I probably have AIDS now

Here is an example of just how broke I've been feeling lately:

I went for a run this morning in my balmy, 77 degree neighborhood and as I passed a gas station, I saw a dollar bill on the ground.  So naturally I picked it up and tucked it into my sports bra.

A ONE.  DOLLAR.  BILL.

What the crap was I thinking?  That my boob sweat would transform it into a ten by the time I got home??  I'm disgusting.  And I had this thought as I continued to run with it plastered against me but what was I going to do then?  Throw it back on the ground?  NO.  I ran that wet little piece of paper all the way home to my wallet.  And then showered before touching my mouth.

Good god I need an extra job.  Or a new job altogether.  On the plus side though: my iced coffee today will probably cost only 89 cents.  Woo!

Why can't I quit you, Web MD?

I am in the middle of the lamest Memorial Weekend ever.  It's the kickoff to summer!  The best season ever!  Barbeques and drinking outdoors and wearing your whites and three days of no work!  Unless you're me: working all three days, pretty broke, and fighting off a weird stomach bug and the hypochondria that comes with it.  So instead of crashing that party I can hear down the block, I'm drinking some pretentious-sounding "Digestif" tea, making a Flavorwire-inspired playlist about being broke, and playing with the Web MD Symptom Checker.

I know, I know - Andrea and Mom, if you're reading this: I'm sorry.  I know I said I would stop plugging all my symptoms into Web MD because all it does is convince me that I have a brain tumor and then I call one of you and hysterically yell "I HAVE A BRAIN TUMOR!"  (Oh, and Mom, if you did magically find this blog, I think I have a lot of other things to apologize for.)

But tonight I'm lonely and Web MD just gets me, you know?  We have a special relationship.  I'm like "Web MD, I think I have food poisoning from the kamikaze dressing I bought from Sunshine Mart!" and Web MD is all "Baby doll, hush, according to your symptoms you have 20 different diseases to choose from!  And they all have dramatic consequences!"  And then I think "You know what?  If I do have Type 1 diabetes, I can deal!  I can still live my life!  Halle Berry does it!"

But now I'm coming back down from the medical high and trying to be sensible.  I probably don't have diabetes (or cystic fibrosis... or IBS...) and it's probably just something weird that I ate that's causing these *ahem* "digestive issues"... probably that dressing (which would be sad because it was so tasty).  I'm going to keep pumping myself with fluids (one Vitamin Water and two coconut waters so far) and just hope I'm better tomorrow.

OK, back to my lover Web MD though: can we just talk about how crazy awesome some of these symptom options are??  Here are my faves:

• "Taste words when they are heard"
• "Multiple bruises of different ages"
• "Craving alcohol"
• "Inappropriate behavior"

I have a diagnosis for those: YOU'RE A PASSED-OUT DRUNK.  I also love how there is a symptom option of "broken bone."  I can diagnose that one too: YOU HAVE A BROKEN BONE.  Duh.

I hope you're all having a lovelier night than I am.  Although, to be fair, I'm currently typing this while chilling on my fire balcony and it's kinda nice - there's a breeze and the city is all lit up and I haven't dropped anything.  I guess there's still hope for an exciting day tomorrow, since that's the real day we're "celebrating" anyway.  Anyone having a barbeque that I can crash?  I'm already hydrating in preparation.  Unless I'm dead from diabetes-induced kidney failure tomorrow morning... in which case, I'd like Halle Berry to speak at my funeral.

Happy Rapture!

I sure hope Jens survives.

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: deal with it

I'm fighting a cold and bitter that I still have to go into CAP21 tomorrow.  Someday I'll post about the actual fun stuff that Andrea and I did this weekend, but right now it's grouchy time only.

me: dang theatre people  andrea: ugh. i have no patience left

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: ba dum ching!

It's Monday!  Time for me to be sick again!

Really though: get with it, body!  My first day back at work after a leisurely week off and that's when you decide to smack me with yet another cold?  Why do I get sick all the time?  Oh my god, do I have lupus??  Shit.  I suppose it's actually just proof of just how opposed my body is to being back at the job.

Now that I'm sitting in bed eating spicy soup out of a giant mug though, I'm feeling marginally better.  If I had a little bit more energy I would dance to this (or at least come up with another snappy pun):

andrea: It's only 4:00

 Where's the justice?

 molly: right here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49esza4eiK4

  womp womp 

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: back in the day

I've done it: I've gotten so lazy that I missed my self-imposed Monday midnight Widget and Sassoon deadline and you know what? I DON'T CARE.  I'm trying out this new thing called Not Being Hard On Myself.  Crazy, right?  I hear many people do it every day and actually lead lives without endless to-do lists and, shucks, what a novel idea! 

But enough about my crazy brain.  This is about my AND Andrea's crazy brain.

This April 1st marked three years of me living in New York City.  Whooooaaaaaawoowww.  I've been reminiscing about those good ol' early days lately, remembering all the super cool fun Drea and I had in the giant single apartment I was subletting in Washington Heights.

Except for that shithead cat.  About 24 hours after that photo was taken, I learned he was a fun-ruiner.

So in the spirit of nostalgia, I dug up one of the very first gchats we ever had (ever!), from that grand spring of '07.  [Note: I have no idea what "Gaslight" was.  Probably some lameo show/movie that I knew I was better off not seeing.  HA.  Clearly our online love/hate relationship was already in full bloom.]

andrea: you're druuuuunk

 molly: not anymore

  but kinda dizzy, for some reason

  i think i'm dying

  my brain is dying

 andrea: i want to do things on brightly colored pieces of paper

 molly: me too!

  a little...

i'm in one of those moods where i'm wide awake and have the urge to do ... something

  but i have no idea what

  it should probably be sleep

 hey i completely changed my mind about thurs night

  i don't really want to see "gaslight" any more bc i have too much shit to do

  i need to start packing too

 andrea: blah blah blah

  you just want to blow me off

  and NOT do things on brightly colored pieces of paper!

 molly: you're so right

  i'm actually making a voodoo doll of you

 andrea: i hate you

 molly: that's my crafty craftiness

 andrea: bah.

 molly: g'night buttface

 andrea: bah.

And with that memento, G'NIGHT BUTTFACES!

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: this post is rated PG-13 for boob talk

Another short and sweet post today, comrades.  It's almost midnight and I'm cranky and I need to eat my baked potato and take a shower and drink vodka.  What, you want a segue?  Pfffsshht, okay. 

I've continually been talking myself off of ledges for the past few days, sparked especially by my attempts to do my taxes (anyone want to give me Turbo Tax help in exchange for hugs and cookies??) and climaxing today when I accidentally slept in until 11:10am (I'm supposed to be at work at 10:00).  But you know who's the champ of talking me off ledges?  Drea Drea.  Even when I'm irrationally freaking out about my boobs. Sha-BAM.

molly: in other news, i've been paranoid because i've continually had weird chest pains around my heart, but now i think maybe i'm just continually pulling my boob muscle

  can you pull a boob muscle?

  i mean, it seems possible, right?

 andrea: i dunno

 molly: or is it a slowly developing heart attack?

 andrea: i mean, there must be muscle underneath your boob

  heart attacks don't develop slowly silly

 molly: but maybe mine is!

  or it's a stroke!

 andrea: its not a stroke

 molly: i'm benjamin button old!

 andrea: no no no

  you're being ridiculous

 molly: sheesh

 next time i go to the doctor i'm gonna make her explain the musculature of the boob

 but i realized it's the side where i always carry my giant bags so.... yeah

 andrea: that sounds like a very edifying conversation topic

molly: i like to make a doctor feel like they're really earning they're paycheck

 andrea: me too

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: I'm dying. (Maybe.) (Probably not.)

I am a baaaad hypochondriac.  Or, rather, a good hypochodriac?  I'm good at being a hypochondriac in a baaaad way - get it?  Basically, on any given day, I can surely describe to you a number of diseases that I have based on self diagnosis (with the help of Google).  Brain tumors, breast cancer, heart attack, aneurysm - I'm always on the verge of something.  Usually this paranoia is fleeting, but sometimes I need Andrea to talk me down:

• 3/26/08 - 11:54am

molly: i'm in hypochondria mode and i need you to convince me that i don't have laryngeal papillomatosis

 andrea: what the hell is that?

  that's not even a thing

 molly: it is! it is! it's what happening because my larynx is swelling up with disease!

http://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/voice/laryngeal.asp

 after that you should read this: http://twitter.com/fireland

 andrea: no.

  you don't have that

  you have a sore throat

 molly: but it's swelling up with... tumor things

 andrea: no. it isn't.

  you're a lunatic.

 molly: true

  but

  tumors....

 andrea: you do not have tumors!

  not.

  no.

  nein

  NON.

i have to go to the store, don't you go tumoring it up all over town.

molly: fiiiiiine

By the way, Fireland will cure anything that ails you.  Or... at least distract you from your impulses to Google "deviated septum death."  (Ohhhhh god, maybe don't do that.)

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: worst day ever

This has been the worst day of work I've had in a long long time.  I work for a theatre company/conservatory and we had a fancy-schmancy VIP reading of a musical tonight, meaning everyone was pissing their pants about crazy shit like programs and seating charts and paychecks for 11 hours as if the world was ending.  Oh, did I mention we're also in the crunch time of an audit?  And people sing and dance in the halls? And that sometimes I go to the bathroom just so I can lightly bang my head against the door?  True stories. 

I really wanted to hide in the bathroom all day but had to be all kind and patient because I need a paycheck.  Low moments of my day/night included (but were not limited to):

- Waking up with the awful beginnings of a cold (sore throat, head, body)
- An endless dance class with loud percussion in the room next door
- Rearranging the 73-person VIP seating chart in five minutes
- Getting coffee for Mr. Special Lyricist Man while I was supposed to be simultaneously placing signs for said seating chart and opening the box office
- Crying at my desk

I'd be ashamed of the crying-at-my-desk part if it hadn't been so well-earned.  Today was a shit storm.

Which of course means that - despite being sick - I definitely had 3 or so glasses of wine in the VIP room as soon as that show was rolling.  And some fancy crudites.

Now I'm home eating cookies and still feeling sickly and exhausted, but at least I made it through, right?  I'm tempted to dip into the Becherovka too (hey thanks Dave!), but that puts me about two seconds away from being this tomorrow:

• 5/13/09 - 9:32am
  

andrea: hey, you know what's NOT good idea?

 drinking a bottle of wine, and then going out to the bar

  on a tuesday

 molly: uh oh

  someone needs some hashbrowns....

 andrea: i do

 or cheezits and nestea 

Yeah.  Maybe just Nyquil.  And this:

Take your protein pills and put your helmet on

I am a mess today.  I blame the fact that last night I got home around 11:15pm, then decided to eat a big bowl of soba, then decided to paint my nails, and then decided to finish up season one of "Dexter" on Netflix instant watch.  Why the crap can't I ever just GO TO BED??

When I woke up this morning I felt so out of it that I convinced myself for a full three hours that I must have carbon monoxide poisoning - the slow but steady kind.  The fear is a wee bit justified since we have an older apartment and repair people came to look at our messed-up oven recently but... really. My first thought when I'm tired and sickly and cranky shouldn't be "we're all going to die in our sleep!"

This is the way my mind works, kids: in paranoid bursts.

But now, roughly five hours after waking, I have had five Dum Dums and I'm listening to David Bowie's greatest hits and feeling much better.  I forgot how awesome Dum Dums are.

Did you know there are strawberry shortcake and banana split flavors in addition to the already-awesome cream soda and butterscotch?  WOW.

Of course, I never forget how awesome David Bowie is.

DAMN. What a classy criminal he was.

So... yeah.  Feeling better, but I'm still gonna make sure we have a carbon monoxide alarm in our apartment because I'm sure I'll stay up late again tonight and wake up tomorrow feeling paranoid all over again and freak out and email my roommate again.  (Sorry Allison!)

(Mug shot via The Smoking Gun via Milk.)

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: bootard month

October is an exciting time in the land of Widget and Sassoon! Drea and I are hanging out not one, not two, but THREE weekends this month! Insane!

The first 36-hour party went down this weekend when Drea came to NYC and crashed on my granny couch from Friday to Sunday. Highlights included playing Burger Time (which I think should be called Cheeseburger Time - everyone wants cheese, amiright amiright?), wearing matchy-matchy outfits, eating gigantic onion rings, dirty dancing to the Fugees, and watching this video at least 13 times:



We then proceeded to do the Maya/Whitney shoulder shake every time things got really exciting.

Ignoring the part where I randomly got a horrendus stomach flu/food poisoning and ignoring the fact the we both now have gross colds, amazingness was had by all. I can't wait until Part B next weekend. In the meantime, we'll continue to have heart-to-hearts like this one:

• 1/7/09 - 10:27pm

molly: oh good, you're alive

 andrea: wait, was i dead?   oh, the wine

  i'm dead.

 molly: NOOO

  GET UNDEAD

 andrea: trying.

 molly: BE A ZOMBIE

 andrea: bootard

  eating brains.

  so what?

 molly: so

  you

 i am drinking gin, and also getting sleepy

 andrea: ugh. i still have to go back to somerville tonight though

  bugger

  i want to sew an ipod case

  i want EVERYTHING

 molly: somerville?

  ha, bugger

  are you british now?

 andrea: that's where joe lives

  no, just a wino

 molly: ahhh

wine brings out the brit

  and gin brings out the CRAZY

  and LAZY

  i am watching blazing saddles on amc and now all i want to do is drink and watch movies all night

andrea: YES

  me too

  but i have to take a bus

  grrr.

  and a shower.

  grrr.

 molly: are you at home?

  brighton home?

 andrea: yeah

  bootard

 molly: YOU'RE a bootard

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: why I'm sticking with improv

So I was right. I'm a big ol' sick face today so I took the day off to sit on the couch and eat soup all day and try to get better. Ick.

The plus side is that I caught up with a bunch of random television, the highlight of which was an episode of "Inside the Actor's Studio" with Amy Poehler. Damn, I want her career. When James Lipton asks his famous 10 questions at the end, she gives a serious answer and a comedic answer for each. For example:

"What is your least favorite sound?"
"Serious answer? The sound of anyone in pain. Comedic answer? A man crying while I make love to him."

Also:

"If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you enter the pearly gates?"
"Serious answer: 'Come on in.' Comedic answer: 'Your mother was right.'"

Amazing. She's definitely one of the reasons I started doing improv:

• 8/22/07 - 4:38pm

molly: i'm actually looking into improv classes

but that's whenever i can afford them...

andrea: improv classes, huh?

molly: yep

there's an amy poehler in me just waiting to burst out

i know it

andrea: you're better than amy poehler

hear me now, universe. Molly Cameron is better than Amy Poehler

molly: YOU'RE RIGHT ANDREA,

(that's the universe)

GIVE HER A SHOW, DAMMIT

(thanks universe)

OK, that's a stretch, universe and Andrea (but, aw shucks, thanks). I'm currently about to repeat Improv 401, doubting all of my writing skills, and running out of ways to zing my co-workers. Maybe this is just the sick talking, but moments like this make me think too hard about my life and wonder if I should have followed my 12-year-old dream and become a secret agent (because I hear that's really easy).

Anyway. Enough of my September moping. I'll get there eventually. Let's watch some Kaitlin.

They make it look so easy

I am currently in the thick of my standard Sunday Night Blues with a dash of Starting-To-Get-A-Cold and I'm feeling a little miserable about things. Thank god for this:



Not only is it a great song, but the backup dancers are prime examples of how to correctly smile through an awkward moment. I get the impression that the producer of this show just walked into a random high school, pulled five cute girls out of cheerleading practice, and gave them 10 minutes to come up with some moves. Watch around the 1:08 mark when the girls in the front try to correct one another - HA. The girl on the middle left is my fave - she's got the MOVES.

Let this be a lesson in perseverance to you, kids: when life gives you a stage, you better dance on it. But don't forget that even though Stevie Wonder can't see you, everyone else can.

(Thanks to Jezebel for sharing)

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: did I ever mention I once had mono?

Last year Andrea got to go to the beach for a long weekend and she rubbed it all up in my face while I was withering away eating ice pops and watching "Six Feet Under."

What a dick.

Just kidding.

(95% kidding.)

• 9/5/08 - 3:56pm

andrea: BEEEEEACH

why aren't you heeeere?

me: go away miss vacation face

because i have a SUCK JOB and MONO

andrea: ugh

mono. no

me: no kidding

so do you have wireless on the beach or something??

because then i hate you more

andrea: wireless in the house, house next to the beach

me: poop

andrea: its awesome

like a last hurrah for summertime

me: POOP

The Weekly Widget and Sassoon: I heart Web MD

Hey, remember when I had mono? That was no fun. I was bored out my mind and just surfed the internets all day reading terrible things. Good thing Andrea is my voice of reason.

• 8/16/08 - 3:08pm

molly: oh my god, i'm reading horrible things about mono

apparently if my liver is damaged badly enough, i may have to avoid alcohol for up to a YEAR

andrea: STOP

molly: i thought i used up all my bad karma!!

i know it, i need to stop

i'm convincing myself i'm getting hepatitis now

andrea: you DO NOT HAVE HEPATITIS

molly: but what if i dooooo? what if that's why i'm dehydrated??

oh wait, i think i've had that vaccine

so unless my vaccine didn't work, you're probably right

it's just a ruined liver

sigh

andrea: you're fine

you weirdo

Organic cures

This weekend has been a bust. After months of getting a gross cold roughly every three weeks, I got the mother of all of them this past Thursday. Chills, headache, nausea - the whole shebang. It's getting to the point where I think I may be having a relapse of mono, which would suck a lot. If anything, my immune system seems to be pretty destroyed. I have no idea why my body can't just pick itself up and behave.

Of course all of this got dumped on my body the weekend I finally had plans and was going to be a hip, social person. I was supposed to go to an improv show Friday, an improv practice Saturday, a party and a P&N/Thermals show Saturday night, and a Superbowl party today. Instead, I got to stay in bed.

The kicker was when I woke up this morning to find a text saying not only did P&N have an awesome show, but MICHEL GONDRY and PAUL SIMON showed up!! What the HELL? Is every part of the world against me right now?? Yes, my life is turning into garfield minus garfield.

So what does any depressed weirdo like me do? Impulse buy organic groceries. I'm pretty broke, having just wrote the rent check, but I justified it by telling myself I needed to get outside and clearly I need some vitamins in me. I spent far too much money, but it was actually a perfect outing. I came away with soymilk, agave, baked tortilla chips (so healthy, I am), arugula, a perfectly ripe avocado, an onion, raspberry Soy Delicious, strawberry Silk yogurt, a big bunch of bok choy, and oatmeal body lotion... all for roughly $37. Oops. Luckily as I passed all the discount stores on the way home I had melting ice cream with me and couldn't stop for tupperware and Japanese erasers.

So all this is going to cure my immune system, right? I'm hoping so... I'm getting at the end of my rope. I'm starting to forget what it's like to feel rested and healthy. I'm blaming January for now.

The best part of my outing was getting to actually see the sun. By the time I got back to my place it was 51 degrees. Amazing! I actually creaked open my window, cranked the Destroyer, and sat on my fire escape. Um... and maybe I blew some bubbles. Come on, wouldn't you??


I'm thinking February is going to be okay.

October is also boring

These past five weeks have apparently been so monotone and event-less that I couldn't even update my blog. Or maybe I've just been lazy. That could be it.

*Sigh*, OK, here are some things that happened, in brief:
- Mono went away... mostly
- Went to an awesome picnic with some PPK folks and stuffed myself with veggies and baked goods
- Saw Hair for the second time and Equus for the first time - lots of naked
- Continued the quest for a new apartment... still looking
- Made a sweet Fall music playlist to help me survive the cold (really, I'm excited about it)
- Turned 25 and freaked out a little about the idea that I have reached a quarter century and have no idea what I'm doing with my life
- Hung out with my sibs and sis-in-law in Ithaca where highlights included yelling at the presidential debate, seeing real live nature foliage, and eating the best apple crisp ever

And now: I'm sick with a cold, procrastinating doing real work, and thinking about how cluttered my room is with un-folded laundry and books.

Happy Wednesday!

I promise to have a real post about something interesting... soon. I promise.

Mono is boring

That Citrus Smirnoff in my freezer is getting awfully iced-over and lonely.

(I know... Smirnoff... I'm poor, OK?)

Alright, liver and spleen, listen up: I have spent roughly 17 days sitting in bed being bored (with the occasional outing to the supermarket or the dollar store - yahoo) and I'm ready to move on to more thrilling and grand activities. I would even settle for going to the gym so I could watch cable on the treadmill.

Last night - a lovely, cool, end-of-August Friday - I celebrated by eating ice cream, watching all the rest of the "Upright Citizens Brigade" I had from Netflix, and reading three-quarters of a Calvin & Hobbes compilation. Wild.

And today, instead of going to the beach and a sweet birthday party, I will probably make my bed, re-arrange my iTunes playlists, and watch the last disc of "Six Feet Under" - Season 4. Maybe also make a bunch of cupcakes and eat them all while pouting at the wall.

Get it liver & spleen? Calm down, stop threatening to explode, and let me return back to society in the very near future. OK? OK??

At least I can finally stomach coffee again.

Another $20 and 6 days later...

I knew this "virus" was more exciting than it appeared to be... I have MONONUCLEOSIS! Also known by it's hip street name, "mono," - or, if you're thirteen, "the kissing disease" - it's characterized by an intense need for sleep and... more sleep. And then some sleeping.

While maybe perhaps I have been partaking in some spit-swapping, I think my body is actually paying me back for packing my schedule full of every possible event and then marinating it in vodka. And trying to do it all on five or six hours of sleep per night. But my liver says NO.

Yes, my liver is Russian and looks like that guy. I'm not eating those crazy mushrooms, though... sorry liver.

I'm a little bit lucky because I haven't been experiencing the extreme, swollen sore throat that seems to be common with the virus, but it still sucks. These are the last sweet, beautiful days of summer! I should be running around in the parks eating Mr. Softees and drinking mimosas! I suppose that's kind of what got me here though. Instead, I am lying in bed reading cheesy magazines and watching old "Jim Henson Hour" clips on YouTube because going to the grocery store down the street is the biggest excursion I can handle.

Happy early vacation to me! Yay.

Good things about being really sick

According to my doctors I have a "really bad virus," although I'm not convinced it's that simple. When I shell out a $20 co-pay, I want to be told that my headache/fever/vomiting/frighteningly large glands are the result of something with a much better name than "really bad virus." And require better meds than Tylenol.

Alas. It looks like even after a week of fighting, my body is being left to fend for itself. While the battle of the insides rages on, I figured it couldn't hurt to think positively. Here's what I've been enjoying for the past few days:

- Getting to sleep with multiple blankets - even in the middle of August!
- Eating like a picky four-year-old. The staples of my diet are primarily saltines, popsicles, white rice, applesauce, and animal crackers. Actually, I was also able to stomach some carrots, green beans, and avocado today. Gold star!
- The realization that nausea might finally help me drop those last 5 pounds!
- Floating through work and having no idea how I finished those projects or where the time went (so... kind of like every day).
- The best dreams EVER. Including (1) the one where I am in the middle of tech for some show and I'm all pissed off because Miley Cyrus stole my sequined gown for the saloon scene and I realize it's because her dad is the director, even though everyone calls him Paul and he looks suspiciously like Adam McKay AND (2) the one where I "wake up" in a small room within an Australian airport to discover that some guy has taken my blood samples and possibly some of my organs to sell and that's why I'm so sick. YEAH. (That second one was so great and dramatic because I kept yelling "Look how sick I am! What have you done??" and the guy was crouched on the floor crying and yelling "I cahn't tell yuuuu" in an Aussie accent.)

So yeah, fun times all around. I guess while my face keeps sweating profusely and my glands continue to freak me out I can at least hope for some more awesome dreams. And since I probably can't truly blame some Aussie organ harvester, I'll go the usual route and blame the cats:


Damn you, flu cat! I said GET OUT!