What We're Doing Tonight

I am an excellent invite person.

HAPPY FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH!

Love, Courtney

Alarm Clock, Beep-Boop-Bap-Boop-Beep

If you thought that yesterday's video was excellent, wait until you see today's video.  Did you think that you had to live with a boring alarm clock forever?  Well, not anymore.

New Alarm Clocks: Saturday Night Live



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Okay, so you can't really buy those alarm clocks.  But you CAN buy these awesome alarm clocks that Amy and I want because we're nerdy and need special alarm clocks to make us feel cool.  Even though "alarm clocks that make you feel cool" is probably some form of oxymoron.


Here's my pick:

Moshi, the alarm clock that will talk to you and be your best friend.  Okay, so I added that last part.  But all you have to do is talk to Moshi and it will do what you say!  Example:
"Good morning, Moshi." 
"Good morning." 
"What is the temperature, Moshi?" 
"Twenty-one degrees and miserable, because you're dumb enough to live in the Northeast."
"Please make my coffee, Moshi."
"..."
"Moshi?"
"..."
"MOSHI?!??"

Why I pick Moshi: Because I'm too lazy to look at the time/temperature/alarm set myself.  Because it currently takes me ten minutes to set my alarm, due to the fact that my IHome click wheels are broken.  Because I have a need to talk a lot, and Moshi will always listen.  Because I wasn't socialized enough and need as many friends as possible.

Or E, all of the above.


Here's Amy's pick:

Clocky, the alarm clock that runs away from you.  When your alarm goes off, Clocky rolls off of your nightstand and "looks" for places to hide by detecting the amount of light in any given area.  So, if you really want to snooze or shut off your alarm, you have to find Clocky first.

Why Amy picks Clocky: Amy sets "at least six alarms a day," she says, because she shuts each one off in her sleepy stupor (my words, not hers, sorry buddy).  Therefore, she needs a little booger of an alarm clock that she has to chase around the room in the morning.  Fewer alarms + early morning cardio = Amy's perfect man... er... clock.  Yeah, clock.


But neither of us knew that...

CLOCKY HAS A BROTHER!

Meet Tocky, the next version of Clocky.  I'm not really sure what's different about this one except for that you can add mp3's to it, but once again, the little stinker Tocky will roll away and hide from you when your alarm goes off.

Now Amy wants Tocky instead of Clocky because "Tocky is prettier," she says.  Tocky is also $75. 

It's not that pretty.

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We are now searching for more superfun and totally unnecessary alarm clocks.  Needless to say, there will be more to come in the near future.

Love and alarm clock mania,
Courtney

Do You Enjoy a Fancy Fly Lifestyle?

Amy and I have fallen in love with this video from SNL, and we feel that you all should be exposed to it too.  Plus, Taylor Lautner is in it.  But his hair looks really bad, and he doesn't take off his shirt.


New Doorbells: Saturday Night Live





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If you would like to see Amy's and my imitations of Tina Tina Shanuz, you may petition us here, on this blog.  And we will film them Friday night.  No, she does not know about this agreement

Psst... Tina Tina returns to SNL with Alarm Clocks and More... will post tomorrow.

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In other matters, I'm watching Teen Mom, and this is how Gary proposed to Amber for like the fifty-ninth time:
Gary: "Okay, so we're getting married."
Amber:  "You have to ask me if I will marry you."
Gary: "You'll marry me."
Amber: "No, you have to ask me."
Gary: "Okay, you wanna get married?"
Amber: "THAT'S NOT HOW YOU ASK!  You have to say 'will you'."
Gary: "Okay I'll say it exactly how you want, fieeeene."
Amber: "Gareeeeeyyyyyy!"
Gary: *resigned" "Will you marry me?"
Amber: *forlorn* "Sure...."

I love Teen Mom.

Love and reality television,
Courtney

More from the Memory Box

If you read yesterday's post about my SHS Drama Club memories that I pulled out of my junk cabinet, you'll know that I'm making a futile attempt to clean out my room.  If you didn't, read it now.

The following are photos and paper clippings that I also found in the cabinet.  I think that you will find them amusing.

Ready?  Let's go!

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That's me, seven years old, right after my first leading role onstage.  I was Gretel in Hansel and Gretel.  To the left is my adorable brother Jonathan, and to the right is my good high-school friend-and-costar Kevin, who played Hansel and who subsequently played many leading roles in our shows throughout high school.  He's a cool Somers native- turned- New Yorker like me now, but he's downtown at NYU, so he's hipper than I am.

But I'm in the Bronx, so I can beat everyone up.  Just kidding.  Please don't hit me.

And, for your information, this was actually my second play in my life.  In the second grade I was in Miss Peterson's class play Shirley Holmes and the FBI, in which I played the role of Mallory.  I had exactly six lines and I picked the part because Mallory was the name of a character in The Babysitter's Club, which I loved.

We've established that I'm a nerd, right?

This is a newspaper clipping from my senior year of high school, and yes, that lovely couple is Hansel and Gretel, all grown up.  The incredibly flattering outfits are courtesy of the Somers High School Jazz Choir.  I miss the Jazz Choir.  I don't miss the dress.

Why didn't someone warn me that in four years I would be regretting my unfortunate bangs and pasty white skin?  And yes, I know that I'm short.  And yes, I know that I still have pasty white skin.  But I got rid of the bangs, thank god.

Here's an article from the seventh grade about our Destination Imagination team.  See those medals??  Eh?  Eh?  We won our division in Connecticut and went onto the international competition in Tennessee.  Man, I've never seen so much orange in my life than at the U of Tennessee.

(I'm in the back row, all the way on the right.  Can anyone say, "awkward years?"  I look like a frog.)

I don't remember what paper this was in, but it's about the community theatre show I did at the beginning of my junior year of high school with three other high school friends.  I'm in the bottom left picture, wearing the unfortunate red shirt, with my partner in crime Maureen (her real name is Amanda).

Story time: One time, in high school, we were at a singing competition and convinced this guy that Courtney and Amanda were our middle names and Joanne and Maureen were our first names, but we went by our middle names because we were named after our mothers.  He believed us.

The real reason behind our nicknames?  We're Rentheads and named eachother after the lesbian lovers.  That's what theatre people do.

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The following pictures I have chosen of myself for a specific reason.  I shall tell you why at the end.

Throwing a softball at the Senior Dunk Tank at the Four Town Fair.  I missed.

In Kevin's basement, likely waiting to play Sims 2 on his computer, because that's how I do.

On the Senior float in the Four Town Fair parade.  I'm in the white, on the top.  To my right are my high school friends Alison and Connell (that's his last name), and to my left is my high school boyfriend Nick.  He takes professional wrestling classes and Joe and my college friends like him better than me.  I've accepted this fact.

Our float theme?  "Seniors of the '07 Seas."  HOW EFFING CLEVER IS THAT?!?

At Bigalow Hollow, where we used to picnic and swim and try to make campfires.  I was trying to do the sprinkler dance move.  I failed.

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Now, why were these specific pictures chosen from the many high school ones that I could have chosen?

Because they establish that I have always been completely and certifiably insane.  I'm so ridiculous.  And very little of that has changed.

That concludes our trip down Courtney's memory lane.  Please visit the gift shop on your way out.

Love to all of the people from my past,
Courtney

A Dream from Joe Spedale

Joe texted me this morning to tell me he had a strange dream.  This is his text message summary of said dream:

"Ok, me, you, these two random girls and this guy were all staying at this house in the woods, an we had to play baseball in this field, but you would never let me get up to bat!  Then all of a sudden i was the only one in the house and i looked outsside and there were these 3 babies just walking around so i brought them inside and when i got inside you were back and i was like 'what should i do?' and would were like 'shut up, youre such an idiot' then i woke up."

It's good to know that my boyfriend's unconscious mind thinks I'm a total bitch.

Somers High School Drama Club, Revisited

Because I have two weeks and one day until I go back to college for my final (eek) year, I started to clean out junk from my room.  I have since come to the conclusion that I will most definitely not finish cleaning it out before I leave, but that will just be a fun project for when I move out in a year.  Yippee.

I found a lot of memerobilia in my cabinet that I shove lots of useless stuff in, and among the various birthday cards and middle-school awards were these:

Backstage Union cards, from the Somers High School Drama Club!  Every show, audience members (and club members) could pay one dollar to send a card to their Drama Club member of choice, and although you can't see it here, I built up quite a stack over the four years and eight shows.

Some were from "Drama Mamas and Papas," like the card above.

Some were from family... even family that traveled from far away!

This one was from my "little brother" through Big Brothers/Big Sisters.  He came to all of my shows, and now he's doing shows of his own with the SHS DC (I'm old, boo).

Some were from old friends, former DC'ers that came back to see the shows!

This one was from Eric, our nine-year-old family friend who probably hated coming to see Once Upon a Mattress.  He's fourteen now.  And he's taller than me.

This one was from Brianna, also a nine-year-old family friend who was the easiest babysittee in the world and who I love to death.  She's going to be in the high school this year.  Why is this happening to me?

The card reads: "I hope you do a good job and have fun!  Dont forget I'm waching you!"

She's such a cutie.  She almost died when I told her that I met Justin Bieber once.

This one was from Bri's sister, Jessica, who was five, I think, at the time.  She laves me :).

Of course, there were many, many cards from my biggest supporters, my mom and dad and Jonathan, who has been dragged along to too many shows to count.  The only reason he comes now is to videotape the shows at Fordham and make money off of my friends.  He'll be a good businessman.

Speaking of Jonathan...

There were also a couple of these in the stack of cards... graduation notes that parents and friends could write.  In case you can't read it, it says: "I am now known as 'Courtney's brother' by all the teachers.  It will be so nice when you are gone!  Just kidding.  Have a good time!!!"

Thanks, bro, for all the love.  And, by the way, I asked him the other day how he felt about having my old English teacher next year.  He said, "Everyone's so excited that I'm your brother and then I disappoint them."  He had a grin on his face.

Some things never change.

Love and feeling too old (already),

Courtney

Stormtastic

Pictorial footage of the video I shared the other day...

The sky darkened quickly, and pretty soon there was only a little sliver of light yet.

And as the cloud moved in, so did the rain.

And with rain, there came wind.  You know what doesn't go well with wind?  Beach supplies.  Because, oh yeah, THE WIND BLOWS THEM!

Then a beach umbrella came tumbling down the beach, and I don't have any pictures of this because we were trying to be Good Samaritans and yell to the man who was in the umbrella's way.  It didn't work.  I don't have any pictures of that, either, because I am sympathetic to human pain and I was watching my brother and dad run down to help the guy.

But then like twenty people rushed out of their houses just like us, and we were the furthest away, so they came back.  We later realized that everyone was just running out to get their beach floaties, which were flying away.  We think he was okay, though.

Well, there was an ambulance that went down the street a couple of minutes later.  But we tried.  Oops.

After that, everyone left the beach.  It was pretty dumb that they hadn't before.

This poor Easy-Up was a victim of the storm, though.  It looks like a crab.  Crabbity-crabbity-crab.

Mom and Grandpa were pretty tired after that exciting storm, though, so they took a nap.  It was pretty cute.

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All in all, I miss our vacation.

I miss our beautiful beachfront house.

I miss our kitchen, where we made pancakes and eggs and bacon and homefries for breakfast every morning.  And I miss our table, where we played lots of board games and I got schooled by an eleven-year-old.

I miss my room, where I read lots of books and watched Say Yes to the Dress.  And BLOGGED, of course.

I MISS OUR PORCH SO MUCH!  Our big porch, where we could sit and look at my father and grandfather be stubborn and get sunburnt on the sand, or where my mother could hope that I wouldn't drown in the surf because obviously I'm five and can't swim.  Not.

Or where, at night, we could look around with my uncle's night vision goggles and watch the rocking chairs creepily rock back and forth in the wind, like there were ghosts!

Damn, I miss that porch.

I don't miss this sliding glass door, though.  It was really heavy.

Yup.  I miss vacation and family and seeing this silly look on Jonathan's face.  Way to be ready for the camera, little bro.  Have I taught you nothing?

Tomorrow, it's back to the daily grind of exercise balls, interns, and TechDP newsletters.  See ya, Fo'Schiessl Fest 2010.  Suggestions for 2011???

Love and No-I'm-never-unpacking-are-you-crazy?,
Courtney