A few days ago I recieved a myspace message from Tahnee.

I feel like we should know eachother...except we don't. I used to work front of house at IA, but I moved to Chicago in August to pursue improv. At the same time, you moved to IA, so we never met. Buuut now (this is where it gets strange), a friend sent me Arnie's blog, and when I found out he was dating you, I started to read your blog. And looking at all your pictures makes me miss home like crazy. So thanks for the blog as I am living vicariously through you.

-Tahnee
(I am probably as crazy as this sounds, but I feel like we are in Big and switched lives or something)

Reading this made me miss Chicago like crazy. All I could think was 'What a great place to move, I bet she's having a lot of fun.' She's probably thinking the same thing about me.

Tahnee, this picture of the Freedom Trail is for you. Enjoy.

Jackie, Doug, and I split a Scorpion Bowl at The Hong Kong, a Chinese restaurant in Harvard Square. A Scorpion Bowl is a bunch of different liquors, pineapple juice, cranberry juice, and orange slices. When you get to the bottom half of the bowl it starts to taste like Listerine. It's gross but traditional in Boston. A few friends in Chicago, originally from the Boston area, told me this was one of the first things I had to have. Check it off the list.

Above the Hong Kong is a comedy theater. I found out that a lot of Chinese restaurants host improv groups and stand up comedians. In Chicago most improv done outside a theater happens at bar and is referred to as 'barprov.' The idea of improv at a Chinese restaurant is as bizarre to me as Canadian bags of milk; it's functional but not what I'm used to.

Improv at a Chinese restaurant doesn't have a name. I will call it 'chineserestaurantprov.'

This is how Paulie communicates with the tenants of the building. Love notes taped on the front door, affectionately scrawled sideways on lined notebook paper. Usually they are written in pen and then certain words are underlined with red marker so we know that if he was saying this to our face, these are the parts he would yell. Then afterthoughts are written on the top or the side, also in red marker; if in person he would have left and then come back ten seconds later to say these things, which he always does. Before any conversation with Paulie really ends he will have left and come back three or four times.

The one on the far left says:

(On top in red marker) Stop doing this 3rd time.

(In pen) Who (underlined red marker) is the friggin idiot (underlined red marker) who put four bags of garbage out at 7:45 this morning the garbage goes by at 6:30. I had to give someone $20 to take the garbage to another street.

That 'friggin idiot' is my other roommate. I hope we can settle this over spinach lasagna and some of the good bread.

Stacey P. and Chet cut the cake at their baby shower.*

Highlights:

Jeremy: If it's a boy you should name it Colonel.

Norm: I hope you are considering the ramifications of raising this child in a Christian home.

Rachel: This is the angriest baby shower ever.

By far, my favorite moment of the night occurred while Chet and Stacey P. were opening their gifts. As they began Jeremy quietly snuck out of the theater. Ten minutes later he came barreling down the stairs with an impish grin and flung a card in Chet and Stacey P.'s general direction. It was clear he just went to CVS, located above the theater, and got the first thing he saw.

Chet: Oh, a Loews gift card. Thank you very much.

Jeremy: This baby shower is too baby-centric. I am giving to your home.

*the glowing orb at the bottom of the picture IS a cake and not a hypnotic crystal ball that has Chet in its' grasp. I'm still taking blind pictures and can't turn off the flash. Thank you for bearing with me, hopefully I'll get better at this.

As I said, there are a lot of people visiting.

Kara her boyfriend Kevin are in town and came to the show last night. Kara and I met in an acting class five years ago, and have since done a few sketch shows and worked together at the salon together. We refer to each other as 'my very first improv friend.'

Kara decided a long time ago that she hates improv but loves sketch, and has ended up being in some great sketch groups. One, The Crying Diamonds, was hailed 'the most promising new sketch group of the year' by the Chicago Reader. My show incorporates both so I figured Kara would have mixed feelings about it.

Kara: Ahhhh! Sarah I feel like a proud momma. I can't WAIT to talk to you about the show and tell you everything I liked and everything I...you know.

Lots of visitors this weekend.

Tonight Ryan was back in town so we decided to get some pizza before the show and take a walk through the North End.

Ryan: Do you ever wish that you could just leave a place for like 4 or 5 months and then come back?

We made our way to the theater so he could say hi to the rest of the cast.

Mike: Are you going to see the show?

Ryan: No, I'm going to watch Micah do stand up and then I'll be back to play in the Midnight Show.

Jeremy: Classy.

Mike: Yeah, you could have shown up at 11:45 and told us you just got in town, but no...you show up and hour before the show, at the theater you worked in, where your friends are, and decide not to stay.

But he did come back and play in the Midnight Show, along with Micah and Matt H., another friend from Chicago who used to work at the theater. It was great to have them back.

Stacey and Bob decided to see the show tonight. I tried to take some pictures with my old camera.

Me: It's hard because I can't see what I'm taking a picture of.

Stacey: Why don't you just look through the viewfinder.

Me: The what? Oh...I didn't think of that.

On a side note: I think this picture is good evidence that couples begin to look like eachother as time passes.

Yay! Yay Yay Yay!

Today I went to Andover for Thanksgiving at Stacey's parent's house. Her family was very inviting and the food was great. While Bob and I were getting food we noticed a small serving dish of, what looked like, stuffing placed right next to the enormous bowl of Portuguese stuffing. No one had taken any.

Bob: What is this?

Me: I don't know. Let's try it.

We each took a small spoonful and sat down next to Stacey's parents.

Stacey Dad: Oh look! You took some of my turnip puff! Try it.

Stacey Mom rolled her eyes. Bob and I took a bite at the same time while Stacey's Dad eagerly watched.

Bob: It's definitely not as bad as I thought it would be.

Stacey's Dad went to the buffet, grabbed the rest of the turnip puff in one hand and a big serving spoon in the other.

Stacey's Dad: Here Sarah, you want more? Have more. (Yelling to the rest of the family, all 35 of them) WHO WANTS SOME TURNIP PUFF?!? IT'S GOING FAST!

After dinner I grabbed my new camera. I turned it on and...the screen went green. Suddenly the door to the front of the camera was stuck. My second camera was broken. Arnie had been having problems with it before, but it never stopped working. Two days in my hands and it's done. I've never believed that people are genuinely unlucky, but now I'm starting to wonder.

But there is an upside to all this, I have figured out that I can still take pictures with my old camera, I just can't see the picture while I'm taking it. Until I get Arnie's camera fixed expect a lot of out of focus photos with too much flash.

Doug and I went out for a few drinks tonight. This is Aziz, our cab driver who brought us back to the North End.

He was playing techno music and with each song he would declare 'This is my favorite song!' and start flashing the dome lights on and off to the beat of the music, creating our own little dance party.

Doug got his phone number and decided he's going to get a second job so he can afford to hire Aziz as his personal driver.

I flew back to Boston today. I was running a bit late and my bag was the last to get checked for the flight. When I picked it up in Boston this was attached to my suitcase. I'm still not sure how it's useful to the baggage workers, it feels more like a slap on the wrist.

On the drive to the airport I was telling Arnie that this trip made me feel like I still live in Chicago and the idea of living in both cities gave me some comfort.

Arnie: But isn't that what made it harder at first?

And he's right. I don't know how to describe the difference this trip made but I do know that Chicago doesn't feel as far away as it did four months ago.

One more picture from my Grandparent's anniversary party. This, along with all the pictures posted this weekend, was taken with Arnie's camera.

In the summer of 2004, while living in Arizona, Arnie bought a new camera and started a photoblog.

In the spring of 2005 he began a second photoblog, part of it documenting his move back to Chicago. Like this, it was a picture-a-day during one year. If you are reading this, there's a good chance you've seen it.

When we started dating I was surprised at how many pictures he took each day. I initially worried that he might be one of those people who takes pictures to capture memories they're not having cause they're always taking pictures, but quickly realized it was for the blog. As we became more comfortable he would try to sneakily take candid photos of me, but rarely succeeded. We would be talking and all the sudden he would get a very serious look on his face while staring me down...As if to say, 'If you are focusing on my stare you won't see the camera in my left hand at my side.'

Arnie's on his third photoblog. He decided to buy himself a new camera and graciously give me his old one to take back to Boston. On his blog he wrote, "As romantic gestures go, it's not that grand, but it'll work."

It's one of the sweetest things he's ever done.

Today I went to Stacey's house. This is her (and Bob's) 6 month old puppy Arlo.

Stacey: I'm worried about leaving him over Thanksgiving. Last time we brought him to 'that place' he played with the other dogs so much he made himself sick.

Stacey is from Boston so she will be there for the upcoming holiday and has been nice enough to invite me. She has mentioned it will be 'insane' more than a few times. I have yet to meet someone who describes their family functions as 'sane.'

Tonight I was lucky enough to perform with Cowlick at the Playground.

Usually three teams perform each night, but tonight there were four. The first team that performed was a high school team mostly made up of 14 year old kids. They brought a big audience with them, mostly proud parents and friends...young friends. There was a seven year old in the audience.

Cowlick has a tendency to do dirtier shows and we don't like being censored, so we were a little thrown off.

Tim: Look I love kids, but get mad as hell when people think they can just bring their kids anywhere. Let's call our show 'Fame is a myth and youth is fleeting.'

Eventually the seven year old (and her parents) left before we went on, but we still tried our best to be a tame...although I did refer to someone as 'a retard' which I didn't feel great about afterwards.

The show ended so we headed to a bar for a fellow improviser's birthday party and it was great to see so many people. On three occasions people told me it felt like I had been gone for a year. It's only been less than four months.

I'm back in Chicago for a few days and tonight was my Grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary. It's hard to get all nine kids in the same room so when we do; a lot of pictures are taken.

Peggy (my aunt standing on the far right): Sarah we look great in that picture. It's too bad that when family photos are taken the people on the outsides always die first.

I kept reminding myself to ask my Grandma how Grandpa proposed, but every time I saw her she would grab my arm, making me spill half my drink on my hand, and pull me towards her friends.

Grandma: This is my granddaughter Sarah! The one that lives in Boston! Sarah this is (insert name here).

Immediately after this she would leave forcing me to have awkward conversations with people I didn't know. Almost all of the conversations were about Boston.

Everyone drinks Dunkin Donuts coffee in Boston. Including the streets performers. I used to have Starbucks everyday, since the move I've had it...maybe three times.

I took this picture on September 17th.

Last night I went out for drinks with Doug.

Me: So guess what happened to my camera.

Doug: Oh, I heard. That's horrible.

Me: You wanna see it? It's kinda neat looking.

Doug: I don't think I can handle it.

Me: Why?

Doug: Because it's too much. It's just so sad. Everyone knows you loved that camera; you brought it everywhere. It would be like...if I came home and there was poop on all my shoes...or if all my jeans suddenly had rips where I didn't want there to be rips.

The original intention of this blog was to keep track of a transitional year. With the unexpected demise of my camera, a shift that's hard to get used to, it looks like the blog about a transitional year will have to change.

I took this picture on Saturday. It was the last time I used my camera.

It was a beautiful day, 60 degrees and sunny, so I took a long walk through the Boston Public Garden. I've never seen so many people here, a few of them were taking pictures of their own.

Highlights:

A couple, who looked a lot alike and wore matching sweaters, were getting professional photos taken in front of a willow tree. The photographer had them pose in an uncomfortable position, sitting 'Indian style' and turning their backs all the way around to look into the camera. Their faces reflected this in forced smiles; it kind of looked like they were in the middle of an argument and someone snuck behind them and took a picture.

Two separate times, I saw a man taking pictures of a woman provocatively posed in a pile of leaves.

But this was my favorite (pictured.) I, along with a lot of other people, took pictures of this wedding party taking pictures. They walked all over the garden, taking pictures under different trees and on bridges. Every time I saw the groom he was holding the bride's flowers; the first day in a long life of holding his wife's belongings.

But what happened at "The Best of the Rest" football championship yesterday?

It was rainy, dark, and the field was filled with mud and puddles; perfect football weather. We played very well, even though everyone was constantly slipping and bobbling the ball. With two interceptions and great overall great defense we won the game.

I was so excited. I ran to the sideline, opened my bag and grabbed my camera.

Me: Ok guys! Line up for a team picture!

Everyone got in their best 'we are the champs' pose. I turned on my camera, looked into the viewfinder and....

It was shattered. Someone playing on the field beside us stomped on my bag, and broke my 4 month old camera.

Everyone quickly dispersed and went to get our Nalgene-esque championship water bottles.

If someone had taken a picture of me they would have gotten a girl standing alone on a football field, rain pouring, staring at the ground in saddened disbelief.

And in case you were wondering this is the second picture I ever took with my camera. I'm sure I have the same look on my face right now.

Score Yesterday: The Theater: Don't remember Evil Monkeys: Bleh

This is my favorite picture of Arnie and me, taken in Chicago at my going away party. It's framed and sits on the shelf in my bedroom. This is what I look at when we talk on the phone.

The math of a 1 year relationship:

1 promotional campaign + 2 people who are not above painting their face blue or wearing giant ear costumes, and walking the streets of Chicago = 2 people meeting eachother.

1 house party full of improvisers + A few cups of cheap keg beer + 2 co-workers chatting till the wee hours of the morning = 1 first kiss.

1 cheesy nickname given + 1 retaliation = 2 horrible nicknames.

1 decision to move to Boston because it's what I needed to do + 1 decision to stay in Chicago because it's what he needed to do = 1 relationship turned long distance (9 months together, 3 months apart.)

1 blog about a break up + 1 inspiration(imitation?) + 1 new camera = 1 blog about moving.

107 phone conversations + 1 honest mistake calling me N, his ex-girlfriend's name + 1 lonely and crabby attitude = 1 unnecessary argument.

52 Sundays - 13 spent apart = 39 awesome days spent doing nothing together.

365 days + 1 great guy + 1 move to Boston = 1 good year.

Happy Anniversary NieNie.

Love,

Shitbox

Some advertising goes right over my head.

Waiting for the bathroom at the bookstore.

First page I opened up in '100 Simple Secrets of Happy People' was 'Cultivate Friendships.'

First page I opened up in '100 Simple Secrets of Great Relationships' was 'A Sense of Humor Helps.'

My new favorite TV show? Top Chef. Callahan watched it with me tonight.

Callahan: Whoa! Who's that chick?

Me: I don't know her name. She's the host of the show.

Callahan: Is she a chef? Looking at her gives me chills.

Me: I don't think so. She's probably a model.

Callahan: Well, she's made my Top 5. So now it's...

1. Gisele Bundchen
2. The chick from Top Chef
3. Jarah Mariano
4. Elle MacPhearson, and...
5. The chick that used to live across the street.

Me: What happened to her?

Callahan: She moved. I was so in love with her. I asked her out like three times. First time she said yes so I gave her my number. No call. Second time she said maybe and the third time she said she had a boyfriend. One night I was drunk and left flowers on her doorstep with a card that said "From Your Secret Admirer." Then she moved and I never saw her again. Would that freak you out?

Me: Um...maybe. But you should have left your name on the card; it's the 'Secret Admirer' part that would freak me out.

Callahan: Whatever, she was a total bitch anyway.

Is it possible to be happy and feel lonely at the same time?

Is it possible to be lonely and feel undramatic about it?

Is it possible to be undramatic and have a blog about yourself?

Ugh.

This week I've started doing promo work at the airport (did I mention that moving is expensive?) that forces me to wake up very early in the morning.

It's strange to be at the airport and not be hurried, or pensive, or generally annoyed. This place that was my personal hotbed of emotion is now a neutral ground and watching people travel has been fascinating.

Highlights so far:

A British midget and his wife arguing about things that cannot go through the security gate.

Three enthusiastic Japanese girls at an arrival gate with a big archaic video camera. They kept the camera rolling for about 45 minutes and then left. No one ever arrived.

Dave Coulier.

Before I moved into my apartment in Boston the landlord, Paulie, had my room painted. It was summer so the painter had the windows up and accidently painted them open.

I haven't done anything about it because it's been a very mild fall, and I've only been reminded lately at night when I am cold, and I'm forgetful in general.

Yesterday I was watching the Dallas game (because the Bears game wasn't aired here) and Paulie came up to give me some more veal cutlets, halibut, and sauted peppers with mushrooms. I took the opprotunity to show him the windows.

Paulie: Ah what tha hell Saeyrah? You been freezin yo ass off in heah? Ah jeez. You gotta tell me these things ya know? I pay Mikey good money to take care a you guys. C'mon. He'll be up heah in ten minutes. Jesus Christ.

In ten minutes Mikey (who talks exactly like Paulie, looks like him only 20 years younger, 75 pounds bigger, and just slightly more huggingly menacing) took a blade and some muscle to the sides of the windows and got them closed. He came back into the living room to let me know.

Mikey: It's done. What's tha scoah?

Me: Dallas is up by seven.

Mikey: Ah good. It's tha only game I got today that I'm up on.

My room is toasty warm now.

BIG flag football day.

Michelle P: C'mon guys! I.N.T!

Me: What does that mean?

Jeremy: I don't know. I only know what it means in World of Warcraft. It's how much manna you have, not to be confused with Strength which is how many health points you have.

Today we played our first AND second postseason game, and won both, so we are going to the championship next week...kind of. It's the final for the bottom half of the league, befittingly named "The Best of the Rest Championship."

I got the invitation to my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary.

The math of a marriage:

7 children +2 adopted grandchildren (me and my brother Jesse) = 9 children.

12 grandchildren - 2 grandchildren that are legally thier own kids = 10 grandchildren.

6 moves (all in or around Chicago) + 1 new condo in Arizona = 6.5 houses.

7 children's marriges + 1 child currently engaged - 3 divorces = 4.5 children married.

18,250 nights sleeping in the same bed - 300 nights apart because of work travel, or Grandpa's snoring which got him sent to the spare bed in my room = 17,950 nights sleeping in the same bed.

2 rounds of golf a week x 9 months a year for 15 years = 1,080 round of golf together.

2 infectious senses of humor + 9 children = 9 comedians - 6 with better jobs - 1 in college = 2 poorly paid comedians (myself and Peggy, a stand up)

48 anniversaries in Chicago + 1 spent hiking through a dormant volcano = 1 hilariously ironic trip.

I called my Grandma a few days ago and left a message letting her know I wanted to find out how Grandpa proposed. She hasn't called me back.

Another visitor from Chicago! This time it's Joe B.

Joe B. and I met at Second City Conservatory three years ago. He was my teacher, the first one that actually made the process of learning comedy fun. Last year I asked him to coach my i.O. improv team, Psychoplasmics, and he agreed. Joe B. has taken on a clear mentorship role over the years. Before I moved to Boston he said "I don't know what you need professionally, but I know I need to be ready."

Wednesday night he sat in with Deep Dish. Later, at Micah's house, we started talking about our favorite Chicago memories.

Joe B: Did you know the city has, like, 50 falcons to regulate the pigeon population? They live downtown on the high rises. I've seen them in action twice. Once I saw one swoop down and grab a pigeon off the street. But the other time, I looked up and...BOOM! An explosion of feathers. The falcon got a pigeon in mid-air.

Ooo...look at what Jeremy and I found on the street. 7 hardcover Hardy Boys books and 1 Nancy Drew mystery.

Jeremy: Do you want the Nancy Drew?

Me: Uh, sure.

Jeremy: Ok. I'll give it to you when I finish reading it.

I've always used pictures, cards, or letters as bookmarks, leaving them in the books when I'm done. I also used to write short tangetal thoughts in my books, sometimes having nothing to do with the reading material. When I moved I gave away all my books. I quickly flipped through them and found a 14 year old receipt, a picture of my cousin as a newborn, and some scribbled ponderings about my brother.

I like finding the same things in used books and wondering what these people, who have the same taste in books, and also conciously plant memories, are like.

I opened 'The Hardy Boys: What Happened at Midnight' and it smelled like a musty old cellar. On the inside cover was written:

Feb. 19, 66

To Linda,
Happy Birthday
Love
The Garretts

Will has asked me to start performing regularly in a show called Deep Dish at ImprovBoston every Wednesday. I'm very excited to have a chance to do long form improv regularly, and tonight was great, even though there were only 4 paying customers and the 'Over 50' improv group that opened for us, in the audience.

Me: How's the science experiment going?

Will: I'm feeling a lot better.

Me: Yeah, you don't look crazy today.

Will: I've definitely evened out, but you know what? I play softball every week and my batting average has increased by .400 points. I play basketball too, and usually I average 6 points per game, now I'm up to 12 per.

After the show we went to Micah's to hang out. Will immediately hit the couch and fell into a deep sleep.