public writing off the priority list altogether in favor of keeping a personal journal.

Je ne regrette rien. Seriously.

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, marking the beginning of Holy Week. Alas, this too means writing may be scarce for the next few days as I try to spend some extra time in contemplation. But never fear, writing will once again be a priority as of next week as I shed my wool coat for a denim jacket and trade vanilla chai lattes for iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts.

Black Velvet Band

Hidden Falls

Just a reminder about tonight...
Remember to purchase tickets online for the "Comedy Lab" show.

Hidden Falls: The Musical

Wednesday Nights in March

8pm at Improv Boston

In this 40 minute long improvised musical, actors will create the town of 

"Hidden Falls," anew based on audience input at the top of each show.

Through song and scene we'll discover the people who make up the town, 

and the dreams and desires that make up those people.

Because it's completely improvised, no two shows will be alike!

Buy tickets online for one or more performances.

 Part of Improv Boston's Wednesday night Comedy Lab series.

Director: Steve Gilbane

Piano: Steve Gilbane

Percussion: Jeff Greenwald

Featuring: Jaime Church, Mat Gagne, Don Schuerman, Ben Scurria,  Monica Shea, Deanna Tolliver, and Misch Whitaker

House Guest

In the morning on Friday I lay in bed checking my email until I heard Liz bustling about in my living room. When I opened the door she greeted me with wet hair, clean clothes and a cry of "You're alive! And your hair is..."

My hair was standing on end from the night before. I grunted at her and she replied, "you're out of toilet paper, you know."

I laughed and pointed to a roll I had been keeping in my room. "Secret toilet paper."

She laughed and said, "I should have known. I woke up this morning and went to use your bathroom but I noticed you didn't have any toilet paper. I looked around, figuring you had some in the bathroom and found NOTHING.

"Then I looked for paper towels. None. Napkins? None. Coffee filters?"

"I have coffee filters."

"I couldn't find them. I went through your kitchen, bathroom and pantry wondering where you might have hidden  toilet paper, or an appropriate substitute. Nothing.

"And then I thought - well time to take a shower!"

Three Hole Punch at WICF

"We met in college," is one way to describe what happened at the birth of Three Hole Punch.
 Tonight the girls are (literally) back in town and we're going to harness the forces of our collective quirk!
Three Hole Punch has dabbled in sketch, organic bullshit, interactive performance art, and  musical improv. But tonight we will bring you our long form, showing off what we do best: making stuff up.

It's all part of the Women in Comedy Festival which continues tonight at Improv Boston's mainstage, Improv Boston's studio space as well as Mottely's Comedy Club.

Check out the full schedule here.

My recommendations:

7pm on the Mainstage and in the Studio: Comedy All-Stars: This is the improv show that Rachel Dratch will be guest appearing in. If it's sold out consider buying half-price tickets to attend the SIMULCAST in the Improv Boston studio.

9pm in the Studio: The United Front of Improv Comedy. Catch Three Hole Punch doing our thang as part of this shared time slot. Also see some of my favorite local comedians in Reunion and Michelle and Micah.

10pm on the Mainstage: Comedy Spectacular includes the rapping improv group North Coast from UCB. (I don't know about you but I haven't heard Rachel Rosenthal rap nearly enough since she left Improv Boston to become a fancy New Yorker.)

Women in Comedy Festival Opens Tonight!

I am geeking out about the Women in Comedy Festival, and you should too.

Tonight kicks off the first evening of five nights of bold, new comedy from local and visiting artists.

At 7pm tonight join us at Improv Boston for  "The Monsters of Improv" to see a double header: Improv Boston Artistic Director Presents back to back with The Women of Improv Asylum.


I'll be performing tonight as a "woman of Improv Asylum," but you can also catch me the rest of the weekend in a couple other sets as well.

But I'm not the reason you should come to this.
You should come to this because the line up is incredible, and that includes both shows and  workshops.
The Women in Comedy Festival has multiple venues, so check out the schedule for the entire weekend, and start buying tickets!

And in case you missed the news, the headliners this year include Jen Kirkman, Kurt and Kristen, and Morgan Murphy as well as a special guest appearance on Friday night at 7pm by Rachel Dratch.

How are you not building a time machine to go to there already?

See you all tonight at Monsters of Improv!

Women in Comedy Festival (WICF) 2011 Trailer from WICF 2011 on Vimeo

A Sensation Like Pressure

Due to some unfortunate events at work and in my family, my writing has been spotty.
Updates will begin again soon.

Meanwhile, I finally broke down and bought a Kindle. For a year I've had friends pushing me in that direction with cries of "but you like to read so much!"  So many factors went into this decision, including the realization that I would really love to carry some nursing reference books with me to have at work (yeah, I'm a nerd, get over it), and finally acknowledging just how quickly I go through books when I'm on vacation.

 But here's what pushed me over the edge: My friend John blogged about Instapaper. Like John, I already have a Google Reader feed which shows me the latest entries in all the blogs I subscribe to. But Instapaper lets me click a button in my toolbar and archive isolated articles to read later on. I can do this for articles in my Google Reader feed but also for links sent to me through email, or that show up on my Twitter or Facebook feed but that I don't have time to read right away. Then they show up (ad free) on my computer. Then I can drag them onto a Kindle or have them wired there for a small fee. Now I can take it all with me, and I do.

In the meantime please enjoy some suggestions for your reading enjoyment.
You can read them now, or you can Instapaper them for later. (Amazing, right?)

1. Nurse K rants about ER violence and delegation. Nurses everywhere swoon for her logic. Or fear her.
2. My friend Lynn Wilcott wrote this piece on the impending cuts to funding for Planned Parenthood. Dan Savage of Savage Love fame reblogged it because it's so good. Lighthearted but with a serious message.
3. This one's not as lighthearted, but it's a solid medical economics piece that anyone can wrap their mind around. Dr. Atul Gawande discusses how to lower overall health care costs by creating better care for those who use the health system the most.
4. And this one, also from John Perich's blog, I am including with a sly dedication to my "baby" brother who is interviewing for a new job this week. Good luck, kiddo.