Another List of Yesteryear.

Things I've done since October 2013:

1. I traveled to Europe for the first time since college — this time to Ireland with my sister and mom. The three of us had never taken a trip anywhere together, and save for three blow ups* (one each), we had a pretty excellent time. 
• Colleen's was right after landing when my mom picked her up from the airport at 6am and somehow a 20 minute car ride took 3 hours. ("Fuck one way roads."-Mommy Sheila)
• Mine was post getting hammered in Dingle when my mom told me I couldn't get more hammered. I was a woman outside of herself. I've had many a terrible moment, but I think that one takes the cake as far as intent to cause pain.
• Sheila's came when Colleen and I made her ride 33 miles around the Dingle Peninsula. She claimed she couldn't do it and had allegedly not ridden a bike in eight years. Lies. Not a month ago my father made her go for a bike ride around our home town and she claimed again that she hadn't ridden a bike in eight years. What gives, Sheila?
2. I bought my first car: a brand new 2014 black Volkswagon Jetta SE. In the '50s someone my age might be in the market to buy a house or pop out a child. To that I say, this car is my house. She doubles as my baby. Some of you may pipe up, "But, B, what about that sweet ass Pontiac Grand AM you used to cruise around Chicago in?" — well, that was a family car that first belonged to my sister and then eventually bopped around between my younger brothers and me. It was not technically mine, and I am glad for that. My taste is better.
3. I said goodbye to too many of my best friends when I left Chicago. But I did it. I hopped into my new ride and drove from Chicago to Los Angeles in five days stopping at hotels and the houses of friends and family along the way. It was my first cross country road trip without my family, my first time driving further West than Iowa, and my first time doing it with a friend.
4. We drove. We stopped in Iowa City and Des Moines, cruised through Nebraska during the day time, fully experiencing flyover land. Carly almost got a ticket from an eager police officer, and I went through my first corn maze. We went to Denver for the first time. We hiked Red Rocks. We saw dinosaur fossils. We stayed in the Unsinkable Molly Brown's Hotel. We bought trashy swimsuits from H&M and PacSun. We drove up and down a mountain by accident in Boulder, Colorado. We didn't find that waterfall hike we were looking for. We drove through the desert. We took Route 66. We heard the Barenaked Ladies song "Odds Are" 100 times. We drove and hiked through Monument Valley. We drove to the Grand Canyon. We wore our trashy swimsuits in the hot tub at the Grand Canyon Inn we stayed at near the North Rim. We were hungry, and nowhere was open. No pizza delivered, and we split a smushed granola bar for dinner. We hiked. We drove on. We drove through Arizona. We listened to the Maria Bamford special three times on Comedy Central XM radio. We crossed into California blasting the Beach Boys and then that song "California," aka The OC theme song. We unloaded my car. And I moved into my first Los Angeles apartment.
5. Only two weeks later I got my first job at my first interview and worked for a talent agency for the first time — that is until I quit that job because it was terrible. I reflected on the decision to quit with happiness. Quitting that job meant knowing that if I didn't like something I could change it, so I did.
6. During that time at that awful position, my mom came and visited for her birthday. She asked, "What's LA got anyway? Some cement and one palm tree?" I went home for Thanksgiving, then my friend (and now current roommate) Julie Pearson visited, a few days later my friend Mike Kelly visited, and after that I went home for Christmas. Everyone asked me how LA was for what seemed like hours and probably was hours. I answered with "It's great"-s and "I'm so glad I did this to myself"-s. I did it because I both believed it and wanted to believe it. Through gritted teeth and a faux smile sometimes, I said many things I didn't believe at the time, but at the end of the day, I really am glad I made this choice.
7. I decided to finally take voiceover class and now I have this great demo I made with Carroll Kimble Casting. I'm shopping it around.
8. I had my first New Years in LA at a speakeasy called No Vacancy. Aziz Ansari was there, and I felt so cool. Zooey Deschanel was at the after party, and I was drunk. I stepped on her foot, said sorry, and felt less cool.
9. I took my first UCB classes; I took my first Groundlings classes; I took my first workshops; I took a solo sketch writing class. I jumped fully in with all my clothes on. And it felt like sinking sometimes. For me, it's become increasingly evident that I love taking classes, but I haven't finished any programs here because I am so tired of improv class. So, I recently signed up for a Commercial Auditioning class for working actors with Killian Murphy at the request of my agent. Also, I have an agent. Now I consider myself a working actor.
10. I've been part of three short films since moving. I've been in a handful of sketch videos. I've done a slew of improv shows and handful of sketch shows.
11. I tried stand up for the first time, and I loved it. I need to do it more because it makes me think of the world differently.
12. I made an independent improv team with friends that I knew peripherally and now consider best. We pretend that we want to write a play together, and hopefully we will some day. Our name is Windy City Gyros, so called named after that delicious gyro restaurant in Chicago on Broadway. I once dropped off Anthony Oberbeck there after a (long pause) rehearsal instead of at his house. I remember thinking that of anyone I knew, I could certainly imagine him actually living in the basement of Windy City Gyros. I hate the name of our team, but I love us. 
13. I worked as PA on the set of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" I had the best time, running around for 14 hours in a row, checking on things, getting stuff, gophering essentially. For a busy body like me, it was the best. Like camp, but you got paid. It was there I met my friend Tori who became my second LA roommate.
14. I wrote a two-person sketch show with David Blum in two (or was it three?) weeks called "Faithful: Relationships, Schmelationships" performed at the LA Comedy Festival. We had fun, and I love(d) writing with Blum.
15. My family took a trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, and I got some of my favorite stand-up material out of it. For the first time in a decade we all vacationed together in the same spot. For eight people to somehow manage that was a trip in more than one way.
16. My dad came and visited Col, Kev and I, then we went to Santa Barbara. We rode bikes along the ocean path, went to the zoo, had a fancy dinner after my dad schmoozed the hostess into seating us, tasted so many different kinds of wine, and had a really lovely time. My dad watched me do stand up about him, and he laughed.
17. My friend Joe Underbakke came to visit and his itinerary showed me all the reasons why I love living here. Mike came to visit again, and we went to our first Dodgers game! I proceeded to go to three more baseball games this year, none of which were White Sox games, which was sad, but in the end just fine. (Angels with Blum, Dodgers again with my indie team, and a Rangers game when I went to Dallas to visit my brother, Sean.)
18. I went to visit my brother Sean in Dallas when he was working there on a contract job. It was the first time I ever spent more than a few hours one-on-one with Sean. We went to the Stock Yards, I sat on a bull, we got barbecue, he took me to his favorite breakfast spot: The Waffle House, we stayed at the Hilton one night, he took me to the Rangers game, picked me up and dropped me off at the airport, and we didn't fight once.
19. My friend Nancy and her daughter came to visit too, and I played hostess, showing them all the reasons I live here. My friend Carmen Christopher came, and I showed him reasons I love it here. My friend Cynthia Bangert came, and I showed her reasons she should move here. My mom and little brother Timmy came, and I unsuccessfully showed them why I love it here. 
20. I had an existential crisis for four weeks after my birthday through Independence Day. I wrote a lot. I was very unhappy, very aware of my loneliness despite surrounding myself with people, like a shell of myself. My comedy was really funny (and I don't even care if that sounds conceited), because I was really sad. It was the only thing that made me feel good.
21. It was then I wrote my first solo show: "Heart/s," which I performed in both LA and Chicago at three different theaters. So many of my friends came, so many regular audience members came, and I was so overjoyed at the outcome and their reactions. It was nothing short of heartwarmingly unreal. I'll be performing it again soon this November at Second City Hollywood, as part of a double bill with my solid friend, Rich Baker, performing his solo show, "Let's Break Up." 
22. I dated people. Now, I date one person, John, and I am so happy about that (mostly because his Pittsburgh accent provides unending opportunities for me to do spot-on impressions of him).
23. I went home to Chicago for my cousin Colleen's wedding at the end of August, and it was a much needed respite. I bought my first black tie gown for the wedding. I performed "Heart/s" at my favorite theater in Chicago, The Playground Theater. I started the show late because my dad was late, and I didn't want him to miss it. At the end he said he would have watched 15 more minutes. I smiled. I dressed up in an all gold jumpsuit and did a fun music video lip-sync to Run DMC's "Tricky" with my dear friends Emma Mullens and Jeremy Pautz. I went to Michigan to my parents cabin with one of my closest friends, Joe Underbakke, along with my mom, sister and dad. We had the sort of vacation you have when you're nine, and I was the happiest girl. I saw the new iO and the new Annoyance, and I saw how many of my friends have decided to move out of Chicago, and I saw all the ones who have decided to stay. I cleared out my childhood bedroom of everything I didn't want. I saved all of my journals, short stories, essays and plays. I found the first play I'd ever written, "It's Complicated."
24. I became part of my first iO West Harold team, Steel Shark. They are all excellent and hilarious players. It's exciting to be part of a group of people that are not just fun and talented, but are real friends. At the risk of sounding weird, I want to say this, I value them an insane amount.
25. After the success of "Heart/s" I was confident in my solo material, and so was my friend Joel Axelrod, so he booked me for the top slot of his new show at iO "Risky Business." I performed "All That Glitters," a collection of characters who all wear that gold jumpsuit from my Run DMC days. A slew of friends came. My sister Colleen and I got dinner beforehand, she watched the show, and so did John. I was nervous because, well, nerves, but it was so fun. John and I got "Good Job, Brigid" milkshakes at Mel's afterward. 
26. I joined a gym, vomited up half a bagel with cream cheese and a handful of blueberries onto one of the personal trainer's desks after pushing myself past my brink, and then somehow signed up for 7 training sessions, which have inexplicably been morphed into a recurring monthly fee. You could say I've lived to regret joining a gym. However, I've beat the system and figured out a way to get out of my (hahaha) not-so-ironclad personal training contract. I maintain I was under the influence of vomitsanity so cannot be held accountable for any of my choices. I don't know how I got home.
27. I started a new job that came in the nick of time — before the fear of being a poor starving artist became a reality, but not before I thought "Shit, I'm going to be a poor starving artist. I'm not going to be able to afford anymore shoes." I enjoy the job for now, and I'm thankful that I have one. It provides me with the chance to meet people in the industry, watch Q-and-A's with actors like Billy Bob Thornton(!), and the flexibility to go on an audition when called, plus I get to keep living in LA. Sure, I'm sitting a lot (see last blog), but it's a fair trade for now.
28. I celebrated a year of living here, and at no point did I feel like I made a bad decision in coming here. To commemorate my year, I took myself to my favorite coffee shop, Bricks and Scones, vented to my roommate about my job (I'm still a millennial artist lady, after all), and then cooked dinner and watched Tommy Boy with John.

the past/ sitting/ and the future.

You can light the fire that's in your head

Put it off, tomorrow will come instead

We don't watch the tower that tells us when

Pull the wicked flower out from its bed.

The Dodos, "Walking"

This time last year I was passing through Arizona, crossing the border into California, and eventually rolling up into Los Angeles onto Russell Avenue. A new apartment in my continued life, a new part.

One of the most generous, caring and scattered people I've ever met and loved forever, Carly Mandell, was in tow. And sweet, thoughtful, generous and gentle, Alli Arnold, was waiting with fresh homemade cookies and beers. Everything I saved from my old life was with me, ready to be part of what my parents called my "new adventure." (I originally thought that was a rather condescending sentiment, but then again, when my sister Colleen moved out here in 2008, my parents referred to Los Angeles as "Camp Hollywood" for two years.)

Three-hundred-sixty-five days isn't that many days (even if spelling it out makes it seem the opposite), and the longer I am here, the more I realize that truth. It's so funny. The first question new people ask of you tends to be, "How long have you been here?" or some derivative, and after about three months, I literally became old news; that felt so good. It feels good to be considered part of this insanely transient city where people are like migrating birds, telling themselves: "I'll give it a month," "I'll give it a year," "I'm just testing out the waters," "I'm going to see what I'm made of," etc.

But then you meet the people that are here for decades, that grew up here, that have no intention of leaving — and you're a baby to them, this one-year-old baby with chubby cheeks, a can-do attitude, and more blind faith in their talent than maybe even armed with talent. But as Steve Martin says in his book Born Standing Up, "Persistence is a great substitute for talent."

In some ways I thought moving here would change everything, but it didn't. It didn't change my drive — it encouraged it. It didn't change my energy — it grew it. It didn't change my goals — it clarified them. Making this move has made my life more pointed. I know where I want to go, and all of my choices (I hope) are evidence of that, down to the variety of jobs I've held since landing in La-La-Land.

Even now, after months of go-go-go, for the last four weeks I have spent an unusual amount of time sitting down — first in my car — then in a chair — that's in my office. So much sitting at this new job, a short term gig that will take up my days until the end of the year. It's too much sitting for me. I don't know how so many people do jobs like this for their whole lives. The only logical reason that one could do this much sitting is because it's what you have to do in order to keep living in Los Angeles because living is expensive and when you're not at this job you're trying to be a paid actor. (Run on sentence to illustrate my psychotic ability to do a million things, however frantically/poorly.)

I am so thankful that I know this won't be how I spend my life in the long run. I am so thankful that I am not content to bounce around from day-job to day-job without the hope that my persistence, talent, comedic sensibility, look, and all these things a million people have, but that I somehow illogically think will make me different — will actually make me different.

And it's fine. It's fine that this is what you have to do. People don't talk about the grind they had before they did what they want to be doing. It's the first chapter to the rest of your life. So right now, yes, it seems that most of my life is going from one sitting job to the next job I sit at, but fortunately for me, there's a smattering of film projects, sketch shows, improv performances and auditions in between. I am so thankful.

But seriously — I cannot believe how much sitting I do. (My next post will be a break down of the amount of sitting I do, if you're curious.)

So here's to being here for another year, and all the years after that.

A "goodbye to my old life" list.

A few years ago I made a huge list of all the things I had accomplished in my first year after graduating college. Today I went through my "pieces of paper with notes, bits and bots written on them." I have a lot of these. They're on scraps of paper. They're on receipts. They're ripped out from notebooks. They are a collection of the things I deemed important at some point in the last year or so.

I found one particular piece of paper that's a to-do list of things I had to get done before moving to LA. It's the longest list. I made it during a meeting at work. I remember thinking "I don't have anything to add, and also this meeting isn't pertinent to me anymore, but I guess I'll stay."

To Do:

• iPhone (Sepho) - I see where my priorities were. I don't know what Sepho means
• MacBook Pro - I ended up waiting to purchase one of these until about two months ago.
• Final Draft - Still haven't gotten it, but my brother, Kevin, gave me a copy of MovieMagic which has been really a great system.
• Boxes - I'm assuming at this point I thought I was going to rent a Uhaul and have everything perfectly packed into 3x3x3 boxes on boxes on boxes. I didn't end up doing that and most of my furniture is at my old apartment with my old life and my best friend to keep it company.
• Shin compression - For those of you who don't know, when I was hit by a car, the woman who nailed me hit my shin pretty hard too and tore the fascia, which is essentially the casing around all of our muscles beneath our skin. When it tears, the muscle becomes herniated, so I have a slight bump. I am self-conscious.
• 5 video sketches - These did not happen, but that's ok. I did a lot of other writing.
• Invent America - This is one of those sketches. My friend Erin moved away onto a boat for a while so we ended up never doing it, but it would've been cool, and we still can at some point.
• Apartment sublet - This I did. No thanks to my nut landlord (SUSAN, the hateful) who every single time I talked to her made me cry or made me yell — either way, I was a teary mucus-y mess. Some people are just volatile. I've never dealt with a worse person.
• Sell bed - I did this too! My cousin and close confidante Kathleen got this bad girl. 
• I ended up giving mostly everything else away or leaving it for the perfect Cynthia Bangert (desk, chair, couch, rug, kitchen chairs)
• Mail art - This was a stupid idea. I just wrapped it in blankets and put it in my car. It took up a lot of space, but it was worth it.
• Pack stuff for Kev and Col (my siblings) to take. Neither of them took anything back to LA for me because they said they didn't want to wait for baggage claim. True story. It's fine, but at the time, I was like, "Really? Whatever."
• Talk to MA (that is my Chicago agent that, while very kind, was not very good)
• SketchTest - I did this. It's a great show in Chicago where you can essentially put up ideas, thoughts, semi-finished sketches and see how they work in front of people on a stage)
• Ireland - Sept 25-Oct 6 - This was the best trip. I am so glad my mom, sister and I could do this together.
• Shower for Quinns - My cousin Brian got married, and my mom wanted me to help her throw the shower. I did. And it was nice. My cousin Colleen is getting married later this summer and my mom wanted me to come home to help throw the shower again. I'm not, but it would've been nice. I think I have to stay in LA without going anywhere for a while. I am going home at the end of August though for the wedding. It will be good.
• Michigan? - I'm really sad I didn't make time to go to Michigan last summer. I haven't been in so long, and it's really one of my favorite places. 
• Call David B - David Balkan is one of the best people I think I know, or that's out there in the world, period. I feel very lucky to have a mentor and friend in him.
• Call Kevin - Kevin is my baby brother who I love so much. It would have been next to impossible for me to feel as comfortable as I have been able to be in LA without him and Colleen, our sister.
• Call Col - Colleen and I are really lucky to have one another. Sometimes we don't tell each other what's going on in our lives, and I hate that. I hate not knowing how she is doing and that's become less and less of how our relationship is. I'm glad she's my neighbor. And I'm glad she cares about me. I get scared when I think about how we're all getting older and it makes my heart stop when I think about a world where one of us won't be there and the other will.
• Call Alli - Alli was my first Chicago roommate. She was my first LA roommate. She moved back to NYC, and I completely understand why, but I miss her, and I took our friendship for granted when we lived together. I'm really sorry about that.
• Car insurance for Pat Anderson - had to get it, also had to get a car. I really like my car. Pat Anderson is my lawyer. Or was. I am finally done with dealing with insurance claims and medical bills and the general stress that living after a really scary accident brings up. It's been 2 years. Things are ok.
• Credit cards - I don't know what this means. I think I was concerned about my credit score because of all the medical bills. But we're good here.
• Contact Bank of America - Ugh, the worst bank. I canceled all my things with them. A weight was lifted.
• PG Sched Sept, Oct, Nov. - I used to schedule the PG shows and for whatever reason was always stressed about it. I think I just took on too much because I didnt want to deal with things in my life, so I was just busy all the time. For those that are very close to me, thanks for seeing beyond this crazy person exterior.
• Meeting with Thomas about doing calendar - Thomas Einstein is a very good friend to me. He took over the scheduling with Jake Miller, and they've both been amazing. I talked to both of them at length last week and feel very lucky that despite being very far apart, we are close.
• Long Pause - My sketch group. I am forever thankful for the day Chris Bragg came into the Annoyance while I was interning and invited me to be part of my favorite group in Chicago. Thank you.
• Chris Gaines - One of the craziest shows and most fun casts. It was just a fun idea that Greg Ott dreamed up. He's a really good writer, and I like him a lot. I felt, I don't know, just lucky, I guess, that he invited me into the show. I only wish Bryan Duff had stayed in the show. That idiot.
• Goodbye Party 10/12? Honestly, this was a weird night. I said goodbye to those I love.
• Denver (Aug 19, Sept 1, Sept 9, Sept 30) - My iO improv team's final shows. So fun. Great group. Miss it. Love it.
• Annoyance Party - August 25 - I don't think I went to this. No, I did. This was the party right before they closed the old space. Now they just opened the new space. And, I so look forward to seeing it when I'm home later this summer.
• Brian Q wedding 10/11 - That wedding was a good time.
• Alinea - I took myself out to a fancy as hell 10 course dinner with my friend David Blum, Jessica Maciejeski and her lovely boyfriend Blake. I don't know how to spell Jessica's last name, and she goes by "The Treat" on facebook, so I will never know.
• Commercial and online? - What does this mean?
• Sept 5 - massage? - My old boss and friend, Casey bought me a massage for my birthday because he is the kindest.
• NYC (?) when? - This did not happen. It couldn't have. There is no time.
• CTA - I still have $100 in CTA money that I guess I can still use despite that new thing they have that begins with a V. I don't know. Vesta? No. I don't know. I could google it, but this is more fun.

So, this is my list. It was so full. Everything happened so fast, too fast. And, there still wasn't enough time. Carly and I left Chicago together on October 15th at 4pm. I know. I had to stop at the dealership in the morning. My mom came with me in a different car. When we pulled away from each other, she turned right and I turned left, and we held up traffic for a long time at the intersection of Route 41 Skokie Highway and Park in Highland Park. We were looking at each other from our separate cars, going into our separate lives, waving at each other and crying. It was really hard. Her face.

I write in coffee shops so I don't cry when I write, but I'm crying right now at Coffee+Food on Melrose. Well, I'm tearing up because I can't be that girl. I can't be the girl who openly weeps at Coffee+Food on Melrose. 

Carly was a champ. A real champ. I am so glad she was my transition friend. She is light. She is joy filled. She is what it means to be excited. And she's not a terrible driver, despite that police officer in Nebraska who wanted to give her a ticket, but then didn't because we are so cute. I'm not a great driver. I'm not a bad driver. I just want to go fast...like Ricky Bobby. Ha. Anyway. We had a goodbye coffee at Asado with Joe and Cynthia the day or so before: our quartet. We all cried. Even Joe. I want to remember what he said, "Oh, we're doin' this?" I think was along the lines.

When I went to get Carly on the actual day, she was so funny. She had a purple backpack for the week.  For anyone that has ever seen her in the world ever, you know the bag I'm talking about. Girl does not leave home without it. And she also had an orange creamsicle colored towel that we ended up using to clean off dirt from my car because I thought it was stupid to get a carwash while on a road trip, even though we legit could not see anything at one point. I mean, it is stupid, though, a carwash on a road trip, please. I kept that towel.

With every mile I got further from Chicago and closer to LA. Obviously. But it was weird. It was the slowest motion. My life changed, and I was witnessing the change. I was the one driving. I was the one making it happen. I was doing this to myself. I don't know how to describe it. It was like my heart kept falling when I would look at the mile markers or the "Welcome to" whatever state signs. This thing that I had dreamt of doing for years was finally happening. I was doing it. And I remembered why it was so hard and why it took me so long to do it — because of people. I knew how much I would miss my people.

I'm still shocked by how much I miss people. I don't know if it's shock, but I think it's a little that I did not know the depths of some of my relationships until I wasn't there in them, living them anymore. Even as I fill my time with work, with new friends, with new experiences, new shows, new improv teams, new everything, it's hard. 

I already had a whole life in Chicago. I didn't realize how deep my investment was there. And, I cashed it all in for something new. That's exciting, but it's scary. Los Angeles is the first place I've ever moved where I have no intention of going back to my old life. This is it for me.