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Of course I had to start this off with a tasteless joke. It’s what I do best.

Sometime last week I decided that I’m going to make the most out of my time. I’m going to get up early work on personal projects, go to the gym, get energized, get to work early, and then have the night for myself. After finding it hard to wake up early, or even on time, I delayed this idea for about a week and a half. Then, after reading the wonderful words of Nevermore Collective, I decided it was time to stop making excuses and start making changes happen. So when my alarm clock rang at 6:45 AM this morning, I knew hitting the snooze wasn’t an option: hopping out of bed and getting my ass in gear was the only course of action.

Ok, so I still hit the snooze button once or twice and maybe laid in bed checking Instagram for a few minutes, but then I was up and at ’em. I reasoned that, as long as I get to the gym by 7:30 AM, I could still get up to a solid hour of gym time (though, realistically I usually cap out at 45 mins) and still have enough time to shower and get to work on time. So I finally get to my car at about 7:26 (the gym is only about a four minute drive away) and I’m ready to go… but my car isn’t. I have one of those nifty push-to-start FOB keys, and my car wasn’t detecting it. Dead battery? Weird Glitch? Who knows, but between debating whether I should forgo the gym altogether and instead walk around the neighborhood, make a stop off at my mom’s to grab my other FOB key and hope that it works, and then browsing through my driver’s manual and searching the internet until I FINALLY found an answer on a message board that informed me that apparently there’s a “charging station” for my key in the center console (thanks for the tip, KIA!) I was able to get my car up and running…10 minutes later. “Ok, so if I get to the gym at around 7:40, work out for 45 minutes, then it will be 8:25. If I take a quick 5 minute shower then it will be 8:30 which will still be enough time to get to work.” I rationalized with myself. I can do this. I’M GOING to do this.

I forgot that school bus traffic hell occurs every day at approximately 7:40 AM. Of course I forgot that, since I’ve been sleeping later every day I always miss it.

I finally got to the gym at 7:55. The parking lot was PACKED. Apparently, people get their gym time in at approximately 7:55 every day. After parking my car and getting out to get all of my stuff together, I glanced at the clock again/ 7:58. “If I get in there by 8:00 I can work out for 15-20 minutes and then…” I slammed the door and hopped back into the front seat. This morning was giving me every sign that gym wasn’t in the cards, so maybe just going to early and getting a head start on my projects would be for the best.

I got to work and got changed out of my gym clothes in the bathroom. I found a bag of earrings in my purse, with one missing a back. I managed to (miraculously) locate the back at the bottom of my bag. Then I dropped said-earring back onto the floor, where it vanished completely. ARG. I washed my hands and thought, “God, please don’t let this be one of those days.”

I got to my desk to find out we were nowhere near ready for our hard deadline that was approaching and I had more work piling up, making it difficult to finish the project I wanted to complete, nor get cracking on a personal project before the work day started. Double arg. I opened up my Facebook messenger to shoot my mom a quick “good morning” message, as per my usual morning routine, and let her know about the crap day I was having so far, when I noticed that she changed her profile picture to one of the American flag. “Oh, geez, what happened now?” I thought to myself, and then it finally hit me. It hadn’t even occurred to me what the date was since I was so in my own head. Then, I realized something else:

It was approximately 8:46 AM on September 11, and I was about to complain about what a terrible day I was having.

While I was busy pitying myself, I forgot about the fact that, for A LOT of people early in the morning of September 11th, it really was the worst— and for many, last— day of their lives.There’s nothing that snaps you back to reality more than realizing how much worse things could be. That day, for all those who lost and suffer thanks to the reminders every year, all of those who are still barely living, but suffer from health complications and PTSD from being there, for all those who have been targeted and hurt every day since because of the color of their skin— this day has a lot of different meanings to a lot of different people. But there’s one string that ties them all together: for everyone, the earth stood still the morning of September 11th. And every year when we have those moments of silence, the earth stands still again. And in that silence, we are one. And our problems— no matter what size— disappear, even for just a few moments.

I’m not going to recount where I was and what I was doing when it happened. I’ve already done that. But I want everyone instead to think about where they are now. What they’re doing. What they’re spending their time and exhausting their both physical and mental on. Think about the amount of time you spend worrying and stressing about things that, in the bigger picture, are insignificant. Budget your emotional time accordingly. Time is fleeting and can be taken from us in the blink of an eye. In a New York minute. Don’t waste it on beating yourself up over things that go wrong. Don’t waste them worrying about other people’s problems. Take a few moments of silence every now and then to focus on the good things out there. Because they are there, even if they’re hard to see.

Sure as time goes on we grow more bitter and cynical toward a lot of things: the meaning of patriotism, the actions of our government and law officials, the different questions that have arisen since, and sometimes we even channel the confusion and anger into humor, throwing around callous 9/11 jokes when we can (I’ll admit it, I’m guilty of it). But when the dust has settled but the fog is still overhead, don’t let it cloud your judgment. On this day, it’s always okay to stop and thank those who worked tirelessly and put their lives in harm’s way to help their fellow man. Not all of us can be that courageous, but there’s still things we can do. Be a little bit kinder to a stranger. Think of those around you. Get outside of your own head and just be one in the silence.

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SNL40

February 16, 2015

Tonight the only TV event I care about aired–the 40th Anniversary Saturday Night Live Special. Overall it was a fun tribute to the series. There were a lot of missteps and things wrong with it, sure, and there are and have been a lot of things behind-the-scenes wrong with SNL throughout it’s history.

But it’s a huge part of MY history.

For as long as I can remember, Saturday Night Live has been a staple of my life, and a constant source of happiness. There are skits that I distinctly remember watching in the early ’90s when they first aired and laughing my ass off at them, and laughing at them the same way when I see them in syndication. There are skits and episodes I only ever saw in syndication because they were way before my time, but I shared laughter with my family because they remember watching them in real time and cracking up at them. It’s a show that brings my family together and one that’s always been a source of comfort for me and for that I’ll be forever grateful. I recall purchasing the Best of Eddie Murphy special on VHS and forcing my family members to watch it at least once a day—thankfully, they didn’t seem to mind too much.

When Comedy Central started airing reruns I’d build my schedule around that and the reruns of Kids in the Hall. I would quote Wayne’s World ad-nauseum to whoever would listen. I was inspired by “Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy” and built joke websites with my friends based solely one series of funny and absurdist one-liners. I might not have been the most popular kid in school by any means—but I made my little group of friends laugh (or at least hoped I made my friends laugh)—and that was all that mattered to me.

At one point in my early teen years I got really into the history of the show and would carry around that huge, hardcover 25th anniversary book with me everywhere, reading passages from it like it was the Bible. I’d get weird looks from other students who thought the sight of anyone reading a book of that size not for school was weird, regardless of the subject matter. I devoured every bit of information about the show and the craft of sketch comedy and aspired to one day find myself in one of those SNL writers rooms—I even took a stand up class and entertained the idea of becoming a stand up comedienne. The show also taught me that women can be and most definitely are funny. From Gilda Radner to Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Jan Hooks, Julia Sweeney or Cheri Oteri, I found a woman I could relate to in some way that gave me hope that I could fill people’s lives with as much joy as they did to mine.

Sure, I’ve gotten cynical towards the show over the past few years. And, admittedly, I haven’t really watched it regularly for the better part of a decade, but the place it holds within my heart will always remain. Re-watching classic episodes non-stop this past week has been a blissful, cathartic affair. So many of those skits transport me back to my youth and not only make me laugh, but fill me with a sense of nostalgia and happiness. Watching again also make me realize that, deep down, being in that writers room is still a dream of mine. Maybe my dream is to get in a time machine and be a writer/cast member from the ’70s-’90s, but I’d settle for the former, too.

It might seem pathetic to babble on for this long about a TV show, but, I mean it, it’s truly more than just that to me. SNL and TV in general in many way has been both a best friend and therapist of sorts throughout my life—maybe that’s fucked up and wrong, but if it made me happy then who’s to say?

Thank you, Lorne Michaels. Thank you, Saturday Night Live, even if being a part of it is an unattainable dream, it’s given me a goal I never want to stop striving for—and that’s making people laugh and smile through my work. Here’s to 40 more years to come!

Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.