Bucket List 2014

I recently had a birthday breakfast with a friend who decided to start striking things off of her bucket list as a result of turning another year older.  She and I talked for hours, and she challenged me to create my own bucket list, a challenge she had to repeat after a previous conversation regarding said list showed no results. I'm not a fan of the bucket list.  I pretty much try to live each day as if it was my last. Morbid, I know. Or realistic. Your choice.

Instead of a bucket list, every year I add to my Done It list.  I've posted it here before.  I don't like to feel like I'm bragging. But I'm bragging.

Done It List
I was born.

In three separate instances, broke my nose, arm and paper-cut my eyeball.  Tore my rotator cuff.  Had a benign tumor removed from my neck.

Have visited almost all 50 states. Still on the list-Wisconsin, Idaho, Hawaii and Alaska. Have traveled to Europe and British Columbia, Canada, visiting these European countries: Denmark, Germany, Belgium, Austria, The Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Czech Republic.

Seen and done these things: The Little Mermaid Statue, Berlin Wall, St. Charles Bridge, Bergen Belsen, Mozart's Birthplace, Anne Frank House, Praha Opera House (saw Rigoletto), British Columbian Rain Forests, Bungee Jumped over a river in Canada, flew a Cessna, White water rafted on 6 different rivers, hiked in 12 states and 3 countries, parasailed over Lake Tahoe, rollerbladed at a Vans Skate Park, went camping at the Red River Gorge, Rock Climbed in North Carolina, did a back country trip for 5 days in the woods, flew on a trapeze and performed a catch.

Performed in:
Deadlock (ha), Oklahoma!, Fools, Guys and Dolls, Steel Magnolias, Roads (175 shows), Baby with the Bathwater, Naomi in the Living Room, StoryBox, Standprov, Page to Stage, 3 years of Shadowbox Shows,
A Christmas Carol (2 years), Finalist in a Rock and Roll Karaoke Semi-finals at Roxy's 2 years in a row, Vanities, 3 years of Jove Shows, Beauty and the Beast, Really, Created a two person improv troupe called I'm with Stupid. Ended a two person improv troupe called I'm With Stupid. Karaoke finals at Fosters.
Performed in the Maltz Jupiter Theater's Talent competition, badly. Started my own Improv troupe, The Rejects. Ended my own Improv Troupe, The Rejects.

Performed with-Michael Winslow and Garrett Morris, met Bruce Campbell.
Was in a Duffy’s commercial
Did a crap job in a Labor Finders Training Video

Wrote a Comic book

Was on Burn Notice 3 times.  NECK BOMB!

Went to San Diego ComicCon twice and plan on going again this year.

Was interviewed on a podcast.

Met Christopher Moore. Sent him my web comic. Met Jim Butcher.

Published a web comic. Spoke on a panel at a comic book convention.

Took 2 Stand up Classes. Performed my first routine. And performed at several open mics.

Wrote and Produced 4 shows on my own and donated over $3,000 to Gilda’s Club.

Visited New York City and touristed it up by myself.

Cruised twice to the Bahamas as an adult.

Rappelled off a building for charity.  With a torn rotator cuff.

Went Sky Diving.

Wrote a parody song and performed it at my brother's wedding.

Went Hang Gliding.

Shaved my head for charity.

Bold are things I've done since my last Bucket List post.

What's on your list?

St. Baldrick's and my bald head

It's been a long 5 months of anticipation. I decided, on a whim to raise money for St. Baldrick's by shaving my head. I set the date for St. Patrick's Day, compromising my parents 35 year anniversary. I facebooked. I tweeted. I bombarded. And I had no idea the support that was going to come my way.

Thanksgiving happened, and I had learned that a friend of mine from my Up With People days had a daughter who was fighting cancer. I had already signed up for a fundraiser for Gilda's Club, a charity I have supported for the past few years with shows and jumping off a building. I was set to jump off the building again, but my mind kept drifting to this little girl, with her Iron Man masks and huge smile. I wanted to do something different.  Something to help kids like her.

So, I signed up for St. Baldrick's at midnight after a long day. It was an impulse decision, so I immediately put it out there so I couldn't second guess myself.

It was a slow start. I didn't want to be too pushy. Then I realized I should be pushy.  And my $1,000 goal became $2,000. Then $2,500. Then $3,000. Then $4,000. And people kept donating. And supporting. And messaging me. About their own experiences with family in treatment.  With loss of loved ones.  And each story made me more determined.

The day finally came.  I was good. Fine. Until about noon. Then my stomach dropped. I felt the way I felt before jumping out of a plane. Nerves kicked in. I couldn't breathe.

My co-workers, my mother, and my grandmother talked me down. Grandma flew down from Columbus to cut off my pony tail.  Then we decided to raffle off opportunities to slice one of 6 tails, thus making more money for the charity and involving everyone in the event.  Grandma got to cut the last one. My brother's best friend from high school, Brian, who I've known since I was 14 was the first to be picked.  Then my friend Steve. Then Jason Burgoon, a friend and the husband of Jessica, my sister's best friend, who got to chop off the next tail. Finally, I picked my sister's boyfriend, Nick, who a)is awesome and b)I have a jokey love/hate relationship with (I nicknamed him Doodle after our first meeting).  Grandma cut the last one, gave me a kiss, and then Jen Cross-Van Portfleet (Jess's sister) of Aspen Falls Aveda Salon and Spa did the rest.

As I'm typing, we have raised $5,025 towards childhood cancer research.  THAT IS FREAKING AWESOME AND I HAVE YOU TO THANK!  All of my friends and family have been so wonderful and supportive of not only my fundraising efforts, but of my bald head and me in general.  It's been an incredibly humbling experience, and I am so glad that you all were on this journey with me.

Thank you to a long list of donors, supporters, cheerleaders, and friends.  You guys are the bees!

Ponytails

Before

After

Wig #1

Bah

You know how much it sucks to be the only one of your friends who ever takes the initiative to reach out and plan something?  Or even the only one who checks in with other people?

It sucks.

A lot.

And it's lonely when you decide that it's just too much work to try and make people want to hang out with you.

Friends are stupid.

New Year's Resolutions

1) Travel More.

2) Sell kidney so able to travel more.

3) Move. Anywhere. Now? End of lease? CHANGE IS GOOD.

4) Maybe stay here.  It's safe and I have friends.

5) Stop being wishy washy about resolutions.

6) Go on one date.

7) Try not to judge date too harshly.

8) Eat cookies and drink wine when date is as bad as I assumed it would be.

9) Repeat 6-8. Probably a lot. Until I swear off dating again.

10) Positivity!

Should old acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot

And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll take a cup of kindness yet

For auld lang syne, for auld lang syne

Eff that. And Eff Auld Lang Syne.

Humbug

I love the holidays.  Love them.  As soon as the holiday season starts, I'm hooked.  I decorate.  I plot Christmas gifts. I watch Hallmark and Lifetime holiday films ad nauseum. And I cry. A lot.

It doesn't take much.  A sad moment on a cheesy Joey Lawrence film that starts the sniffles.  A Christmas card.  A photo of kids seeing Santa. Kevin looking cute in his new candy cane bandana.

Nothing feels lonelier than the holidays. I get to spend time with my family and friends, but there's just something missing. Some joy that I'm not able to access.  I find joy in the little moments, but as soon as they pass the shadow appears to eclipse the joy.  Where's the hope, the peace and the joy when I'm back home with my Charlie Brown tree and my television screen?

I'm trying this year.  Trying not to feel lost and forgotten in the hubbub.  But it's very, very hard.  I don't really have anything right now. No improv.  No singing.  No nothing. Maybe that's why I'm doing St. Baldrick's.  To be a part of something. To do something. Anything.

My friends are all just...gone. I'll get a call if they need something. And part of me knows it's probably time to move on. New friends, new place to live. I give it another year before I'm ready. Also, I have a lease.

There's a next thing out there. A solution. I want to do more than this wallowing.  I want to stop feeling like I don't matter. I WANT TO STOP CRYING AT THE DROP OF A SANTA HAT.  I'm crying right now.

This may just be the two Cheryl's cookies talking. I'm gonna go for a bike ride or something. Anything.

"You're not REALLY shaving your head, right?"

Yes.  Yes, I am.

I've been known to do some weird things in my life. Maybe because I went to Europe when I was 18. Maybe cause I've always tried to get past fear, depression, or anxiety. That all changed when I read a post on my Up With People cast page. A Canadian friend posted that she's heard through the grapevine that another cast mate had found out very suddenly that her five year old daughter had a brain tumor.  It's hard to stay in touch with 170 of your closest friends from one of the most amazing years of your life, but I started paying attention. I watched every day for updates, and saw pictures of a beautiful, smiling little girl who was going through such a difficult time with such grace. I cried tears of joy on the day she finished treatment.

And I started thinking.

What can I do? What can I ever do to help someone so far away?

I do weird things for charity.  I created my own comedy show to benefit a cancer charity in Ft. Lauderdale. I jumped off a building for the same charity.  I had a member of the country club I work for come in and talk about an awesome event he participated in with the fire station where he worked.  The firemen shaved their heads. For kids. With cancer.

Sunday night I was sitting on my couch, pondering a next adventure. Would I jump off the building again? Would I plan another event? What could I do?

I made a quick decision and signed up before I could doubt myself.  I secretly have always wanted to experience the freedom of a shaved head. I kept eyes peeled in college for productions of Wit, as I love the show and thought I could be as badass as Emma Thompson with no hair. I registered. I posted on facebook. Added it to my website. And now, I'm blogging about it.

St. Baldricks donates 80% of all moneys raised to juvenile cancer research. 80%. Over 33 million dollars was donated last year alone. It is an amazing organization, and it deserves my support. And my bald head.

I'm nervous, but the support so far has been overwhelming. Yes, I am scared.  Yes, I'm nervous of how my bald head will look. I'm vain enough to worry that I will look like a bald chipmunk with giant, Disney-esque eyeballs and cheeks. But I know that it will be so worth it when I hold up a sign saying hello to Alex as I video my hair falling from my head to the whirring of an electric razor.

Living Single

This morning I woke to sunbeams shining on my face, caressing my cheek with their warmth as birds sang outside my window. I stretched luxuriously, grabbed Kevin's leash, headed down my new stairs and walked with my fuzzball for 40 minutes around a lake. There was a blue heron in flight as we turned the corner. Squirrels chattered at us as we passed. Neighbors said hello as we wandered. He pooped on our next door neighbors patio.  We arrived home, I got ready and arrived at work 10 minutes early. I made coffee for everyone. Then the day got weird, as our catering director got in a shouting match with a nasty member in the hallway outside my door. I gave her brownies. She also asked the mother of the bride at a wedding this past weekend if her daughter was pregnant.  She wasn't.  But I digress.

I'm not sure how, but my perspective has changed in the last few days.  The weekend was filled with stress, disappointment, and delight. Seeing my home come together...seeing Kevin get comfortable with an extra spring in his step from running up and down stairs...feeling my ass muscles hurting as I run up and down the stairs...it's wonderful.  I have cable. I have internet.  I have wireless. I have space.  I have the ability to sit around in my underpants.  I cooked the last two nights.  Not in the underpants. Grease spatter hurts.

I can't figure out how to turn this photo.

I've lived in apartments before.  But never one with this much character and space and potential. I have an office. A little nook where earlier I ordered Kevin's rabies tag while staring at Bruce Campbell's signature on an Army of Darkness poster I've owned since college.  It never seemed to fit. I never seemed to fit.

But I fit here, for now. I started paring down my life before this move, and I feel that the good times are about to start. I've gotten rid of the baggage. I bought new pillows today. PILLOWS. AND A WINE RACK. AND A BASKET. And I've never been more excited about a purchase. This place is me. The new me.  The happy me. The me that loves floral pillows that complement my poppy field poster hanging over my head. The me that loves wine.  And the me that is starting to love me, a little bit more every day.