Wednesday, October 26, 2011
So...
I still haven't dont that "People of Walmart" story behind the picture thing. Eventually I'll get it rolling...maybe.
Thought of the Day: It's been a while...
Greetings Minions! It is none other than your fearless leader, Anna. I have a favor to ask. Could you all go to your bank accounts and transfer about $100 bucks to mine? Thanks bunches.
So anyway, let me first give a shout out to my old frienemy, Anonymous. I hope your herpes are staying at bay. Would hate to think you couldn't go protest the war on account of an itchy breakout. Was that too much?...I'll admonish myself later. So anyway, I hope you are all doing well. I know I am. Let's see, in the months since I last posted, I have fallen totally in love with performing improv, and just recently started writing sketch comedy, with a very promising response to my sketches. The Pushers are awesome teachers! Oh, plus Horatio Sanz retweeted me on twitter, and I felt like the coolest kid on the block. I've also made some amazing friends who actually don't think it's cool to suck. They pretty much all work in the Hampton Roads comedy underground, or perform in bands, or are just awesome for breathing. It only took me fourteen years to become a part of this, but I don't plan on doing anything else, now that I have found it. I am sure the fact that I am amazingly happy makes that vein on the side of Anonymous's bulbous dome just throb with hate. Don't worry Anonymous, someday they'll find a cure for stupid, and then maybe you can do something great, too...lol, naw.
So let's see, current events. Lindsey Lohan is getting paid %1M to show her boobs in Playboy. You all know how much I love Playboy, so the thought of her booze-hound ass polluting the pages kinda makes me want to drink. But since so many old perverts want to see if her carpet matches her drapes, I'm sure that Hef will make a nice return...so that's good.
So Stephanie Meyer is still being encouraged to write...which means that Nietzsche could be right. I wonder what she's writing about, this time. Witches who only cast spells on people who have engaged in sex outside of marriage, and instead of flying on brooms, they drive Mercedes because their virgin butts can't ride in anything but the best...oh, and they sparkle, for no apparent reason, at 2:30 AM (the Witching Hour is 3 AM, but we all know how Ms. Meyer likes to fuck everything up...so...)
Well, it's time for me to place my offspring in their slumber pods (as my daughter sings Old McDonald had a farm, "he i he i ho...wit a him ho here and a him ho dare....he i he i ho,"....my kids are awesome), so I will dismiss you from this meeting of brains with one final thought. Occupy Wall Street, serious business, or just another opportunity for t-shirt companies to capitalize on new-age rabble rousers. Discuss.
So anyway, let me first give a shout out to my old frienemy, Anonymous. I hope your herpes are staying at bay. Would hate to think you couldn't go protest the war on account of an itchy breakout. Was that too much?...I'll admonish myself later. So anyway, I hope you are all doing well. I know I am. Let's see, in the months since I last posted, I have fallen totally in love with performing improv, and just recently started writing sketch comedy, with a very promising response to my sketches. The Pushers are awesome teachers! Oh, plus Horatio Sanz retweeted me on twitter, and I felt like the coolest kid on the block. I've also made some amazing friends who actually don't think it's cool to suck. They pretty much all work in the Hampton Roads comedy underground, or perform in bands, or are just awesome for breathing. It only took me fourteen years to become a part of this, but I don't plan on doing anything else, now that I have found it. I am sure the fact that I am amazingly happy makes that vein on the side of Anonymous's bulbous dome just throb with hate. Don't worry Anonymous, someday they'll find a cure for stupid, and then maybe you can do something great, too...lol, naw.
So let's see, current events. Lindsey Lohan is getting paid %1M to show her boobs in Playboy. You all know how much I love Playboy, so the thought of her booze-hound ass polluting the pages kinda makes me want to drink. But since so many old perverts want to see if her carpet matches her drapes, I'm sure that Hef will make a nice return...so that's good.
So Stephanie Meyer is still being encouraged to write...which means that Nietzsche could be right. I wonder what she's writing about, this time. Witches who only cast spells on people who have engaged in sex outside of marriage, and instead of flying on brooms, they drive Mercedes because their virgin butts can't ride in anything but the best...oh, and they sparkle, for no apparent reason, at 2:30 AM (the Witching Hour is 3 AM, but we all know how Ms. Meyer likes to fuck everything up...so...)
Well, it's time for me to place my offspring in their slumber pods (as my daughter sings Old McDonald had a farm, "he i he i ho...wit a him ho here and a him ho dare....he i he i ho,"....my kids are awesome), so I will dismiss you from this meeting of brains with one final thought. Occupy Wall Street, serious business, or just another opportunity for t-shirt companies to capitalize on new-age rabble rousers. Discuss.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Life: The best way to learn to laugh.
I just started reading my first "text book" in the field of work I should have been studying all along. It only took me three degrees to finally balls up, and take a step into the right direction. The book is Truth in Comedy, a manual of improvisation, and the dream is fourteen years in the making. Here is a little story, for those who care (or are still awake and need something to read...)
In 8th grade, I had characters. When my friends would tap my head, I would change channels to a new character, and just go with it. From this was born the "Anna's going to NYC," plan. After graduation, I was supposed to hop on the first plane to New York, and hit the comedy scene, and eventually, these characters that had been the brain-children of a daydreaming 13-year-old girl would become the next Mary Catherine Gallagher, Arianna and Roseanne Roseannadanna (not that one could ever compare with the magnificent Gilda Radner). Instead, I got wrapped up in a bad relationship, tried to join the navy, and went to junior college...and then college...and then grad school. I started a family with a wonderful man, and had two of the most animated, beautiful, funny kids imaginable. I lived. I am now 27-years-old, and because I decided to follow the advice of a man who thankfully made the statement that life is too short, and tomorrow may never come, I auditioned for a sketch comedy/improv group, and made the cut. Now, at 27, I am pursuing a dream that I was beginning to think would always be just that, a dream. I am not one who gets preachy, but I asked god to open a door for me, just open it, and I would walk through it...and low and behold, a door was presented.
Some might wonder whether I regret not taking that step nine years ago; whether I regret not stepping on a plane bound for NYC in pursuit of my dream. No. I do not. Why? Look, I'm a funny woman. I know that. Even without people telling me I’m funny, I know I am. My sense of humor has been my shield, my friend and my backbone most of my life, but at 18, I didn’t know a damn thing about life. In the nine years since graduating from high school, I have lost a parent, fallen down, gotten up, gotten married, been by myself, dealt with the navy, had two whacky kids, read way too many text books, made friends, lost friends, learned to appreciate things, learned to hate things I once took for granted, become friends with my mom, become friends with my enemies, been crapped on (both literally and figuratively), fallen down some more, adapted, overcome, and learned to believe in myself. I am finally a complete person. I am finally ready for this.
Life is a trip. If you have not developed some kind of a sense of humor after living life, you have obviously not been paying attention. When a door opens, don’t watch it close in hopes that it will open again because it just might not, and for goodness sake, make something out of what you’ve got, because life is the best lesson any of us will ever be given.
In 8th grade, I had characters. When my friends would tap my head, I would change channels to a new character, and just go with it. From this was born the "Anna's going to NYC," plan. After graduation, I was supposed to hop on the first plane to New York, and hit the comedy scene, and eventually, these characters that had been the brain-children of a daydreaming 13-year-old girl would become the next Mary Catherine Gallagher, Arianna and Roseanne Roseannadanna (not that one could ever compare with the magnificent Gilda Radner). Instead, I got wrapped up in a bad relationship, tried to join the navy, and went to junior college...and then college...and then grad school. I started a family with a wonderful man, and had two of the most animated, beautiful, funny kids imaginable. I lived. I am now 27-years-old, and because I decided to follow the advice of a man who thankfully made the statement that life is too short, and tomorrow may never come, I auditioned for a sketch comedy/improv group, and made the cut. Now, at 27, I am pursuing a dream that I was beginning to think would always be just that, a dream. I am not one who gets preachy, but I asked god to open a door for me, just open it, and I would walk through it...and low and behold, a door was presented.
Some might wonder whether I regret not taking that step nine years ago; whether I regret not stepping on a plane bound for NYC in pursuit of my dream. No. I do not. Why? Look, I'm a funny woman. I know that. Even without people telling me I’m funny, I know I am. My sense of humor has been my shield, my friend and my backbone most of my life, but at 18, I didn’t know a damn thing about life. In the nine years since graduating from high school, I have lost a parent, fallen down, gotten up, gotten married, been by myself, dealt with the navy, had two whacky kids, read way too many text books, made friends, lost friends, learned to appreciate things, learned to hate things I once took for granted, become friends with my mom, become friends with my enemies, been crapped on (both literally and figuratively), fallen down some more, adapted, overcome, and learned to believe in myself. I am finally a complete person. I am finally ready for this.
Life is a trip. If you have not developed some kind of a sense of humor after living life, you have obviously not been paying attention. When a door opens, don’t watch it close in hopes that it will open again because it just might not, and for goodness sake, make something out of what you’ve got, because life is the best lesson any of us will ever be given.
I used to think this phrase was so cliché, and really, it is…but right now, it seems so appropriate: Live, Laugh, and Love.
-Anna
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
And now this...
My blog has been silent for a while, as I have been fresh out of interesting things to say (...just being honest). I have decided to start something new on my fun little page called, "A picture is worth a thousand words..." I'll, of course, be drawing from a stockpile of "People of Walmart" photos, as well as other photos of shameful citizens embarrassing (or perhaps not so embarrassing, judging by their blatant disregard for tact) pictures that have found their way to the very public World Wide Web. I will be challenging myself to write a one thousand word essay about the photo (narrative style, research paper style...really whatever I am feeling that day), and will be extending the challenge to others.
Now remember, in order to comment on my page (and offer your own 1,000 word contribution), you have to be one of my Legions, so join my page, and let's have fun, because that is what Annarchy is all about; shameless, vulgar, profane, border-line personality disorder laden fun. Come join the party!
Now remember, in order to comment on my page (and offer your own 1,000 word contribution), you have to be one of my Legions, so join my page, and let's have fun, because that is what Annarchy is all about; shameless, vulgar, profane, border-line personality disorder laden fun. Come join the party!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
For my own good measure...
Dear Anonymous,
While I respect your right to free thought (and thank god it's free, because otherwise most people would be paying out the ass for pure garbage), I find the points you attempted to make to be kind of...well...stupid. Point one, that I make mention of the individuals from the blog in question regularly. Actually, I never make mention of anyone regularly accept my children, and this is mostly because they are far more entertaining than most all adults. Point two, that misery loves company. I am sure it does. You'll have to let me know. Point three, that I am a drama queen. Oh honey, I am just the Queen...no drama needed. Oh, and the richest part of all. Something about Prince Charming. Oh surely you jest.
Oh I could continue, as there is so much more I'd like to say, but as you chose to make your attacks under a cloak of anonymity I sadly cannot make personal attacks on you, as you have on me. Oh how I would love to put a name and face with a wordy individual such as yourself...mostly to make avoidance easier.
Well, anyway, I have this life to live. I'm really quite enjoying it. Ok then...buh-bye now..
While I respect your right to free thought (and thank god it's free, because otherwise most people would be paying out the ass for pure garbage), I find the points you attempted to make to be kind of...well...stupid. Point one, that I make mention of the individuals from the blog in question regularly. Actually, I never make mention of anyone regularly accept my children, and this is mostly because they are far more entertaining than most all adults. Point two, that misery loves company. I am sure it does. You'll have to let me know. Point three, that I am a drama queen. Oh honey, I am just the Queen...no drama needed. Oh, and the richest part of all. Something about Prince Charming. Oh surely you jest.
Oh I could continue, as there is so much more I'd like to say, but as you chose to make your attacks under a cloak of anonymity I sadly cannot make personal attacks on you, as you have on me. Oh how I would love to put a name and face with a wordy individual such as yourself...mostly to make avoidance easier.
Well, anyway, I have this life to live. I'm really quite enjoying it. Ok then...buh-bye now..
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Thought of the Day...
So the other night, when all of the storms were headed through here, all of the tornado warnings were going up, and the National Weather Service was issuing guidelines for the storm. In these guidelines, those in building were told to find shelter in an inside room on the lowest level of the dwelling they were in...while those in mobile homes were told to find shelter in a car or outside. What I deduced form this was, "If you are in a structurally sound building, find shelter. However, if you are in a trailer, your ass is better off outside with the tornado. Good luck." Does this make anyone else say what the fetch!?
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Thoughts...
I have the drive to do it. I have the ambition. I even have a pretty alright starter resume complete with training and experience. What I don't have is the ability to drop everything in one place, and go to L.A. or NY to audition for everything under the sun until I get lucky. I decided to start my family first, and then pursue my dreams. I do not regret this. I look at my kids, and realize that, even with as crazy as they make me at times, I never want to know what life without them or their dad would be like. I would never go back and do anything differently. That being said, I do wish there were more opportunities at my disposal out here. There are auditions out here. Heck, one of the biggest shows on TV is filmed just 5 hours away from here. The thing is, I have no help. My husband is active duty military, and no one in my life seems to understand this dream I have had since I was 8 years old. I want to act. I want to get lucky enough to get cast on a TV show before I'm 50. I want to make people laugh. I want to make people cry. I want to do all of this while still being a very active mom. Is that possible? I Know I would not be the only person in history to pull it off.
I am obviously just thinking out loud, but I think I have more than what it takes. I am not some bimbo who wants to act because she was once told by some sleazy old Sears photographer that she should be a model. I want to bring scripts to life; bring my own script ideas to life. I want to tell stories and be a part of the art form that is film. I want to be someone else between "action" and "cut"...Mike will be on shore duty, again, when I'm 30...maybe I can make it happen, then...I sometimes spread myself too thin, and forget that I count for something, too. Maybe I can volunteer at the VB theatre. There's always amateur night at the Funny Bone. It will happen...I just don't know when or how...but I do know that it will.
...I just need a boost.
I am obviously just thinking out loud, but I think I have more than what it takes. I am not some bimbo who wants to act because she was once told by some sleazy old Sears photographer that she should be a model. I want to bring scripts to life; bring my own script ideas to life. I want to tell stories and be a part of the art form that is film. I want to be someone else between "action" and "cut"...Mike will be on shore duty, again, when I'm 30...maybe I can make it happen, then...I sometimes spread myself too thin, and forget that I count for something, too. Maybe I can volunteer at the VB theatre. There's always amateur night at the Funny Bone. It will happen...I just don't know when or how...but I do know that it will.
...I just need a boost.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Thought of the day...
Trojan's new ad just does not appeal to me. When a condom ad could very easily double as an Icy Hot ad, this does not excite me...it will be cold, and then it will burn...a lot! No thanks!
Rant of the Day: Married Couples
Married couples. Now, even though I am married, I do not feel that my husband and I fall into the category I am about to "rip on." You know the ones. These couples on Wheel of Fortune who are all like, "I have been happily married, for 32 years, to the love of my life, Howard." Bullshit! Booooolsheeeeeet! No one has been happily married for 32 years. I never tell people I have been happily married for 5 and a half years, because I would be lying, and my mother smacked that dirty habit outta me a LONG time ago! Happily married. Happy, happy, happy. Except for the time your wonderful husband, Howard, slept with the nanny. Bet you weren't too happy then, Gladys ol' gal, were ya? Why do they have to be so freaking phony! I love Wheel of Fortune. I love solving the puzzle before the dipshit from Yale who thinks he's so great because he knows how to talk good. But those assclowns ruin the end for me. There are no happy endings for me when Howard and Gladys come to play.
Then there are those couples who think it's ok to give us normal couples advice. "Well Anna, it's give and take, it's give and take." Great, he can GIVE me his wallet and I will TAKE his credit card to the mall. There's always that woman with the perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect husband, and the oh so well behaved kids who wants to tell me how to remedy my severly dysfunctional family. At dinners out with other couples, all I want to do is drink and NOT have to wipe up boogers and food off of my kids for a few hours, and all they want to do is tag-team my husband and I on who needs to make a greater commitment to our marriage. As I'm texting my best friend about the ugly-ass dress this bitch is trying to pull off, and my husband is using his fork as a toothpick and his knife as a tiny mirror to pluck the remnants of steak from his teeth, all I can think is, "who does this June Cleaver bitch think she is??? So we aren't up each others asses 24/7. So Mike smokes. So I bitch...constantly. It's who we are! It's what we do!"
No, we are not Barbie and Ken. We're more like Dan and Roseanne. We have our ups, we have our downs. We are not always thrilled with each other, but we are both smart enough to know that no one else would have made this long of a commitment to either of us, so we stick with it. We take it day to day, praying that neither of us will wake up to the other putting a pillow over our face, and that's ok...that is ok.
Then there are those couples who think it's ok to give us normal couples advice. "Well Anna, it's give and take, it's give and take." Great, he can GIVE me his wallet and I will TAKE his credit card to the mall. There's always that woman with the perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect husband, and the oh so well behaved kids who wants to tell me how to remedy my severly dysfunctional family. At dinners out with other couples, all I want to do is drink and NOT have to wipe up boogers and food off of my kids for a few hours, and all they want to do is tag-team my husband and I on who needs to make a greater commitment to our marriage. As I'm texting my best friend about the ugly-ass dress this bitch is trying to pull off, and my husband is using his fork as a toothpick and his knife as a tiny mirror to pluck the remnants of steak from his teeth, all I can think is, "who does this June Cleaver bitch think she is??? So we aren't up each others asses 24/7. So Mike smokes. So I bitch...constantly. It's who we are! It's what we do!"
No, we are not Barbie and Ken. We're more like Dan and Roseanne. We have our ups, we have our downs. We are not always thrilled with each other, but we are both smart enough to know that no one else would have made this long of a commitment to either of us, so we stick with it. We take it day to day, praying that neither of us will wake up to the other putting a pillow over our face, and that's ok...that is ok.
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