#g.l.o.c.

Matty Blake and Kieran Kaye invited me to talk into a microphone about women in comedy and the acting biz on their great podcast The Actor's Grind.

Here we are in the pleasant suburbs of Western Massachusetts. The seasons are changing—the lawns are greening, crocuses blooming. And there, in that white house on the main street of a little town in the middle of it all, young Sara Roan is preparing for one of her parents’ dinner parties. Her brothers prefer to keep their distance from the festivities—video games in the rec room—but this is Sara’s time to shine. A dinner party creates a great opportunity for her to mingle among her true peers (the 35-50-year-old set) and get in the classy and classic zone of the Middle Class.

Sara may only be ten, but she already understands the great responsibility of dinner party giving. As she dusts the Victorian-era furniture in the living room, Sara wonders if she could get away with wearing some khakis and a silk blouse tonight, or if she should just wear a dress. The khakis can read a little butch sometimes and you just can’t have that when you’re the hostess with the mostest. As the daughter of a minister, she knows how important appearances are.

Intricate religious politics dictate that a minister’s daughter must not be caught picking her nose. And if she is, she must deny, deny, deny. Also, there is a fine line between being a funny child and causing people to believe you weren’t raised properly. From her forays into witty banter back in kindergarten, she learned how to read an audience. Telling morning circle that on Thanksgiving you “slaughter a turkey,” was in poor taste and might make some parents wonder what that preacher was letting his kids watch on television. However, an aside to the teachers on St. Patrick’s Day about the green triangles on your underwear kills. Finally, it’s always a good idea to be outraged when a boy pulls his pants down.

In the four long years since she began testing the waters, Sara has honed her dinner party instincts. If a guest wants to hear something she’s learned on the piano, she’ll defer to her older brother. Sara knows what her strengths are and it’s clear he knows “In the Jungle” well enough to deviate from the sheet music, the bastard. Plus, modesty is key in her party persona: she’ll just strategically place a perfect spelling quiz on the fridge.

Finally, at a dinner party, there is a time to be seen and not heard, to nod knowingly at the “Kids These Days” comments, and a time to take some damn initiative and pass that baked brie around the room. Shrimp cocktail and mixed nuts can distribute themselves, but everyone appreciates a hand with the oozing glory that is a baked brie. Maybe tonight her mom will top it with brown sugar or a tart chutney. Who knows! All Sara can do until the moment of truth is dust and dream. And make a mental note to make sure there are extra little bowls out for the olive pits.

Female seeking Male-December 15, 2006

Dear kind, well-adjusted men of the Internet, I am new to Brooklyn and seeking a guide…companion…partner. Could this be you?

I suppose I should share a bit about myself—I recently left school to move here and figure it all out. I think I’m pretty close to accomplishing that, probably in the next year or so.

I live in Bed Stuy with my older brother and four of his friends. Because of budget and space issues, I live in the hall closet. It was designed to be a washer/dryer room, but now it’s my little nest. Sure it isn’t big enough to fit a twin mattress, but my dad’s camping mat provides plenty of support and I only sometimes kick open the magnetized doors while I’m sleeping. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of room for two. You’ll learn quickly how underrated sleeping in the fetal position is. Then we can say we come out of the closet every day! Together.

My little room is starting to feel homier since I hung-up a scarf that has pictures of different kinds of mammal scat on it. It’s yellow, which adds a pop of color against the beige walls and really pulls the room together. Plus, it’s educational…beaver poo is so woody! Also, the closet doesn’t have any windows so it always feels like 2am inside, which, I think you’ll agree, is the best time of day.

Side note: I recently took up smoking cigarettes to curb my growing marijuana habit—if you don’t smoke, you should stop reading now. I’m not sure we’ll have enough in common.

For fun I like to unwind from my part-time job by eating deli sandwiches and drinking malt liquor while watching Girlfriends or The Bernie Mac Show. Colt 45 preferred. Warning: try not to let me drink a St. Ides forty in under an hour—that shit is just TOO high gravity.

If the boys are home, I usually have to give up the television to football watching or Halo playing. But who doesn’t want to just be around that all weekend? Funny story—one of my roommates doesn’t have a job so he sits up all night practicing Halo. Thanks to him, I get to say that I’ve woken up in Bed Stuy at 3am to gunfire. Badass, right?

But I digress; the purpose of this is for me to meet you—The One. I’m sure we’ll find love after we spend a night dancing at Union Pool. The guy at the door totally knows me now and I don’t even have to show an ID to get in. It doesn’t matter though, because I’m turning 21 soon (finally legal!) and then we can basically go wherever.

It’s best if you’re at least 10 years older than me. PICS PLZ!