Total Blackout

Ohhhh my goodness, there's a new show on Syfy that is THE funniest ish I have watched EVER...I mean EVER.

The rub: contestants have to fill their way through the dark...touching, tasting...and watching them is HUH-larious. There was this Filipino cat that had Jersey and I cracking so hard our stomachs felt like they were bleeding with ulcers.

The pain of funny...OH THE PAIN!

Comes on Wednesday nights at 10/9c.

This one needs to be recorded/watched folks. Then you must come back to this blog and tell me how hard you laughed. This is a simple assignment. You will thank me.

A little smidgen of what you'll see:


The Park

I was way too sore to run yesterday so I grabbed my iPhone instead and decided to stroll, listen to some Black Keys, and shoot.

I chose wisely.

I love forcing myself to really look at what's around me... Use my imagination... Stop and smell the flowers that look like they're slinging peace signs my way. Brings me a peace I crave.


This blogger I follow occasionally posted the best quote about style the other day:

Style begins with the people passing through one's life, the harbingers we push against and the stylemakers we want to clone. Some are famous, some not. Style grows from admiration, from longing, from discrimination--and, yes, from love. It's all the places you've been to and the people and the moments you've known: the parts you've adopted, to keep forever, and transformed. We wear our history in our hearts and on our backs. ~Carol Edgarian

It's kind of lovely, yes?

Makes me want to keep pubbing my own personal style (especially the chucks!) because that's how one rocks their soul for the world.

Pretty sweet if you think about it.

Flowers Get Stinky?

Did you know flowers get stinky?

I was doing laundry, bent down and smelled the worst odor that I promptly blamed on the washing machine, but noooooooo. Fowl putrid, stank smell.... It took awhile, but I finally realized that bad boy was coming from the guest room. Those lovely flowers I bought for the goyles while they were here. Good thing they left Monday!

Those stinky puppies had a short shelf life! Still looked beautiful, but had the stank breath of FOUR halitosis dragons.

Woweeee were they kickin!

Anyone know a flower that doesn't transform into a smelly hot mess?


I swear I'm allergic to receiving that good ole fashioned thing we like to call romance. I don't know what it is. Don't know what it looks like...don't even know if I'd know it if it smacked me in the face with a dozen of the kind of flowers that make my heart swell.

I don't know if my allergy was applauded and then adhered to because I'm clearly a boybian (dress like a tomboy...can do some pretty tomboy ish...I just don't know) BUT it's really hard on my ego.

I noticed the other day that I have started thinking dishwashing is actually romantic...Jersey can do the one chore that IS his to do in the house (we live in a big fricking place too) and I he's just recited the best frickin pickup line in the world. Jerry McGuire completions...the whole nine yards.

Deep down I know that's a load of bologna, though. Dishes aren't romantic no matter how you slice that bread that was stuck to the plate.

I was reading Maria Shriver's tweets today and she asked her twitter universe what was the last romantic thing someone did and I couldn't think of a single.damn.thing.

Playing devil's advocate I could say that it's hard to be romantic all the time, but that's poop dumb talk too because I don't even think I'd need it ALL the time...that's the magic of romantic ish--it can be stretched out and pulled. You can store those sentiments in pieces and pull them out and hold them close when you need them. I needed one of those today, but couldn't dig one up. The last time I went on an actual date was almost close to two years ago.

I do romantic things for my friends and Jersey all the time. (Yes you can do romantic, sweet things for your home girls, damn it) I know it's possible. I also know that it's usually the little things that count the most. I'm not expecting romantic trips to other countries where I'm fed grapes on a kiwi carpet here. Just a little something...we all lose parts of ourselves from time to time. We get so caught up in day-to-day minutia that we forget we matter...that we are someone and something substantial.

Having a total PMS epiphany here. I swear I wanted to pull an evil Snow Queen and destroy all rom coms of the world last night.  I was so upset over this little fact: I do not possess an anniversary. Jersey just conveniently thought there were no mile stones worth celebrating so we just don't. And then he forgets to send the letters he promised to send weekly (Christmas present) so I really can feel like chopped liver.

Anyone know of self dates I can take myself on? Because mama needs to be wooed...whether that wooing comes from me or someone else!

Tired But Happy

I'm so tired. I so badly needed that girl weekend. When it finally came I went buck buck. I was loud, goofy and up for anything including staying up until 2am every darn night because I was just so geeked for everything happening around me.

We drank mimosas the last night of Coachella and laughed into the night. It was so needed. I don't do well with Corporate America. Having a job that's basically the same day in and day out drains me quicker than an attention whore on Facebook. I took beautiful naps in the sun and shade. I sun bathed. I moon bathed. I listened to beautiful music that forced me to lay down and look up at the stars. I danced hard to great music; swinging my arms and tossing my head and hair...I lived totally in the present.

That's not something I get to do all that often. I swear that whole trip was one huge meditative journey. There were times when I'd see the whole huge Coachella crowd swaying together and I'd get what people mean when they say we're all connected. It was like Avatar up in that piece! Remember that scene where they're all praying to the tree goddess? They're holding hands and swaying side-to-side? That's pretty much Coachella....sans the magical floating seed things. (The only stuff floating in that air was confetti from Girl Talk finale and smoke.)

I think I fall more in love with my friends every time we all meet up like that. I've been swimming in some seriously negative girl shat lately...(You know we can be catty, distrusting wankers afterall) so it felt good to get back to that sweet, supportive energy that allows you to be exactly who you are...weird-isms and all.

My favorite part of the day...

Coachella 2012

To say I had a magically awesome Coachella vacation would be a grave under statement of the century. I'm writing this with zombie eyes. So very tired but it was so worth it. 

Coachella is liking nothing else. Us three girls have such a good time hanging out together. We listen to good music, we stay hydrated, we dance, we shoot crazy video of each other...we basically turn into fun kids who have the world at our fingertips. 

That's my kind of vacation and I will miss those damn girls BIG TIME. 

My favorite part of the day: When the sun sets

Love Coachella's art sculptures

Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds was better than I expected. Now need his CD (half of the band, Oasis)

Someone saw my KU license plate and left me a message. Loved.

The glow people would come out at night: Girl Talk was so much fun. We danced HAWD

Tupac showed up!!! It was emotional; I'm not gonna lie.

Gary Clark Jr. is the modern day Jimi Hendrix

Flower Power: The girls at Coachella are always beautiful hippy goddesses

English sun goddess didn't burn at all! Thank God for sunscreen and hats!

Girl Talk was amazing surprisingly. For a DJ he had me on my feet more than any other act.

We made sure to take advantage of the pool before we'd head out

Thank you Coachella 2012 for the memories. See ya next year!

Coachella 2012 │ Weekend 2

So Coachella, Weekend 2 is finally upon me. THANK GOD!!! I have been waiting and wanting this girls' trip for sooo long. I think the drool started back in January when we bought our tickets and reserved the hotel room and I've been a puddle mess every since.

When I start to do the same things day in and day out; the tediousness of it all starts to get to me and I wig the eff out. I'm wigging out this week. I'm doing that whole emotional eating bull crap that leaves me a gassy, bloated hot mess. I have all this time to obsess over all the acting stuff I'm not involved in. I have the time to begrudge those who are hearing yes all the time while I'm always hearing no. It's just left me feeling exhausted, frustrated, sad....See where I'm going with this? I need a break!

So I'm taking one. I'm going to Coachella with J and Twinkie and we shall have a blast bonding over loud music. We leave Friday early morning in our Coachella mobile (AKA The Flying Red Tomato.) I'm packing music, stuff to keep Twinkie from getting car sick in the C.M., liquor for the hotel room.

Who says you get to stop celebrating spring break just because you've graduated from college. I plan to go buck buck crazy. (For me that means I'll take naps, pelvic thrust, drink smoothies to my heart's content and scream really loud at cool people on stages...possibly make fun of some of the more creatively dressed hipsters.)

Hollywood Hug

I need some extreme arrogance...I could use some hubris.

I need to believe at least six impossible things before lunch today and I'm not sure I can. If I say I will is that one of my six?

I'm trying to reassess. Trying to figure out how some people can come to Hollywood and just do it. You know the types...It's those folks who had never heard no. People just told them this is how you do it so they went out and did it....the arrogance pushed them right up onto the doorstep of opportunity and landed them right into Hollywood's golden arms.

...I want a hug from Hollywood.

I sent in an audition video for a small part on this web series I like called Awkward Black Girl. I didn't win (or else you would have heard my crazy jubilee by now) but it was fun making the darn thing:

(True Story BTW)

It's so tiresome holding the world's record for most tries without a win. I'm just sayin...

Burning Woman


WITHIN: Absolut Mandarin Vodka, hand crushed serrano chilis, fresh lemon, orange juice, and a splash of cranberry.

My mouth was on FIYA!!! (but sooo tasty)


When I say I'm a blog groupie...Oooweeee am I bad. Meeting Joy and Bri (two bloggers whose work I LUV) was fun, but it was nerves and then some. Blogging is still a relatively new medium so the fact that I've already managed to go gaga over a couple of ladies who have a knack for graphic design and Photoshop embarrasses the crap out of me.

When I went out to that event last week and started talking to the ladies about their lives and their schedules it was like a train wreck of diarrhea that couldn't be stopped. I'm sitting there rambling while my little angel on my right shoulder is going "Mayday! Shut up foo!" and my little devil is on its back cracking up and telling me to keep going.

Do you guys do that? Am I alone? What is it about people poppin' out life stories that draws us in and makes us drool a bit? If you don't do that you're probably answering me with a profound, "I don't know foo!" but if you do groupie-fy certain folks then help a gal out.

Have you ever caught yourself in a groupie situation and felt silly? I mean if I were to meet Oprah there would be no shame in my game, but bloggers...? I've actually dreamed I was good friends with Dooce before...okay multiple times I've had that dream. I have issues lol.

The Anti-Cool Blog

I've noticed a trend with all the blogs I read. It's consumerism on crack. Every post is about buying something, wanting something, needing something...Well Mama Tish doesn't have the money to keep up with that kind of stuff so I've been trying really hard about honoring all the stuff I already have. Making sure it's clean and lovely and well taken care of.

Project "You Don't Need ISH" is underway.

I plan to go into hard core Scroogey-frugal saving mode. All funds are about to be locked down (that's after Coachella this weekend...batting eyes.)

There's just something about always having to have more. How long does someone play with their newly purchased toys before they move on to the next thing they just can't live without?

I don't know homies, but I'm going to be a good girl and appreciate and take joy in the act of remaining still and looking at all the darn ish I currently have around me. No more, "I want! I want!"

It's time for some, "Hey I forgot I had this book! Hey there's no reason I need a new outfit, this one still makes me feel like a million bucks."

Simple concept. HUUUUGE impact.

Now...time to get some of my Oprah on.

Grateful for Poppins the iPhone who takes phenomenal pictures. I don't NEED that Mark II camera just yet.

The Actors Studio and Struggle

I seriously don't know which milestone would mean more...

Winning my first Oscar or going on The Actors Studio and telling that glorious host, James Lipton, what my favorite and least favorite word is.

I keep reading all of these articles about how we're not our roles as mommies and daddies, we're not our exes, we're not our all of those things are just stories we use as crutches. My character has nothing to do with my acting struggles...Just because I'm struggling doesn't mean you'll find my picture below the word failure in a dictionary.

Sometimes I get that and sometimes I don't. Sometimes aren't we our stories? When people ask my mom, "Hey how is Tish?" and she replies, "Oh she's still out there in crazy Hollywood trying to get auditions," do you think they're thinking of my character or the fact that I'm a 31 year old playing dreamer doo wop?

I don't know, but either way it doesn't bother me. When push comes to shove and you ask me what I am I'll straight up tell you I'm a struggling actor. I struggle with acting every day. Why do I say that even though countless successful people have warned me not to? Because I have yet to get a firm grasp on a role, a part, a job. Isn't that the definition of a struggler?

It might make me persistent and strong and stubborn and all of those good things you need to have to survive out here, but I'm still in wishing mode.

All of this came from one night of Actors Studio. God help with the likes of me has to be "interesting".

April Showers

Last week was grey, murky and perfect. I love April showers. 
But this week is Coachella week so it can be sunny and perfectly even steven weather-wise. 
Note to Mama Earth

My Weekend in Photos


When I was a young girl my momma bought me this sweet little rocking chair that I kept for years. Dark wood, a cherry blossom seat cushion daintily tied to the seat of the chair...It was my sweet little chair that I read Charlotte's Web, Remember Me, Baby-sitter's Club, Little Women, and many other childhood favorites in.

When I went off to college the chair stayed and then when my youngest sister went to college, she took the chair. Fast forward a couple of years...She graduated, married, moved to South Korea to teach with her husband, moved back and now the two of them are trying to make a life of the things they've collected over the years. She texted me and asked if she could let go of my darling little rocker.

I'm okay with letting it go, but I wanted to pay homage to my little friend. I'm a sentimental sap. I'm anti-hoarder and then some...constantly chucking things and clearing space, but that doesn't stop me from collecting little things here and there...a porcelain doll my great grandmother left me..a green blanket my mother received when she was a little girl...a hope chest.

Just wanted to pay respect to the little reading chair that I know will make some little girl very happy. I just know it.

Oh Joy + Kate Spade | Gals Night Out

Oh happy day!

What a lovely evening I had last night. Oh Joy (who I'm just a tad bit in obsession with) was hosting a little par-tay at Kate Spade's quaint little shop at the Americana so I asked my gal pal Glenda the Good Witch and B if they'd like to hit the spot up with me. I couldn't just go there and gush by myself, now could I? THAT would have been stalkerish (nervous laugh)

Joy's really super duper sweet and didn't look too scared that a grown woman wanted to be her groupie for graphics. Not at all...

Yes, I did give myself that name. 

I wasn't expecting to find anything Tishy Tastic there (Kate's stuff is a bit too girly for the likes of me) but there was an adorable business card case that I just couldn't resist. I've been looking for one for the longest. Now I shall never leave home without the darn things. J will be so proud of me being that I never have Fit Bottomed Girl cards on hand at events. Big no no...

I sipped on cute cocktails, shoved a couple of sweets down and laughed my darkly dressed buns off at the folks working there. They have some groovy characters especially this one cat who was rockin' a bow tie. You all know how I feel about bow ties...

The party got an A.

Hello rainbow-licious delight

Too bad they don't make anything larger than size 10...

The folks working there were awesome and nice. They didn't throw us out when we laughed at the price of a shirt.

Joy the Jubilant yellow dandy and Me...I smile like a rat when I'm excited. I also exhibit zombie hand syndrome, apparently.

This gal was a ball of energy!!!

Itsy Bitsy

So I was sitting in the bathroom...handling my #2 business...humming to myself....just as happy as happy could be.

I plopped, smiled and THAT'S when it happened. I moved my foot so that I could wipe and in slow motion the foot came up and out crawled a spider.

Y'all, when I say I have never screamed like that. It was a blood curdling, deep manly yet still girly scream that caused Jersey to book it to the bathroom. I could hear his heavy feet flopping so I got up quick, did a really fast wipe-a-roo (all while still screaming) and pointed towards the spider.

You have to hold the handle of the toilet down for an insane amount of time in order to properly flush so I'm holding the handle, Jersey's trying to get around me and I'm hoping he can't smell the gift I just left for the porcelain god. He did though. He didn't comment until the spider was down...which was nice of him.

It was a traumatic, stressful and stinky situation.

The point of this story: I shall never be able to poop in there comfortably EVER AGAIN.


Yesterday evening Jersey walked in, found me in the living room and promptly pulled me out the door to go shoot hoops with him. The guy just can't sit still I tell ya. 

We went to a nearby spot we like to frequent where I went about my business missing layup after layup. It always takes me a while to warm up. Much like bowling. Yeah, I just compared bowling to basketball. Nerds can do that.

I love shooting around with him. It's a damn good workout, but it's also hella fun. I can't say I play fair. There's always one or two fouls, gooses and butt squeezes in the mix. He's a cutie. It can't be helped.

When You Feel the Blahs

I don't know why Mondays suck elephant-sized balls for me, but they do. There's just something so very dismal and whackalicious about waking up on a Monday, knowing that you're going to do the same the same the same thing. Well it resulted in me having a mini hissy fit at the gym last night. I sulked over to Jersey and told him I was just bored and tired of the same thing day in and day out.

He rolled his eyes because I'm dramatic like that and told me to get my butt up on the pull-up bar. (Lovely, eh?) I barely made it through that workout...It was like The Grinch before his heart got big...You know that moment where he had all the energy and could lift the sleigh...Yeah, I was the opposite of that.

I figured out how to battle the blahs though. I went to Trader Joe's and decided to spice things up in the kitchen. I pizazzed the spaghetti up. I added artichokes, some colorful red/yellow/orange peppers, turkey meatballs and some herbs and spices to give it some kick. Then I made some avocado boats, tomato, cilantro, red wine vinegar, red onions, sour cream and some spicy TJ's salsa. It was sooo good and totally blasted the blahs. I cranked up the down with some great jazz and blues and just like that my mood changed.

Thank GOD! I have issues with the Monday blahs.

I'm not the gal who's down for food presentation. Just saying

Haitian Cooking | A Different Flavor

This weekend Jersey went to snowboarding up in Mammoth so I went to Dara's to help with Easter dinner. I love watching her husband and her cook. Her hubby is this amazing cook. He smiles, sings and stares into the hearts of each dang ingredient and out springs magical foods that make your eyes roll back. It's like Ratatouille see colorful swirls. 

Even the act of cutting is an art in that household. According to the hubster, you have to cut an onion a certain way. First in halves...but a certain way. This releases the onion's flavors--makes  you cry quicker. According to Haitian thought, someone cooking for you is love because so much emotion goes into it. Lovely, right?

We had to de-vein celery (which I didn't even know people did!), peel carrots, not all of them, just some; and these darn carrots were chosen individually. Things were boiled and mashed, seasoned....Caribbean music blared throughout the home as we all went to work...

And the food that came out of all that prep...OH.MY.GOD.

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