Another Original Hinge Date Experience Post

January 1, 2016. 3:15 AM. Village East, New York. It was time to leave the bar.

I said good-bye to my blissfully sequined and merlot-stained lip friends, and wished them a happy new year. Some of them found guys to ring in their new year with, others found a free round of drinks, and I found my way down a strange alley, walking alone and painstakingly sober, in New York City. I hate to admit this, it’s so, dare I say it, “off brand”of me, but it is also “on brand” of me to throw a curveball here and there, so, here it goes….I am a hopeless romantic. There. I said it. I’m secretly Ted Mosby in Barney Stinson clothing. Oh, dear, did I just refer to a show that’s been off the air for 2 years? Am I officially old at 25? God, do I even give a fuck?

What was I saying? Oh, right, I’m a romantic. I admit it. I’m cute like that. I love New Years Eve, and I know I shouldn’t. I love the fashion, the champagne flutes, and Speak Easy accoutrement, and I love the energy of every person wanting to have a good night, and looking forward to what’s ahead.

I also find the midnight kiss incredibly romantic. I’ve never had a romantic midnight kiss. I’ve had broken ankles, fights, or falling tongue-first into someone’s face at midnight — you bet — but a nice, romantic kiss at midnight? Nope. Trust me, I hate myself for wanting such a cliché, meaningless thing, but I want it. Leave it to walking home alone in a smokin’ hot outfit, 4 inch heels, and seeing the New Year’s Eve autopsy of confetti on New York’s lonely streets to make you want a boo ruuuuuul bad.

So, I decided to make more of an “effort” this year, and to let go of my neurotic, over-thinking, anxiety-driven thoughts in the process. I am a dreamer, and I shoot high– I typically fail in some way, and I land where I should be– but I tend to start freaking out right away when my extraordinary expectations aren’t met immediately, and then it just goes up in flames. I have several other ventures I’m working on this year, but this whole “dating thing” will be the most interesting. I have spoken about dating before, and in case you haven’t assumed or heard through the grapevine, I am a doof when it comes to dating. I over-think, freak out, run away at the sign of any problems…you get it. I want to get into casual dating, without so much of the crazy over-thinking. I don’t know if that was possible, but I want to try. It’s what’s “in” right now, anyway, and I have a crumbling brand to uphold.

I’ve heard solid reviews about the dating app Hinge. Nothing great, but nothing bad. It definitely beats the obvious duds like Tinder or Ok Cupid (but OkCupid is hysterical when you get past the horrifying smorgasbord of mental illness du jour). I gave it a go, and I decided to actually message first, since pretty much 98% of the time, nothing amounts from a match anyway. I am not looking for a boyfriend, so why not sift through whatever is out there within a swipe or two? No harm, no foul.

Most of the interactions that come from the man first kept floundering or kept being from people you never wanted to message you in the first place. The whole, “What the hell is wrong with you to make you want to message me, you freak!” thought process plagues me and many of my single friends far and wide. So, I get that my chances would be just as slim when I make my feeble one liner attempt. Once again, I want to go the ever-wonderful “screw it” route. I have nothing to lose, who cares?

I messaged a few people, and a few responded. All of them weird. Oh, well. Then along came a guy with this bio………

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If anyone knows anything about me, I have an odd taste in men. I get so bored so fast, that I love being around strange so I can keep on my toes. That being said, Larry David is precisely my type. To the bowling shirt and corduroy, to the argumentative demeanor and general distaste for all things phony/pretentious, Larry David has it all. I know it sounds like I’m being ironic, but I’m kind of not. I’m maybe 85% kidding. Regardless, I love Larry David types, because they challenge me, they challenge everything, they are always interesting, up for a lively discussion about anything, and, most importantly, they make me laugh. Guys, let me make it clear, there is nothing sexier than a guy who can make you laugh on top of a pile of money. Ha. I kid. If you can make me laugh, like, genuinely laugh, I’m sold. It just so happens I find nerds hysterical, and Larry David is the holy grail of funny nerd. Him and Jon Stewart have my heart.

I wish I had a big, romantic story to explain what compelled me to message Luke, but I do not. I will name him Luke for security purposes. And that is where this super original Hinge story begins.

Here are two nerds flirting with each other online. I am sorry. You won’t ever be able to look at me the same way again.

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So that’s how it started, and a long-winded hinge chat began. There was nothing notable about the conversation; it was no different than any other conversation you have with a blurb on your phone. Then we started realizing we had a lot in common. You know, what typically happens when you get to know someone when you date them. The similarities ranged from broad “physic-reader” guesses to extremely precise. I won’t bother you with the details. A day passed, and it was time for the phone number exchange, and we set up a date.

Before we made a plan to meet up, we discussed what we were looking for, which was pretty much nothing serious. I was not that worried about this date. I was meeting up with a friend. So I went out to a concert, and met up with him in the middle of a street. We agreed he wouldn’t be getting me dinner, so, naturally, we ended up getting dinner at a hipster pizza spot in BK. Casual enough. The night progressed, the conversation was seamless, there were compliments here and there, a flirty remark, then I would eat bread like a dainty little angel and set women back 50 years, repeat. Then we realized that it was closing time. It was 2 AM.

Oh.

Before I even grabbed my wallet, Luke offered to pay. I was just that much of a delight, people! I’m telling ya, I’m not only a treat, I’m also a cheap date. So, of course, major points for Luke. Then we were at a loss as to what to do next. I always tell my dates that I don’t drink. It is a bit forward, but after a couple weird interactions, I have now become so up front to avoid wasting my or the other person’s time. Anyway, we discussed prior to our date that I don’t drink, but we clearly still wanted to hang out. We had to go to a bar. It was a sexy, dive lodge bar, with candles lit and chatter down low. It was *the* place to bring someone on a date. Left Hand Path Bar in Bushwick, I am looking at you, bae!

Anyway, he grabbed a beer, I grabbed a club soda, and we found a quiet corner in the bar.

January 10, 2016. 4:10 AM. Bushwick, Brooklyn. It was time to leave the bar.

We had talked for another 2 hours. Another two whole hours. About what? I’m not sure. I know we talked a lot about comedy, our common ground (I know I said I would never date someone in the comedy world but….well….sue me, I like funny nerdy guys), random films, just…stuff. It was fun. Ever since I quit drinking, I haven’t had the energy to stay out past midnight. Now in 2016, I’ve been out until 4 am…TWICE! *clenches pearls*

But, with that being said, I don’t stay out until 4 am with just anyone. We both mentioned that to each other. I knew in that moment we kind of felt something. We weren’t really sure what it was, but it was a connection, for sure. I hadn’t stayed up this late talking to someone in a very, very long time. It was nice. It was different. It was refreshing.

So, we walked out of the bar, and it was raining. The lights reflected off the concrete, and we stood under a balcony. “Oh, come ON”, I thought. My brain kept going “oh, my God. This is so romantic. This is, like, way too romantic. Does he even realize how romantic this is? He probably doesn’t. Oh, shit, my leftovers are ruining the lining of my handbag.”

I tried to tune it out. It was a mere coincidence. It was. Rain isn’t that romantic, and I was wearing leather; I didn’t want to be in the rain. I was tired. It was 4 am! I needed to go. Why wouldn’t we just go? We couldn’t get ourselves to leave. That’s when he offered to pay for an Uber for me to get home, which was incredibly generous (Men, take note, offer a lady you kept out till 4 AM an Uber home), and instead of saying “Wow, thank you!”, like I wanted to say, I said something along the lines of “No, you don’t have to do that. But if you are that concerned, you can come over with me and sleep at my place”.

Wait! No. I meant that in a platonic way. In a totally, not-sexually-charged way! Come on over, in the rain, and sleep in my bed! We have known each other for 48 hours and met via a dating app! We are each other’s types! What could possibly happen when two people attracted to each other are in a bed after a really nice date?

I never said I was smart.

Anyway, Luke looked shocked. According to him, I, and I quote “Was sweet but at no point did it seem like a good idea to kiss you”. I am not surprised. I’m super closed off. I am all new to this, and am proceeding with caution since I am in such a confusing time in my life. I am working on some private ventures, I quit my other job, I kind of have to make money in odd ways to make ends meet, and it’s a bit of a struggle for me to get it all together. I can’t offer a guy a serious relationship right now, but I am human and would enjoy some company.

Luke said very nicely, “no”, to my request to come home, and clearly felt uncomfortable. I couldn’t believe I did that, either. It’s not that I wasn’t attracted to him, I was– I am! I just completely forgot that you kind of don’t do that after a nice first date that wasn’t incredibly sexually-charged. He walked me to the subway, and we hugged good-bye.

The next day we talked again, and my feeble attempt to get Luke to come home with me was mentioned. We both kept apologizing to each other, laughing about how awkward it was, and instead of beating around the bush, we, you know, talked about our feelings? He told me he liked me, but he knew I didn’t really want to hook up with him that night. I told him I liked him, and that he was right. Ok. Uh. So, that happened? And then we just carried on our conversation to the next topic. It was so new to me. You tell someone you like them, and you talk to them after your date, and you don’t hook up right away. Who would’ve thought? Am I in a Steve Harvey film? Although we both can’t promise any serious commitment to each other, there are still rules to dating that some people still follow. It was refreshing. We just kept talking about things that you don’t share for months in a relationship, because why not just let it all out? We said we liked each other, and then we simultaneously decided,”OH, REALLY? YOU LIKE ME? LET ME SCARE YOU AWAY”. Oh, you think my eyes are pretty? Well, here’s THIS bag of trash that happened to me when I was 15. Oh, you think I’m sweet? Well, I used to be a total dog. Oh, you get the point? Well, here’s one more example to complete the rule of threes. We kept trying to scare each other away, but we seemed to just laugh at each other’s misfortunes instead of hiding them in shame.

As we continued talking, we started to click even more. The more flaws and baggage we shared, the more we related to each other. We had a lot in common, even outside of comedy and being weird. We connected through what we thought were huge flaws, that actually, in some cases, anyway, were kind of really cool. Sure, I wasn’t exactly aroused hearing about his ex-girlfriend, but I really appreciated how he was able to talk about it so honestly, without bashing her (men, take note: do not bring up the ex. BUT If you bring her up, you better not bash her). I’m sure he wasn’t stoked to hear about some of the issues I had with drinking, and how I’m pretty much unemployed. I think I am a great catch, don’t get me wrong, but I am aware I have flaws. That sounds like I am saying, “I am so flawless that I am aware I have flaws! How brave of me!”, but it’s not like that. I know I am not everyone’s type, but when I click with someone, it’s so exciting, because it so rarely happens. Luke said the same thing to me about himself. Shocking, two weird comedy nerds don’t connect with people very easily? You don’t say! We have undeniable chemistry, but what that chemistry may be, we aren’t very sure.

Then we started talking on the phone at night. After all, it was day 4 (Note, not Date #4, DAY#4.). It was time to take our “relationship” to the next level. Now, phone calls can make or break a relationship. It’s a real test. I am a talker, and so is Luke. We both have the same mentality of talking to make someone feel comfortable, and it is God damn adorable when we both keep talking about nothing to fill the silence that we so desperately crave, but are, apparently, so scared to experience (I say this with love, Luke x). We then continued to talk until 2 in the morning every night. You know, like any normal, platonic friends do, who aren’t remotely sexually attracted to each other.

Look, I don’t even call my Mom. Stop judging, I am much more articulate via e-mail. So when I’m on the phone for 2 hours every night with someone, I am going to start wondering what is going on here. We both joked about how weird our “whatever this is” is, but we weren’t answering the big question of “um….is there something here?”. So we set up a time to hang out on Friday. He came over, my roommate had people over, and we had to stay in my room. We did not have trouble finding things to do.

The next morning I had to meet up with some friends for brunch. I was beaming. I tried to talk to them about what was going on, but I just sounded insane. It was insane. I knew this guy for a week, and I felt more comfortable around him than anyone, or at least anyone that I’ve met so far in New York. I could talk to him about some of the darkest times in my life, and it felt like I was talking to an old friend. It sounded down right insane. Maybe it was, but it was fun. A lot of fun.  We hung out again on Monday. Fun again.

Wait. Isn’t this just dating? Or is this just how lazy millennials date? Is this what it’s like to date an actual Larry David? Maybe the answer to all of these questions are no, but maybe they’re yes. I’m not looking for anything serious right now, but who knows how I’ll feel down the road. I will keep my options open in the process, since we all know when a guy says he can’t date you, you should believe him–you are the rule, not the exception. I know I mean more to Luke than just some girl he’s hooking up with, but I also know that he is most likely not going to wake up 6 months from now and go “woah, NOW I want to be exclusive!”. So, is it even worth it to just continue hanging out, even if there seems to be a dead end? Do all love stories have to be novels? Whatever happened to the short story romances? Those are some of the best, most romantic moments I’ve ever had.

I’ll never forget this whirlwind week with Luke. This weekend left me dizzy with happiness, and I can’t thank him enough for that. He is honest and passionate, goofy but considerate, and makes me laugh so hard, even when I kind of hate him for the joke he’s making. He is a ton of fun, and I am so glad I made a new, albeit weird, connection. I don’t know how I feel about him, but I know I enjoy his company and enjoy talking to him. He makes me feel happy, beautiful, and not so alone. He makes me super corny and nerdy. I feel like myself more than I have felt in a long, long time, and I know this roller coaster fling has something to do with it. It has been 10 days since we met, but I know I won’t forget that time I went on a 6+ hour first date, got rejected, then got not-rejected, then spoke all day everyday, talked on the phone all night, and spent half of a long weekend in bed together, all in 10 days.

I’m on this roller coaster, and whether it fizzles in a week or blossoms to something in the future, I’m kind of excited to see what will happen in other parts of my life in 2016. So far it has been completely different from what it was like in December.

Also, I really could use a more stable job. Anyone hiring?

Thanks.

This time last week, I felt emotionally and physically depleted. I felt hopeless and really low. Nothing felt like it was going right, because, well, it wasn’t. Life is like that sometimes. I decided to stop being so ‘tough’ and just ask for help from you all, friends, family, any one. Not only did you guys OVERWHELM me with love and support (and you don’t even know what’s going on with me personally! That’s so kind) but many of you did huge things to help me, to the point where I ended this week on a huge high note, just in time for the holidays.
 
Holidays are hard for a lot of people, and I am no exception. Sure, there have been some extraneous factors that aren’t the holiday’s fault, but I always have trouble with the end of the year. I love looking at what I’ve done, and to reflect on what I can do better next year, but this year it has been extremely difficult for me. I changed so much this year and improved so much, I am paralyzed by how I can possibly continue to improve without making it look like I feel like my current accomplishments aren’t enough. That’s far from the case. I am extremely proud of my accomplishments and I actually stuck with my resolutions this year. I realized I can do anything I put my mind to. If I want it, and really, really want it, I can make it happen. That type of belief system is empowering, yes, but paralyzing. You start to approach things with such seriousness, that if you aren’t perfect right off the bat, you get discouraged and maybe change gears prematurely.
 
Not to mention the personal issues that have weighed heavily on my heart over the past couple of months…NYC has been an incredible transition, good and bad, but I’m ready to feel complete again. I know something is missing. Perhaps it’s comedy, writing, or a job. Maybe it’s me wanting a companion through all this. Maybe it’s just being a little lonely, despite being around such loving and supportive friends. Just know that I am forever appreciative and will continue to do my best. NYC brings that out of me, and I am so thankful for this brutal city to help me grow into a better woman. I love New York, but boy, it is not Ellicott City, MD. That’s a great thing–but still a huge transition for me.
 
What I’m trying to say here is thank you for your blind kindness, love, and support. I will get through this, and 2016 will be incredible, because I will make it incredible.
 
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I will be back soon, and considering how much ‘tragedy’ is happening, I am sure some comedy will come of this, too.
Happy Holidays. I love you.

It All Comes Down To This

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I have one week left in Baltimore. I have signed my lease, and will officially be living in Brooklyn in October. This month has been far from smooth. Actually, it has been the most stressed out, unpleasant, and unsettling month I have had in a while. Being a chronic worrier and over thinker, I was convinced that this was a bad omen. I am really working on not complaining and venting 24/7 because it makes me inadvertently toxic, so I just will tell you that the lease process was a nightmare, I had close friends lose their family members, I had some issues with friends come afoot, each member of my immediate family is having a huge problem that they are projecting their extreme stress onto me, I have had to spend way more money than I anticipated on the move and it seems like the bills just keep pilling up, I’m being kind of a lousy friend, and the worst part, I don’t feel bad about it….and I got sick. What the hell, world!? I am very overwhelmed. The world isn’t going to end, but it’s easy to be overcome by life and its endless bs.

Something was telling me that I should stay home, that I should maybe wait until 2016 to make a move. While yes, I could save some more money and have more of a cushion to fall back on during my move, waiting a few more months won’t do anything for me. I will still be complacent, comfortable, and taking it easy in Maryland. I would have to deal with my parents (whom I love dearly) and the boredom of life in a suburb. I would have to keep waiting tables and working odd jobs, and only taking solace in shopping and over spending, which just off-sets all the work I just did to save money in the first place.

All of these obstacles that have gotten in my way this month actually confirms that I need to move to Brooklyn. It’s time.

I’ve been going to mics more frequently and I have been having a blast. I’m finally connecting with comics (not because they weren’t friendly, but because I was too shy to talk to them) and it has made each open mic something I’m looking forward to instead of freaking out and dreading it. I worry that sometimes I take the mic for granted and I don’t do that well, but I keep getting good feedback from my peers, so I guess I’m doing something right? I’ve been starting to feel like some of my older jokes are getting stale, so luckily this past month has been such a nightmare, it has helped my material be fresh and it has been fun to talk about it on stage. I even got the host to ask the audience to give me another round of applause for my set. That was pretty cool. I know that if I keep the momentum going things will only get better but it just is bittersweet knowing that I’ve connected with these comics and now I’m leaving them to start all over in NYC. Like I said, it’s meant to be, and I have to do it.

I have a show that I’m headlining before I move, October 2. It’s at Zissimos in Hampden, MD, starting at 8 pm. I am incredibly excited but I am still suffering some heartache over leaving. I know I’ll be back soon for the holidays but it just is tough knowing I have to start it all over again in a new city with a ton more expenses.

But if it was easy, everyone would do it. That’s what dreams are all about. I could easily go back to Marketing and get a job that drains me and pays well, have a 401k and be that cookie cutter person that society demands us all to be, but I wouldn’t be happy. Sure, money is incredibly important and I would love a pay increase, but at what cost? I’ll take struggling with money and doing what I love than having money and no joy in what I’m doing. When you don’t love what you’re spending most of your day doing, it affects every aspect of your life. You become toxic and unpleasant. I’ve seen it first hand and have experienced it myself. I used to let my professional friends make me feel bad or insecure about my path, and then I realized that they are just as lost as I feel at times. Ok, they have a job that pays, but all they do is complain about it, they’re single and have no energy to go out and meet people, and they’re lonely. I’ve never felt lonely since I started doing what I love. So if putting my path down makes them feel better about their lives, so be it. I won’t allow them make me feel bad because they’re noticing shortcomings in their lives.

Don’t let society, parents, friends, anyone tell you how to live your life. The reason they are telling you what you should do is to make them feel better about their choices that clearly aren’t making them happy. They aren’t out to get you, but they don’t know what’s best for you. The second I stopped seeking people’s suggestions on what to do, the better I have felt. I have my apprehensions because I’m nervous and scared and it’s a huge financial commitment, but I know that the cost of staying home is far worse than the $$$ that NYC costs. I’ll make it work because I have to make it work. I will work whatever jobs I need to work and hustle because that’s what you’re supposed to do to make your dreams come true.

I can settle for a corporate job any time. Maybe I’ll be there in a few years, maybe I won’t. Right now, all I want is to do what makes me feel alive and happy, and comedy is the most honest relationship I have ever had. I don’t pity my friends who have marriages, kids, or a corporate job–that’s great and I sincerely hope that works for them–but I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone’s, ever. I love being independent and not having to answer to anyone, I love meeting new people everyday, I love being immersed in the comedy scene and hearing jokes, I love scraping up money through interesting ways, I love not having to go to work at 8 am to commute, I love making ends meet (and then some) through my own hard passionate work. I love sleeping when I can. I love knowing I can stay up ’till 3 am and not have to worry about being tired the next day. There are absolutely corporate jobs that are great and make people very happy, and I am sure someday I will have to temp again and work in that environment. For now, I’m going to revel in being a renegade and just relax.

It will be ok, because it has to be ok.
I got this.

More Days of Stand Up, Death…and other stuff!

August has been one heck of a month. It’s been great, actually, but so much has went on that it’s hard to keep track. The first week of August I wrapped up the biggest sale of the year at my retail job, had my first tinder date, and then performed at the Comedy Extravaganza. I saw friends I haven’t seen in 7 years, and I met a lot of really interesting and supportive people. I got back into a stand-up routine and started making friends with comics. One of my best friends since middle school was in town from LA, and we had a blast like we always did. I lost 6 pounds. I put in the final two weeks at my retail job, and was really saddened to leave such great friends behind. It’s now September. My 25th birthday came and I went to Chicago. It was a great birthday. There were some really unfortunate events that happened that day, my dear friend’s Dad lost his battle to ALS, and a few days later, another dear friend’s sister passed away unexpectedly to a brain aneurysm.

Forgive me for being trite here, but life is so short, and it is so scary.

It should remind us all how fragile life is, and how blessed we are to be where we are right now. I know I can get wrapped up in my own world and problems, but when you see your friends lose their family members, you realize that there’s no point in worrying, because we could be dead tomorrow. There’s just no point in worrying so much. Freaking out over where you are in your career or who you are dating or not dating is so pointless. Live! Go outside. Volunteer. Get your head out of your ass and focus on someone other than yourself. We are all vulnerable and a little a lost, and all fighting a battle.

My heart goes out to my friends and their families, and words can’t express how sorry and sad I am for them. Everyone’s heart is heavy right now. Just know that you are loved, and I am always a text away.

I’m not sure how to segue this into stand-up, but I am just gonna jump right into it. Forgive me for changing gears here.

I’ve gotten back into the open mic swing of things now that I have one less job to juggle, and it has been fantastic. I have been meeting more people, and have been more outgoing. Everyone is cool and really, really funny. They aren’t all out to get me. They want me to be funny, and they laugh when it’s funny, and they smile when they don’t find me funny. That’s kind of wonderful. I’m really glad I’ve started to connect with more comics and building friendships, even if I’m leaving relatively soon. I’m officially moving to New York (GULP) in October, ideally Oct 1, to pursue my writing and comedy, all the while working my butt off at any job any time anywhere so I can continue to live comfortably. I would ideally work in Copywriting or freelance events/production, but I am not closed-minded. I will do anything if it keeps me away from Chevy’s in Times Square (no disrespect to my wonderful employer that I’ve been with for my 1 year anniversary this month!). I am beyond anxious about it, and I know I have a ton of work ahead of me. But if I don’t do it now, when would I do it? I could die tomorrow. That’s a scary fact to face. I want to pursue my dreams, even if I’m not totally ready experience or portfolio wise. I know I have a lot of work to do on my act, and I can always improve my writing. I just love New York, always have, always will, and I need to be there while I’m 25 and will just hustle until something comes about. If it does not work out, don’t you worry, I literally have 4 back-up plans, and they’re all good. One involves moving to Canton, MD…so maybe I will be around again.

For now, I am looking forward to this new chapter, no matter how scary it seems. I will always be a bus ride away, and I will definitely hit open mics in MD when I’m in town. I’m really thankful for the people I’ve met and connected with over the past year and several months. I had no idea I would love people so much, and the thought of leaving really hurts my heart. I’m so bad with goodbyes; I rarely do them. I usually just get up and leave and hope no one notices (they always do). I just want to say bye for now, and thank you for everything. You have made this really difficult time in my life an amazing journey that I will be forever thankful for for years to come.

Oh, right…stand-up…um, at the risk of being vague, last week was good! I was at Wits End again I just did a lot of old jokes just to tweak them a little. Some worked, some need more work. This week was all right, I was in at Venice Tavern in Canton with a comic friend of mine and I tried out some new material that actually worked better than all of the material that usually works at other mics. It was interesting to see how it just kind of flopped when I was always used to jokes landing. It was definitely my delivery that was different, because I was trying to be more ‘chill’, I guess…but I think that came off as apathetic, and people didn’t grasp it. Just trial and error, of course. I recorded this set and it was criiiiiinge-worthy at some parts (I’m my own worst critic, but it just wasn’t all that good), but I could tell I kind of was trying to talk slowly and that messed up my delivery. I’m glad I got up and did it, and I got some “good jobs” after the set. That’s all I can really ask for anyway.

Thanks, Baltimore. You’ve been so good to me.

Press: Comedy Pigs Summer Comedy Extravaganza 2015

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MET’s ‘Comedy Pigs Comedy Extravaganza’ Set for August

MET's 'Comedy Pigs Comedy Extravaganza' Set for AugustMET’s hilarious sketch and improv group, The Comedy Pigs, will play host to comedy groups from across the Maryland/Virginia/DC area for the “Comedy Pigs’ Comedy Extravaganza”. The “Extravaganza” will run for two performances this August, each with a different line-up, for two unique nights of comedy featuring improv games, stand-up comedy, long-form improv, sketch, and everything in between.

The Comedy Pigs, who have been making audiences laugh for over 22 years, are thrilled to invite some of their friends and bitter rivals from the DMV to Frederick for a weekend of hilarity. Writer, comedian, and personal shopper Suzanne Lassise will stumble into town as she has stumbled through adulthood, one over-priced (but worth it!) shoe at a time. Ladies Night Out explore what it means to be women, in more ways than one. Prettier Than You, a DC-based long-form improv troupe with a focus on character work, thinks that they are, um, prettier than you. Local comic, Isabel Duarte is a member of the Comedy Pigs, a MET company member, and a regular contributor to the weekly comedy show and podcast, “The Last Hurrah.” Tributes is an improv comedy act from Baltimore that specializes in friendship, mind-reading, and a lack of boundaries. While exploring the periphery of relationships, they fulfill wild dreams and realize impossible scenarios right before your eyes! Additional performers will include Topher Bellavia, The Last Hurrah, Porkchop Volcano, Trampus, Send in the Clowns, Tramped, Washington College Improv, Drop Three Improv, Devin Greene, Girlfight, Topher and You, Going to the Movies Alone, and of course, The Comedy Pigs!

In addition to the “Comedy Pigs Comedy Extravaganza” performances, The Comedy Pigs will be hosting improv workshops led by Topher Bellavia. Topher Bellavia is an actor, director, designer, and writer who lives and performs in DC. He has performed with the Washington Improv Theater and has won two 48 Hour Film Project Awards. He was the Managing Director for the Washington Improv Theater for four years and has continued to offer training in Corporate Improv and Creativity. He has worked with The Comedy Pigs over the years and is currently hosting the “Maryland Wednesday Drop-in” in Silver Spring to work with local groups on their improvisation skills. The first workshop will focus on “The Power of Positivity” and the second workshop will work on “Interacting with Locations and Objects.” The workshops will take place on August 8 at 12pm and 3:30pm.

“Comedy Pigs’ Comedy Extravaganza” will run Friday and Saturday, August 7 and 8 at 8 p.m. at Maryland Ensemble Theatre (31 W Patrick St. Frederick) located in the historic FSK Hotel. These shows are intended for mature audiences only and tickets are $17 (all fees included). The Comedy Pigs Improv Workshops will cost $25 and are intended for individuals of all ages who are interested in learning more about improvisation. Reservations for the workshops should be done in advance because there is limited space available for each class. For more information visit marylandensemble.org or call (301) 694-4744.

ORIGINAL POST MADE ON http://www.broadwayworld.com/bwwcomedy/article/METs-Comedy-Pigs-Comedy-Extravaganza-Set-for-August-20150729

Day 2: First Up, First Out

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A week has passed since I last performed. After getting back on the saddle with stand up, at first, I felt a little disheartened. Not that I expected to kill, but I was just kind of jarred by how hard it is, how delusional I must be to think I can actually *do* comedy, and what my life will entail doing open mics more and more frequently. It was scary, and I didn’t feel ready.

Then as I got more support and wrote about it more, I felt more at ease about the situation. It’s miraculous how a week of just preparing and getting kind of excited will do to you. I wanted to do some more open mics but my work schedule just won’t budge right now. Tuesdays are typically good for me, so I do open mics then. I was back at Wits End Saloon and saw some familiar faces when I came in promptly for sign up. I was the first to sign up, Suzanne Lacease. I sat alone with my moleskine and waited. and waited. and waited.

The MC told me I was up first, and I was actually kind of relieved. I just wanted to get it over with, because my jitters were kicking in and I was starting to get nervous. He called me up, and it was like I was a completely different person than from what I was last week. I just sat on the stool, remembered my moleskine this time, and just chatted with the audience.

Now, there were maybe 8 people in the audience, but I got constant laughter and participation from the audience. It felt great. I was just talking to them like they were my friends, and we all felt much more comfortable. I wasn’t trying to hard to be witty or funny, I just said what was on my mind and it worked so much better. I forgot some one liners I wanted to say, which I’m still kicking myself about, but I am overall really pleased by how it turned out! I also ended too early and was at a complete loss as to what to say when I was done with my two bits. I wanted to tune them up for my big show so I forgot to make it long enough to fit into a set. I talked about dating again with this set, and have come to terms with the fact that I am just gonna do dating jokes as I start out because they are easy for me and it’s something I know, at least. I don’t know relationships, but I definitely know dating. I just got to suck it up and realize I’m not Chappelle or Carlin…yet. :)

I got up, did my thing, got some laughs, and PROMPTLY got out the door. I just did not want to hear dick jokes or any jokes, really. I just was not in the mood and I have an early morning tomorrow. I was home in bed by 10:40 PM. Now that is a great open mic to me.

My big show released its flyer today and I can’t be more excited. With this solid open mic under my belt and more to come, I am feeling more and more confident that I will put on a good show. I’m trying my best to not beat myself up or be hard on myself because I’m just doing it for once and not getting in my own way. It’s nice to look out on the horizon and not see me standing there blocking myself from my dreams.

I am tucking myself into bed and getting some sleep. Until next time!

Baby’s First Playbill

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Come join me and Maryland’s best comedy acts for the show that keeps on giving! I am so excited and nervous to do this big show and I would love for you to come see it! The show is at the Maryland Ensemble Theater in Frederick, Maryland. Tickets are available here!

Day 1: First Step to Stand Up

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I’d like to share with you my open mic life, as it helps me get better at my, dare I say it, “craft”. I started writing about open mics years ago (I can’t believe it’s been YEARS…yikes), then got a new job and a whole bunch of excuses to get in the way of my life. Now, I am getting back into it, and as an incentive, I want to write about every performance I do. The good, the bad, the ugly.

I have a big show August 8 (Marylanders, buy your tickets!! It’s a great line up of comedy Improv troupes and stand-ups) and I realized something: I should probably practice and get a tight 10 minutes of material ready. You know, prepare? Maybe? I am someone who rarely studied and got A’s (B’s…C’s…and D’s…but mostly B’s!) a pretty good athlete that always groaned during practice but always delivered at game time, and an improviser at heart, but I know I have to cut that habit out if I ever want to get that A. I can coast all I want but at the end of the day, you just won’t get good if you don’t practice. I’m learning that the hard way.

My girlfriend’s boyfriend, Devin, is a comic in Maryland who was kind enough to let me in on his open mic plans. There was a small show at Wit’s End Saloon next to Magooby’s Joke House in Timonium, and I’ve been to the bar before to eat some food, but never knew there was a stand up show there. I have been coasting a lot recently and haven’t performed in months. It’s my own fault, but I work every day just about, and when I don’t, I’m traveling. I don’t abuse adderall anymore so I just don’t have the energy I used to “have” back in the day when I worked 15 hours a day. I know I need to reel in my work schedule, but that’s another story for another meeting with my therapist. I just never think I’m doing enough, and honestly, I am doing way too much. Way. Too. Much. Comedy took a back seat because it didn’t make me money, and I thought I was hot shit and funny because my friends think so. I don’t know many newbie comics who don’t think that way; we’re all delusional to think we can become real comedians. That’s how all of the greats start–completely, utterly delusional, but performing every single night.

It’s about time I did the same.

We got to the show and like clock work, I pulled up next to Devin in the parking lot. It was cosmic, or it was just the closest spot by the bar. You decide. I met the other comics on the line up, and met the MC. He was very friendly. I was very nervous. I was wearing my lucky Nike kicks and my favorite red lipstick, and I still felt nervous. I signed my name on the line-up sheet “Suzanne Lacease” just to avoid the dreadful Lassie pronunciation. It was in ink. Boom. Done. Now it’s time to sit and wait.

and wait.

and wait.

Am I even going on? Did the MC forget me? I don’t blame him, but I can’t hear one more dick joke…

I went outside to take a deep breath and chat with some drunk guys who told me they’d laugh at my jokes ‘no matter what’. I was so nervous I believed them. The MC came out and told me I was coming on after a guy with a vest adorned with buttons a la Girl Scouts. This is it!

I was called to the stage, and I decided to record being called up and screamed “LET’S TELL SOME DICK JOOOOOKEEEEESSS” on video for Instagram. It was greeted with 0 response, I pressed ‘done’ and posted it on to Instagram. At least the people on IG can hear the clapping and not the ‘what?’ I felt like as the only woman on the line up I should call out the very obvious theme of masturbation and dick jokes that was throughout the hour and a half I was patiently waiting.

I decided that they didn’t really hear me (false) or that they really thought I was going to tell dick jokes (another false), and I made a joke about how I don’t have that kind of business to banter about. I got the giggle. Ok, phew, let’s go.

Then I look to the stool to open my Moleskine of jokes I wrote, or a set list I had scribbled, and I realize it’s on the table by Devin and I was a deer in headlights. I joked about being unprepared (everyone’s favorite…sigh) and Devin tossed me the Moleskine that I dropped on the floor. Welp, I thought, I’m gonna just wing it.

I started off talking about being from Baltimore, but I couldn’t quite remember how I set up the joke in my Moleskine and it fell flat. Wasn’t awful, but just wasn’t funny. Luckily I had a lot of guys in the audience who were from Baltimore so they at least were on my side. Kind of like a “ok, white girl, bring it home to Baltimore”. I slabbed on my accent and kept going.

On to the next!

Then I joked about my job in retail, and I got some tepid laughter. It wasn’t hysterical, and it was a little too long-winded to get to the punchline. Luckily, once I got to the punchline, it got the laugh, and I felt all right. I’m not killing, but this room is about 10 half-drunk comics who have heard it all. You just aren’t going to kill, and that’s ok! Tepid laughter from a comic means I should hold on to it for another open mic.

Then I kind of forgot what else to say. SMASH CUT: DATING JOKES!

I hate dating jokes. I don’t know, I just have heard them all from way funnier women, and they just are always the same. Amy Schumer and Whitney Cummings are the go-to dating joke gurus, and even then sometimes the jokes are like “uuugghhhhh we get it”. But I didn’t know what to say, and I felt like talking about something I know will get a laugh because it is fucking funny. Shout out to my newest Instagram follower “Orgasm.Giverr”. He saved my set. I can improve on it but I have a good set up and I built my confidence back up. The guy in the front was smiling. Devin was laughing because he’s a good guy, but when someone is a stranger and laughs, you feel good.

Then I had some joke about charmers that I honestly know was so good when I had it written, but completely forgot the punchline. I forgot the set up, and a huge chunk of the story. It got a giggle but it fell flat, but I know it can get better with some practice.

I stayed and listened to one last comic, then decided I had to get home for work in the morning. I got some smiles from the other comics, and nods. It felt good to be back. I chatted with a guy from LA outside and we chatted about LA and open mics. He was aloof, like a lot of comics, but he seemed like good company. As I was talking, the MC came outside and asked me how long have I been doing stand up. I just passively said “not very long”, because honestly, either answer isn’t going to make me look good. I was expecting a “oh, I can tell” or something like that, but he nicely said “oh, wow. Well that OkCupid joke was great. It was a great set up, and it was so obvious, yet I never heard anyone say anything about it before. It was really funny.”

That’s all I needed to hear.

So all in all, my “first” open mic (let’s just call it that) was a pretty good time. I was used to “killing” in front of my friends and it made me a bit delusional. I’m so glad I got out there in front of strangers in a room of dudes and just did it. I didn’t do amazing, but I did just fine. That’s how you should be when you start out. You don’t kill every time. If you’re killing when you’re starting, you’re in the wrong room. I learned that tonight, and I’m so glad I did. I texted Devin and want to set up an open mic on Thursday.

a la George Costanza, I’M BACK IN BUSINESS, BABY!

The Art of Finally Letting Go Of The Bully

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Despite my at times aloof disposition, I am incredibly sensitive. I get hurt by an off-handed innocuous comment and hold it in my heart for years, and I’ll never tell you how much it hurt me. I’m a masochist like that; I hold it in, hold it in, hold it in, until something triggers me and sets me off. It is a terrible habit I developed from my childhood, but that was just how I was taught to deal with feelings. “Suck it up, get over it, or pay a therapist to listen to it” is on our family crest. When I drank, I would bubble over with feelings that flung from my mouth without any inhibition. I would lash out at people with no filter or consideration for the other person’s feelings. I would mask my commentary as a joke at times, but everyone knew it wasn’t a joke. It was truly awful. Now that I’m sober, I have made it my mission to express how I feel and articulate myself when I am hurt, without letting it boil over into a much bigger deal than it needs to be. I have been pretty good about it so far, or so I thought, but I was tested today. Today I encountered a person I honestly hoped I would never see again, and often times fantasized what I would say if I ever saw them again.

After 7 years since graduation, I saw my high school bully.

Everyone has some type of childhood nemesis, and although I had plenty of people I didn’t see eye-to-eye with, this person put the rest of my nay-sayers to shame. To make an incredibly long story short, this person hated me the minute they met me, a loud, outspoken girl, because they too were loud and outspoken. Unfortunately for both of us, we were both loud and outspoken about hating each other. I remember it like it was yesterday, the guy transferred into our high school, and I had no idea who he was, but everyone kept telling me there was this person who says that I am the “ugliest, most annoying girl he’s ever met”. A tad dramatic, but I’m not bullet-proof. It hurt. I didn’t even know this person, but I was instantly rejected. So, like any sensitive high schooler, I fought fire with fire, and came up to him and confronted them. It was the start of an endless battle that lasted well through senior year. He would say or do one thing to hurt me, I would say and do another to hurt him; it came to a point where I would fear crossing paths with him, because, like me, he did not hold back, and he knew what would hurt me, just like I knew what would hurt him. It was, in a word, so very high school.

The worst part was that he became friends with my friends, because he was a very outgoing, charismatic, funny guy. I see what others saw in him. He had the whole mean girls thing down to a T and boy did it drive a wedge in my social life. Slowly over the years my once close friends began to pull away as they became closer with him, because he was more fun, and, well, he would make sure no one liked me. Some months I remember he would try to be nice to me, and I would do something to mess it up by shooting a friendly fire, and that would just make it worse. Sometimes I would purposefully annoy him just because I knew it would, and now in hindsight I just see how innately stupid and childish that was, but I was desperate to look like I had the control in our ongoing battle, and I’d be damned if I waved a white flag. It was, in a word, so very fucking self-destructive.

Once Senior year came, I was on the final strings with a lot of my friends, and I felt that we were all going different paths. We just didn’t have much in common anymore, but I wanted to have groups to go to parties with, groups to say hello to in the morning, a group to go to Homecoming with…I just wanted to be included, even if the group didn’t really like me that much. It was just survival, as I’m sure many of us can relate to senior year when we look around at all of our friends and go “wow…I don’t have anything in common with you”. Little did I know none of this would matter in a couple of months, but at the time, it was devastating feeling left out. And I am not going to pin it all on this one guy, but he did not help with my friends feeling uninterested in maintaining a friendship with me when it pissed off their friend they like more than me anyway so much. It’s basic psychology. I get it.

Then there was the final moment that I should have waved my white flag, but I didn’t, and it ruined my entire Senior year (dramatic, but accurate in the eyes of a 17-year-old). My friends were all going to a concert that I didn’t care about but bought a ticket to specifically because I knew it was the place to go that weekend. I also knew there would be drinking, something I had done a grand total of 1 1/2 times (essentially 3 times I took 2 swigs of vodka when I was 15 and was “hammered”), but that was what the cool kids did, and like any high school flick, I wanted to be cool, A-DUH. I remember taking maybe 2 shots at once and the rest was a blur. I blacked out and woke up outside of the concert, with one of my closest friends all through middle and high school, and him. I had no idea what happened, and they told me I was kicked out because I was falling and a mess. I started bawling immediately, because alcohol + embarrassment = ALL OF THE TEARS. He took my phone and called my Mom, telling her what happened so she could come get me, and my Mom went absolutely insane. I had a trip to New York with her the next weekend, and I knew she would cancel it if she found out I was drinking and got kicked out of a concert. In hindsight, I realize that would never happen, because the tickets to our Broadway show were already purchased and our hotel was long booked, but knowing her, she would find a way. My Mom sent my Dad out to pick me up, and I was continuing to be hysterical, mostly yelling at the guy who was helping me. This guy, who has been nothing but mean to me, was helping me out when I needed it, and sacrificing his concert to help me, and I was screaming at him. I was screaming at him for being so mean to me, for calling me ugly, for hating me for no reason, the whole 9 yards. I reached my boiling point and Burnetts let it all pour out all over the one person helping me out in my time of need. He didn’t yell at me, he just took it, and tried to calm me down, but never denied that he hated me. I always found that funny and in hindsight respect him for that. My Dad picked me up, and it was time to do damage control. Little did I know, I was going to make things 93576 times worse.

My Dad was furious in the car, and as I was sobering up, I began to realize what was at stake. My New York trip, my fun, the rest of my Senior year…I had to think fast. The first thing that came to my drunk mind was to blame the one guy who my parents know has “had it out for me” since day one. I told the biggest, most bullshit lie I could muster up, and that was that my bully stole my phone and lied to my parents about being drunk and kicked out of a concert to get back at me because he, well, hated me. I don’t  know what was more insane, that story, or the fact my parents, without so much as skipping a beat, believed it. I texted that very person I threw under the bus for my own selfish needs and thanked him for his help. He told me I should pay for his ticket, which I agreed. I was still in a ton of trouble anyway but the fire was put out, that is, until that Monday.

That Monday was the worst day of my entire grade school career. I came in, and everyone knew what happened. I was hammered, a shit show, and made out with some weird dude (apparently he was super old? I have no idea what happened, but I don’t doubt that happened), and my bully-now-super hero was fucking furious with me. Everyone stared at me and made comments when I walked through the hallways. I knew that everyone knew, and they knew that I knew. It was absolutely horrifying. I got it that the guy who helped me was mad, but I thought we were cool when I apologized and offered to pay for his ticket. We were all sitting at lunch, and I remember seeing him fuming as he came up to me. I said ‘hey, here’s your money’, and he turned to me, and screamed to the entire lunch room “You keep your money, since you told your parents that I fucking lied to them when you were wasted and making out with old guys”.

My secret was out. He found out because my dumbass brother posted on my facebook wall about how my parents bought my stupid story. It was in print, and there was no denying it. I was exposed. I admitted what I did and apologized, but the damage was done. My other friend who helped me that night was sitting with me, and I looked at her, and she was so upset. Everyone was staring at me. I mean, literally, everyone. The guy stormed off, and I just was alone, surrounded by stares and whispers. It took every fiber of my being to not cry, and I calmly got up, grabbed my lunch and walked off into the bathroom where I ate my lunch alone and cried, a la Cady Heron in Mean Girls. It was fucking awful, and I deserved it.

After my depressing toilet lunch, I spent the rest of the day hiding in the guidance office, sobbing for hours, missing the rest of school. I was inconsolable, and I had no idea what to do. I was exposed and that was the final nail in the coffin with any of my friends who were on both sides of Team Suzanne, Team Guy Who Helped Suzanne and She Fucked Him Over. I was done, he was officially the good guy, and I was the villain. The Senior year I was so worried about ruining by not making the effort with my friends was ruined just by me trying to be cool and drinking. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself.

The rest of the year was pretty bleak. I was tainted with “that girl” reputation and the bully now had all the power over me. He could say whatever mean thing he wanted to say, because I finally gave him a real reason to hate me. No one ever officially took sides, but seeing that my social life was just me going to work on the weekends being friends with people who didn’t go to my high school pretty much sums it up where I stood on the social food chain. I was a social pariah ’till graduation. No one was mean to me, but no one was especially friendly, either. It was a sea of apathy or hatred, and no one was buying what I was selling. It was so lonely, and it scarred me with my friendships and future friendships ’till this day. I was overcome with loneliness and guilt, and there was nothing I could do except wait until college to start all over again with people who may not know so much about my not-so-great high school resume.

Over the years post-graduation, I would hear through the grape vine of the horrible things my bully would still say about me, the Facebook statuses he would post at my expense, you name it. I tried to move on from my high school baggage in college, but as I drank it would bubble over and affect my friendships, and even relationships. I would think I was ugly and not worthy of any guy liking me, because that was what I was told all through high school. It is sad but this person had such a hold over me, even years after the fact. The back of my head just played a monologue of the things he said to me, that I knew other people thought of me as well, and it seriously messed up my psyche. I would fantasize of what I would say to him if I ever saw him again, how I would shut him down and shove in his face how great I am doing now, how I graduated with this and got a promotion in that, how some dude at a bar said I was beautiful once…just a pathetic list of accolades that for some reason I would think would show him what’s what! It was pretty lame, to say the least.

After years of therapy (for other reasons, not just a bully) and getting sober, I started to let go of a lot of my baggage, and he was one of the biggest pieces of carry-on that I had trouble shaking off. This past year I felt a lot more at peace with my past, realizing how I contributed to our war, and how he had a lot of demons that he was battling as well that contributed to lashing out at me, just like how I would lash out at others from my demons. He was dealing with being gay in a completely anti-gay environment, which I can’t begin to understand how hard that must have been, and I know he had family issues that I am not going to air out on the Internet. I had my family issues and mental health issues, too. We actually weren’t very different. I always accepted that I would hold on to that part of my past and it was a part of me, that shame, that guilt, that loneliness…until today.

I was at work at one of my part-time jobs, when all of a sudden a guy came up to me and was talking about a David Yurman bracelet he was returning. He just talked to me, and thinking he was just another unhappy customer, I tried to just lend an ear and listen. I made a joke about the bracelet, and he half-laughed, as much as the joke warranted, and then I looked into his eyes and realized who it was. It was him. THE PERSON. I was mid sentence when I finally realized who it was, and my heart began to race. In my head I was like “Holy shit!!! It’s him! He’s lost so much weight, holy shit I didn’t even recognize him…wait, is he going to beat the shit out of me like he threatened all the time? Am I safe? Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, what was that one cool line I had saved from 2010 that I wanted to say to him? FUUUUUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING” and then literally as I was mid-thinking of something to say, something I always wanted to say to him, to confront him on how much he hurt me, etc etc… I drew a blank. Then I just had a clear head. There was nothing in there. I was completely calm. He was just a human I used to know 7 years ago. I asked him about his job, and he teaches special ed now, and seems really happy with it. I genuinely told him “good for you!”. I meant that. He asked me how I was doing, without a mocking cadence, and I told him what I was up to, and he was nice about it. We made nice small talk–small talk you don’t make with just anyone–and as we wrapped up I just blurted out “you look good!”. What? Huh? This person who made me feel so insecure and ugly looks GOOD? Suzanne!? COME ON! LET HIM HAVE IT!…but no. I genuinely thought he looked good, and I wanted to tell him. He lost a lot of weight and I know how hard that is to do. He said I looked good too. Now, that was probably a lie, but the fact he said it speaks volumes. I couldn’t believe it. We both had an incredibly pleasant conversation, catching up on each others’ lives, with no ulterior motive or putting each other down. We even complimented how we fucking LOOKED, the one thing we constantly ragged on each other for over the years as petulant teens. It felt completely freeing. We parted ways and I just sat down and said “holy shit” to myself as I let out a huge sigh of relief. I couldn’t believe it. All this time I had so much pain and all of these plans of “revenge” by living a super great life, and here he was, just being a guy helping out kids in special ed, being happy with himself as an out gay man, and here I was a girl being happy with myself as an admitted addict, having lots of odd jobs and working on this ole comedy and writing thing. It was better than hitting my one year sober, because instead of getting “revenge” on each other, we just both found what made us happy and went for it. We both were at peace. We could finally move on from being hurtful to each other because of our own pain that we may not have shared with others at the time.

I feel like everyone has some type of bully, weather it’s being their own worst enemy, their loved ones, or even just a bully from grade school that has affected our psyche in some way today. We all know it’s harmful to hold on to such toxic feelings, but it’s easier said than done. Now, I’m not saying go and reach out to everyone who did you wrong and ask what special ed class they’re teaching, but maybe take the time to realize how much those feelings of anger and or residual feelings of insecurity they left on your heart are holding you back in life. Forgiveness is the best revenge. Forgive them. Forgive yourself. Forgive me for being preachy. Take a deep breath and let it go. You’ll be better for it.

Maybe the entire conversation my bully and I had was fake and I fell for it, but I don’t think it was. What I can say is that the freedom from letting go of the bully I built up in my head is very, very real.

Take care, Jared. I hope you find that apartment you were looking for and got a refund for that tarnished bracelet.

Until we meet again,

x

#TotalHonestyTuesday Feature in “The Financial Diet” Vol 3

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Here’s another feature of ‪#‎totalhonestytuesday‬ in The Financial Diet! I have always been self-conscious of my thighs, as I’m sure many women can relate, and I decided to show them off to the world. The feedback has been overwhelming and awesome (from women, of course!). Love yourself and love your thunder thighs, ladies! Skinny, curvy, flat, voluptuous: you’re all beautiful. Stop rolling your eyes, it’s true!

Welcome to the #‎SummerofSuz‬!

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