Category: Random

New stuff!

Things I’m doing lately:

Improv, sketch and other sundry comedy things at the Push Comedy Theater, and helping with some of their marketing efforts.

Assistant producing The 666 Project

Storytelling (performing and acting as a board member) for Tell Me More Live.

Short Form Improv with On the Fly

Working at Entercom Corporate and running the Radio Works brand. Read it!

Launching a brand new sketch comedy group, The Pre Madonnas. Like us!

Besides that, I am also gardening, going to the gym (I went four times in one week, which is a personal record!), taking long walks on the beach with my friend and her baby, going to shows, and eating tacos. I haven’t gone on any dates since my 30 Dates Project, and never got around to writing about that either. So sometimes I’m a complete failure, but other times I’m doing quite well.

Why i don’t know if i’ll ever finish unpacking….

On Saturday i went to a going-away party for a friend who works downtown.

Got home by midnight, fell asleep.

On Sunday i went to brunch, then to Blend, then to Buckroe Beach, then to the hardware store. later melissa came over and we juiced so much stuff. pre-juicing cornocopia below:

On Monday i slept in a bit, then went shopping. i bought this dress, which i’ve been told is AWESOME and is PERECT and it was only $14 so i’m STOKED:

I also got two other dresses, heels, two blazers, a purse and a blouse, and some shampoo and toiletries, all for under $150.

Then i went to a Chinese buffet with a friend, rented “Ted” from Redbox and watched that, and “How I Met Your Mother.”

On Tuesday I worked, went to a friend’s house for dinner, then went to the gym. And i didn’t fall over. 12 minutes on the elliptical and 25 on the machines. i didn’t hate it. Then we went to walmart.

Today i work, then i have dinner with my friend from Richmond.

Tomorrow I work, then i go see the sneak peek of Warm Bodies with a friend. Then i hope said friend will help me put stuff in my attic.

On Friday, I work in Va. Beach, then i am going to see American Idiot at Chrysler Hall. When i am done with that, Mallory (my bestie) will have arrived at my house from Radford.

On Saturday I take my mom out to lunch and give her a birthday present. Then I have to buy a baby shower gift and find something to do Saturday night. I’m *thisclose* to getting tickets to see the Ambassadors at the Norva, because i truly love them.

On Sunday I do brunch, a baby shower, laundry and juicing with Melissa late night.

THIS IS WHY I NEVER UNPACK MY HOUSE. I literally am home, (when i’m not asleep or getting ready to leave, or working) an hour a day at most, it seems.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of because words diminish your feelings – words shrink things that seem timeless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out.

Stephen King (via meet-greet-beat-the-ego)

laundry

I have been going non stop today with work, so here’s a quick glimpse into my life: I refuse to do laundry until I absolutely must. This results in me leaving the house in a long skirt, wrinkled tank top and cardigan I found in the back of my closet that I probably haven’t worn in at least a year. It’s a little tight. DON’T CARE. I WON THE LAUNDRY WAR YET AGAIN.

three things

1. i am typing with two hands, finally.

2. i hate it when you meet someone and immediately like them, in that “i-want-to-talk-to-you-some-more-because-i-find-you-very-interesting-and-also-kinda-hot” way, but you have no idea how to make that happen. 

3. I’m working from home today so i don’t infect other people in my office. my cats run out of the room every time i sneeze. 

Day 31: Bills, Bills, Bills

Guess who received the first of many hospital bills today? Have to be thankful I have insurance, but jeesh. This is going to be a lean holiday season. Hopefully I’ll file my taxes super early and use my refund to pay off the majority of what I’ll owe.

Like most women, I currently live in a society where violence, harassment and scary shit can break out at any moment, just because I told some random asshole “no” without bothering to be nice about it. Doing that is so dangerous that most women don’t dare; after a few scary incidents, they learn to make up excuses, to smile, to be sweet and welcoming, to act as if every single random asshole on the street is a precious new friend that they would just LOVE to stand outside of the Chipotle and chat with FOR HOURS, if only cruel fate had not intervened. That’s what it’s actually like, being a woman: Playing nice with every random asshole, because this random asshole might be the one who hurts you. And then, if he hurts you anyway, they’ll tell you that you led him on.

Tiger Beatdown (via pnasty)

This is so relevant to everything.

(via mindyshabibti)

THIS THIS THIS. 

This is what rape culture looks like.

(via silverqueen)

And so many men fucking do not get this.  

(via northerndownpour)

Nablopomo Day 26: Taboo?

i had an interesting coversation with a male friend today. 

is anyone else like me, in that i never, ever make a move? i mean, never? i told my friend i don’t recall ever being the person to DTR, drop th eL-bomb or even express my feelings first, besides the chaos that was my major high school boyfriend.

my friend and i then decided to make things even more awkward by discussing how “taboo” it is to turn to a friend and say “hi, i don’t know if you know this, but i wouldn’t mind be naked with you some time in the future.” 

and then, because i am an asshole, i reminded him of the time he did that with me.  we laughed and moved on. and the thing is, i don’t really know why he did that (a long time ago) but i’m pretty sure it wasn’t for the “right” reason; not that there’s any real definition of that. i care for him a great deal and it was definitely not right for us.

Last fall i briefly got involved with someone for no “right” reason. he was a good friend whom i’d known for 13 years (longer than Mallory) and we haven’t spoken in about a year. 

that’s why it’s “taboo,” i think. because when you cross that line it’s hard to go back. it’s a test of your friendship and usually, you or he will disappoint. usually both. 

and if you really, truly care about someone, what could make you take that chance? seriously? some guarantee that it will work? i don’t know. i’d like to think i’d take the chance on the right person at the right time. 

NaBloPoMo Day 25: Hot and Cold

Last night after a lovely meal, Mal and I went to see Breaking Dawn. After that we came home to watch the cat play with the iPad.
unfortunately for me, the rest of my night sucked. Narcotics withdrawal has me wrecked: flu-like symptoms, including nausea, stuffy nose, and, the worst, hot and cold flashes. I couldn’t sleep last night so I slept most of the day. Can’t wait till this is over. I’m down to no nerve pills and half a hydrocodone when the going gets tough, along with a ton of acetemetophin for the actual pain. I’m also taking a ton of calcium and vitamin D to help the bones heal/fuse.
This could be worse. This could be worse. This could be worse.
I know that is true but… Now that i’m not doped up i’m so, so cranky and frustrated and kinda depressed.

NaBloPoMo,Day 24: Thanks for all the fish

Happy Thanksgiving, one and all. Here’s my annual list:
I am thankful for Barefeet Shoes and its $20 boots, peppermint tea, honey badgers, Florence and The Machine, white clover, grey nail polish, leave-in hair conditioner, red lipstick, Target $10 V-neck tee shirts, fan-style space heaters, old typewriters, fluffy bathrobes and hand-knit scarves.
I’m also thankful for Mr. Trouble, my mom’s cocker spaniel, who always greets me like we haven’t seen each other in ten years. I’m thankful for my big-eyed tabby, Puddin, and my fat Siamese, Pyle, and all their homoerotic snuggling.
I’m thankful for,most importantly, my friends and family. The past two months have been awful, but they would have been so much worse if I didn’t have amazing people who take care of me and support me and make me laugh.

NaBloPoMo Day 15: Chocolate and soda

i am seriously wondering when I’ll be rational and lucid. Take for example my diet today: subway, pizza, soda and a Russell Stover box. I’m blaming my parents and their eating tendencies. I don’t usually drink soda or eat sweets. And I even told my mom I wanted to eat as healthy as possible so I can heal. But as soon as the chocolate was offered it was all over. I can’t remember simple details from conversations I had yesterday, and I ramble a LOT. I’m being a bitch, too, since I’m getting frustrated easily, along with being woozy and in pain.
I have also, while under the effects of my meds, invited multiple people to the house. When lucid I realize how stupid that is: I’m really not up for it. My schedule is like this: wake, take meds, eat, read, doze, take meds, eat, nap, meds, Facebook, nap, eat, meds, tv, sleep. Rinse and repeat. I’m in this weird sitch in that at least until my doc appointment Monday, I really can’t shower; I can’t position my body in any way that would keep water clear of my left arm and right leg. Super frustrating.
But you know what? I’ve got the windows open and a cat for my lap. Today is better than yesterday. Things will get better.

NaBloPoMo Day 14: Shattered

I got pretty upset today when they unwrapped my leg. After the doctor left the room I went to grab my phone and dropped it. The screen shattered. It figures that on my last day in the hospital one more thing had to go wrong. I’m home now. I have a horrible headache and everything hurts. My friend are all texting me and offering to come over and bring me food. I’m taking reservations. I think many of them don’t quite understand the extent of my injuries. I’m not allowed to drive, can’t shower, am hobbling around on a crutch, and have one arm in a sling. The fingers on my left hand, also, are so swollen they won’t move. Anyone coming to see me isn’t really here for a social call. I can’t really take care of myself very well. Luckily I have my mom taking care of me.
I know things are going to get better. Right now it’s hard to keep that in mind.

NaBloPoMo Day 13: Walking and Talking

Hospital food is so awful. Today I was able to walk around my room, change my clothes and sit in a chair for an hour or so. Progress! However, the fingers on my left hand are still way more swollen than they should be. I asked for a doctor to come look at them, but no one had came yet. If you ever have to be in the hospital for multiple days, don’t go on the weekends – it’s like impossible to get anyone’s attention. My nurses have been great but between shift changes and staffing, I feel like things get forgotten.
I may get to go home tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about it.

NaBloPoMo Day 12: When can I put some pants on?

I have been in the same hospital robe since Thursday morning. HOPEFULLY, today I will get out of bed and be able to put on some pants. It’s going to be awesome.

In other news, the fingers on my left hand are giving me some problems.
They sting and I can’t stretch them out, which is really frustrating. I’m also getting an echocardiogram because of the arrythmias I had immediately after surgery.

I did get to sleep last night, finally, but I couldn’t sleep for long, the morning shift change is loud.

NaBloPoMo Day 11: Of Hearts and Underwear

So, here’s the deal: I had some heart arrythmia last night, so I was in recovery for HOURS.
But the cardiologist said today it was no big deal. i’m probably going to cut back on the caffeine, though.
In other news, I’m supposed to start walking around tomorrow, and my mom didn’t bring my clothes to me before she went home. So, the lovely, amazing Mallory went to Target to buy me underwear. She is seriously the best friend in the world.
For those of you who haven’t heard me describe my best friend, take note:
This will be our 12th New Year’s Eve together.
We first began spending time together in 2000, because we were both taking the creative writing class offered at Phoebus High School.

I can’t really think of how to describe our friendship. We know each other’s secrets, and would never share them. We have inside jokes that last for years. We share the good times and support each other during the dark times; deaths, injuries, breakups, unemployment, family sickness, birthdays, new years, moving, unrequited crushes (SO MANY CRUSHES OMG), the flu, concerts in the rain, competitive board games, giant bugs. Mallory is one of few people on the planet I would physically fight for. I will defend her to the death and if someone insults her or makes her feel bad about anything, I see red. I’ve been known to yell at people if they’re mean to her.

We’ve shared so much sometimes I wonder how we could ever function apart. It may be codependent and occasionally intimidating to anyone trying to befriend us, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. A friend of mine last week said “Wow, you guys do a have a special relationship. Do you like, sing ballads to her when you’re in the house?”
Maybe I do? What of it?
We’ve joked about how we’ll never have boyfriends because we only love each other, but that’s not true at all. We have lots of room in our hearts, for sure. The only stipulation to our romantic lives is that the guy has to like the roomie enough to conspire with her on Christmas and birthday gifts.

Mallory came to the hospital today bearing ChicFilA, a peppermint mocha, and perfume and happy pants from the Gap outlets. Later she went to Target to buy me underwear.
Honestly when she walked into my hospital room today, a wave of relief washed over me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see someone. I love my mom, but we can only stand so much of each other.

Anyone, I think, would feel weird buying underwear for someone else, but not Mal. She bought the right color, size and style; the same ones I would have bought myself. Mallory holds my heart and owns my ass.
I’m writing this all loopy on pain meds, so this isn’t by any means particularly well-written. Sorry!

NaBloPoMo, Day 10: Bob is gone!

Posting late today because I was on too many drugs to function, sorry. Dilaudid, which was what I received, is apparently STRONGER than morphine. I got the good drugs! (Apparently so good that while I was in recovery in the beginning, the nurses asked me where I was and I said “Entercom.” Shout out to my homies 🙂 Also, they asked me where I was from and I said “feathers.”)

Guess what, ya’ll? We got that bastard. I am still in the recovery room, unfortunately, because I was having heart arrythmias, but I’m about to move to a room. I haven’t actually spoken to my doctors, but I will in the morning.

Thank you all so much for the well-wishes. I can’t begin to describe how much they are appreciated.

I’ll keep updating. Thanks!

NaBloPoMo Day Eight: Complaints

My doctor looked at me like i was crazy yesterday. Apparently doc#1 should have been more clear: I’m going to be in the hospital for the whole weekend not because they are worried about infection, but because they think I’ll be in so much pain/stop doped up I won’t be able to function. Great. Oh, and I shouldn’t work until Nov. 21. Even better.
I’ve been as positive as I can. It’s time I take a moment to complain.
These are things that make me angry: three scars, two on my arm and one on my leg. They’re taking the bone from my right leg; my left leg is the one I had surgery on four years ago. So both of my legs will have scars. I’m losing the joint: it’s hard to explain, but the fibula bone from my leg is going to extend from my arm into my hand; I won’t be able to bend my wrist. I told a coworker I shouldn’t be able to “vogue,” and she said “or walk like an egyptian.” I love her.
I hate that I got the first of many bills in the mail yesterday. I hate that my mom is superstressed and stressing me out in the process. I hate that I never clean my room or put away my laundry, and now I need help to do so. I hate that you can’t wear makeup in surgery; how is a little bit of concealer going to hurt anything? I hate that I’m at the point that vicodin isn’t really affecting me at all, it seems. I hate that I can’t turn my hand to put on deoderant under my right arm. I hate that I don’t have the ability to put my hair up in a ponytail easily. I hate that I can’t pick up a pint glass, open a can of soup, cut my own meat, do dishes, fold laundry or pick up my cat. I hate that I have to put off my travel for work. I hate that I won’t be able to work, that’s seriously making me angry and kinda depressed.
For some humor: it FIGURES that as soon as I’m absolutely NOT interested in, um, dating and whatnot, something interesting happens and I basically have to ignore it because god knows it wouldn’t be fair to him or me.
Flipping the switch back to “good” Amber; my friends are kind and good, I’m not going to die, etc.
I think I’m focusing on the immediate frustrations right now so my mind didn’t drift to the actual surgery and aftermath.

NaBloPoMo Day 4: Live music

So here’s the thing: Writing a blog post every day during the month of November is going to be really hard. It’s not just the whole tumor/surgery thing: it’s days like today, during which I’m slammed at work until 7 pm and then I have to run errands and then I’m at a venue for a show and THEN I remember I’m supposed to write. Whoops.

NaBloPoMo Day Two: Bargaining, part one

I didn’t know I’d have to take of my pants on Monday.

I sat in a hard metal chair with tears streaming down my face as the xray tech looked at my chest scans and readied her doodads for the next two scans (wrist and leg).

I was wishing for clear lung scans. If Bob had metasticized to my lungs, we’d have to stop, and start chemo. But if my scans were clear, we could proceed with the new plan, and we’d be in surgery within two weeks.

If you talk to God our some higher power or force, and have ever had something make you really, truly afraid or powerless, you know about bargaining. I explained it (my version, at least) to my mom on the drive home. Yes, you’re making sometimes-empty promises, but you’re also identifying your own shortcomings. It’s one of the truest forms of self reflection there is, I think.

I’m glad I didn’t have any major things to promise. I can say I’ll be better in general, but I’ve already got the major stuff covered.

There’s a gate in our heads, too— that’s what I think. One that keeps the insanity in all of us from flooding our intellects. And at critical moments, it swings open and all kinds of weird shit come flooding through.

Just After Sunset, Stephen King. (via moonlightmiles)

Sorry to do this…

According to my Twitter and Facebook, many of my friends are having horrible days. Which is why I’m not posting this to Twitter or Facebook. 

But i had to get it out.

I HAD AN AWESOME DAY

My hair is super curly with minimal effort (win!), there are brownies in the breakroom, i didn’t hit traffic coming in, i had a GREAT, almost mind-blowing second demo with a vendor, i was offered a nice opportunity that i’m going to take, that might even sort of enrich my life (more on that later), i had a great call with my kansas city point of contact, i chatted with people and they were nice and said i need a real office, i spoke with the another person i like a lot, and my current boss was nice to me on the phone and said some things that reassured me that i’m not crazy, and i think even that maybe i’m doing a halfway decent job. 

that’s a good day, for real. 

i’m concerned i’m jinxing myself. i’ll update at some point and say if things take a turn for the worse.

and for my friends who have had bad days; i’m so sorry. sending you good vibes. things will get better. 

billyengland:

My friend, Pete Pittman, went through his old photos and found these pictures of Jimi Hendrix performing at The Virgina Beach Dome in the 60’s.

Now it’s awkward

I’m slowly starting to cull my old blog entries from various places … Here’s one from years ago:

Now it’s awkward…

Posted 05-21-2008 at 05:55 PM by DPamberleigh

The Washington Post ran an interesting article May 11 about the word “awkward.” 

Although Mal and I believe the term, its use and what it “really” means could be explained further, we’d prefer to offer our own alternate expressions, mostly relating to life in downtown Hampton.

To whit:

1. The guy who’s yelling about the Redskins or Steelers whilst surrounded by Cowboys fans:

“Jockward”

2. The old guy at Goodfellas who keeps staring at your table of four girls:

“Gawkward”

3. The way you speak in fragmented sentences, or can’t think of the right phrase, after “Blackout Sundays:”

“Talkward”

4. Hearing the scary hyena laugh from the booth behind you at Taphouse or Marker:

“Squawkward”

5. Realizing your friend locked her keys in her car, after sharing a bottle of pinot noir at Marker:

“Lockward”

6. Missing last call at Taphouse, only to miss it again at Marker because you had to say goodbye to everyone at Tap:

“Clockward”

(also, trying to order food at Taphouse ten minutes after the kitchen closes)

7. Someone at Goodfellas or Marker butchering a well-known song on karaoke:

“Rockward”

(also, Navy boys with tight pants. Ya’ll know why.)

8. Walking in on someone in the Taphouse bathroom because they forgot to lock the door:

“Knockward”

9. The girl who keeps grabbing the bar/other people to steady herself while walking throught the crowd on the deck at Marker:

“Walkward”

10. When someone follows you from one bar to the next, trying to engage you in conversation at each one. Also, running into said person the next time you’re downtown:

“Stalkward”

11. When a group of people walks into any of the bars, and there’s so many of them they take up the whole bar, order eight shots and eight beers, (and not all the same kind!) try to push the tables together and/or irritate all the servers who are trying to be cut:

“Flockward”

And finally:
Downtown on Saturday night, seeing someone from high school/an ex/an ex-friend/the person you’ve been avoiding for two weeks/the person you made out with last weekend and forgot to call:

“Blockward”

That is all. Thanks for reading.

One of the really bad things you can do to your writing is to dress up the vocabulary, looking for long words because you’re maybe a little bit ashamed of your short ones.

STEPHEN KING (via theperksofalipglossgirl)

The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.

Stephen King (via bstaszie)

There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.

Jane Austen (Northanger Abbey)

And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened.

Douglas Coupland, Life After God (via poeticheartache)