The Power of Positive Thinking

I’ve been doing a nightly positive thinking meditation podcast (don't worry, I hate me too) so I’ve been spending much of my day trying to turn my negative thoughts into positive thoughts..

Tell me how I’m doing..

While laying in bed in the morning I thought, “I may never be successful”.  I positively spun it into, “I’m positive all this hard work is all for naught and I’m POSITIVE I will definitely succeed at being the opposite of successful”.

See what I did there?   I added the word positive twice, used the swanky term, all for naught (and I also said it in a british accent) for some flair and I used the word definitely instead of never.

When stuck at a never-ending red light I thought, “This is the longest light in the whole wide world, I’m never going to get to where I need to be and I’m going to die here in my car”. I switched that to, “Wow, this light is so thorough...  she is really taking her time to make this the best light transition from Red to Green in all of the intersections in LA. I admire her work ethic, and strive to be more like this stop light”.

While at an audition, I looked around and thought, “I’m old”. I quickly changed this to,  “There are some people who are younger than me and then there are some people who are older than me, and they are gonna die before me.  Unless something weird or unexpected happens… but if it’s an old-age thing, I will probably live longer.  However there are many cases where people outlive others.. like my nana who smoked every day and she lived way longer than my other grandmother who was clean as a whistle.  So, nothing really matters”.

When at the gym I thought, “I’m fat”. Then while drowning in my own sweat on the stair climber I flipped it into the thought, “I’m a full figured flower who should embrace her curves...although hollywood won’t...but some people will embrace it… but those people don’t matter… but they matter to someone… so… I’m not fat? I’m not fat”.  

When on Facebook, looking at everyone’s pregnant, baby, wedding, engagement, etc photos I thought, “My eggs are going to die and I’m going to die alone” … and I put a positively positive spin on this by thinking, “Kids ruin your life... so eggs, freeze away! And I WILL die alone BUT happy without a fat, snoring man to suck my soul.”

And after brushing my teeth, and snuggling into bed I thought, “I’m a loser… but I'm the biggest loser… so I WIN”!

I think the power of positive thinking is working for me!


The Perfect Cure for the Break-up

Listen, break-ups suck, no matter what. They suck when your ex is the biggest asshole in the world because you’re left thinking, Why did I date such an asshole? How could my friends let me date such an asshole? Who can I blame for this!? They suck when your ex is the nicest guy in the world because you’re left thinking, How am I going to beat that? EVERYONE else out there is a troll!!!! They suck when it’s long distance because it’s out of your control. They suck when you break up with him because then you feel guilty. They suck when he breaks up with you because then you think you could have done something better or you feel like a psycho hose beast, or both. Any way you slice it, they just suck.

It’s hard to kick a break-up, but I think I figured out a way to smile and laugh while going through the break-up blues. Check it out.  


Happy Anniversary Los Angeles!

Happy Year Anniversary Los Angeles!

I have officially lived in Los Angeles for one entire year. I can’t believe I’ve made it a whole year here without knowing how to parallel park. I know, I’m impressed with myself.  If you asked me a year ago how I felt about LA, I’d say things like,  “It’s fine, but it’s no New York”,   “I’m a fish out of water”, and “This place is stupid”.

A year later, I still stand by the “LA is no New York comment”, but I have learned to appreciate LA much more…. especially because while it’s 8 degrees outside in my beloved NY, today I went for a hike, had brunch outside, and I currently have all my windows open and I’m in a tank top.

Before I moved here, I was one of those people who scoffed at people when they said that they loved LA because of the “weather” and the “quality of life”.  I don’t need good weather or a quality of life!  I’m a New Yorker.  All I need is a pulse! But being in the City of Angels, I get it. OKAY?! I get it.  It doesn’t mean I’d trade the mean streets of New York for sunshine and open space permanently, but I understand it.  

I don’t love the person I’ve become here. LA sucked me in and made me a horrible person. I’m healthier, I’ve lost weight, I drink way less alcohol, I listen to podcasts and I hike. It’s disgusting.  Living here has made me soft.  I don’t think I could have lived through the winter that the East Coast is in currently… I just put on a sweatshirt to walk my dog and it’s 68 degrees outside. I drink green juices, and I listen to a meditation podcast for positive thinking before I sleep at night.  My former New York self hates me, and wants to seriously kick my weak little hippy ass.  

I can’t quite write a love letter to LA yet, but I can say thank you for the 70 degrees, the natural light in my new mice-less apartment, and Griffith Park. I still miss New York… not everyday, but a few times a week and I still feel like I’ll be back.  

Hey New Yorkers, stay warm my little lovelies, and remember that the grass is always greener than the green juice you drink after a hike at Runyon with a bunch of asshole actors talking about their meetings and the latest project they’re working on. Keep your head up. 



The Perks of Living Alone

Hallelujah! I live alone again! After 5 years of living alone in NY, I moved to LA and had a roommate for the past year. To be perfectly honest, my living situation this past year was very comfortable, so I’ll curb my bitching and moaning.  A beautiful building and apartment, a fancy rooftop pool with a breathtaking view of Downtown LA, a washer/dryer in the unit, a roommate who took me in with open arms, etc. But I don’t care if your roommate is Billie Joe Armstrong, (I’m a huge Greenday Fan.  I’m sorry.  We’ll talk about it at another time) there is NOTHING like living alone.

There are many perks to living alone.

1. Coming home drunk and shoveling half a jar of almond butter into your mouth because there is nothing else to eat and no one there to judge you, or to know it ever happened. I mean, for all the next person who looks into your fridge knows, you bought that jar weeks ago… so yea, of course it’s almost done.  You’ve had the recommended serving size 17 times.  Not 17 servings in one sitting which watching a DVRed episode of Millionaire Matchmaker at 1am on a Tuesday.  THAT would be CRAZY.   

B.  Having the living room to yourself whenever you want, to do whatever you want.  You can tweeze ingrown hairs while laying on the couch watching the View, yelling at the TV that you disagree with Whoopi and you’re with Rosie on this one without shame or embarrassment.

C. Weird bathroom behavior.  When living solo, you can use the bathroom with the door open, If it’s yellow, always let it mellow, and you can blow dry your hair and poop at the same time to save yourself some time in the am.  Don't knock it til you try it.

4.  You can bring home whoever you want with no one to judge you but your dog.  And as cute as Oliver is, his opinion doesn’t matter because he licks his own butthole.  Please don’t tell PETA I said that or start some hashtag #dogsopinionsmatter.

5. But the best part about living alone is being naked as much as you possibly can in the most non-attractive ways possible.  Cooking naked, cleaning naked, naked scrap booking, naked bookkeeping, naked organizing, naked laundry…. Naked, nakedness.

Now I need a couch, a TV, and some tweezers to make this list happen.





The Truth on Men As Providers

When men reach a certain age they go through the, “I Need to be a Provider” crisis. It’s usually around the age of 30 and it also often compliments the women’s, “I Need to have Kids Soon or my Eggs are going to Dry Up and Die” stage. Add a glass of Cabernet to the mix, and Viola! Nervous breakdowns for everyone!

I’ve been thinking about these two stages a lot.  Ready for kids or not, as a woman, I sometimes think about my eggs dying because it’s a biological issue…It’s a scientific fact that the older I get, the harder it will be for my ovaries to wake up and make a baby happen.  I’m thinking at this age, my ovaries are kind of like my comedy career.  I have time… but if they don’t start making moves, they are going to wind up doing community theatre in Boca Raton Florida for the rest of their lives.  Make sense? Great!

But the “Men as Providers” breakdown… it’s such an old school mentality.  It’s a “Bring Home the Bacon” way of thinking.  Nowadays, women are happy to bring home their own bacon.  Well, for me it’s turkey bacon, but who’s counting?  I only need men to provide me with a few things.  

  1. I need them to kill mice.  I really can’t bring myself to kill them.  I can get them on the trap but then I throw them out the window because I couldn’t handle killing them and putting them out of their misery.  So yes, if I find myself back in New York, I would like a live-in man to kill mice for me.  Note: This is more of an East Coast issue.

  1. Changing light bulbs.  My ceiling are high, and because I don’t have a ladder, when I climb on my step stool, I still can’t reach to change my light bulbs.  I have a really tall friend, Kelly, who could probably do it for me, but it would be nice to have a live-in man to do that while wearing nothing but a tool belt. Note: Please see picture to the right. You're welcome.


  1. And the third thing that I need a man to provide is SEX. That’s it. Plain and simple.  

So men, stop worrying about being a provider.  Just get your mouse-killing game down, do some stretching for a lengthy reach, buy a tool belt, and be available for sex whenever possible.





Single and Ready to Mingle... with a 40 year old homeless man....

176528_822491218947_1855399_oSo I've been dating someone since I moved to LA and we finally and officially broke up last week.  So you know what that means...  I am BACK ON TINDER. Let the good times roll.  Because my ex was was 30 going on 15 years old, I decided to try something new, a 40 year old.  40 year olds are men right?! I need a man dammit. 

So I find a cute 40 year old on Tinder and we chat a little bit via Tinder and text and he seems really cool.  He was a pro skateboarder and now he produces skateboarding videos for a legit company.  We had good text banter and decide to meet the next night for a drink.  

A half hour before our date he called me.... Yup, called me... and he seemed funny and sounded cute and I got really excited.  He also offered to pick me up, but i told him I didn't want him to know where I lived just in case he would try to kill me in my sleep if our date didn't go well, but the offer was sweet. 

I get to the bar and he's already ordered his drink but didn't take a sip because he was waiting for me to get there and cheers him.  Cute!  So I order my drink and.... he lets me pay for it.  Woof.  He's 40 and he let me pay for my drink.  Okay, fine.

We are having good conversation,. he's cute, we are getting cozy and it's time for drink two... he says, "Hey I'll get this round, but you're getting the next one... it's 2014 right?". And there may have been a wink in there. Yea, I think he winked.

Wow.  Okay.  

Then he asks me where I live exactly. I tell him that I live next door to the Standard Hotel and from their pool you can actually look across the street and see my gym.  He had recently been to the Standard and remembers the gym and that's when he dropped the bomb of dating-stories gold.

He says, "Oh that's your gym.  Nice! I go to 24 hour fitness but I only joined the gym because I live out of my car a lot and I use the gym to shower and use the bathroom." 

Did you get that? He lives in his car.

"How often do you live in your car?" I ask.

"Well, this one time for a year... then one time for 6 months.... and then a few more months recently and then I moved into my place in April.  You should come over sometime, we usually have a kiddie pool on the roof but we emptied it and now there's water in our ceiling and walls. Woops, I was supposed to call the landlord about that. But yea, I live in my car sometimes." 

"Check please. Don't worry John, I'll get this round."

So I let him drive me home because he was homeless yet harmless.... the car was nice and much cleaner than I had expected.  A 2008 Prius that smelled like new.

"Wow, you'd never know you've lived so long in this car."

"Yea I'm very clean, Lindsey.  I have it together". 

25, 40, 30... I guess age doesn't really mean a thing. 


Help! I'm acting like a Psycho Hose Beast

ytY0aBDI moved to LA for me.  For my career, to change my life, and so my son, Oliver can grow up in an environment that would provide a “better quality of life”.  So recently when I started hanging out with a cute boy, I wasn’t looking for a distraction and I especially wasn’t looking for a relationship at all… but let me break something down for you:

When a guy says, “I can’t get into something… I have too much going on… I’m focusing on myself and my career right now but I’m down to hang a little”,  that’s exactly what they mean.  When a girl says it they mean, “I can’t get into something… too much going on… focusing on myself and my career… I like you A LOT, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m not looking for anything right now but are you my boyfriend? When are we gonna make it face book official? Do you like me like I like you? Yes let’s take our time, take it easy… … let’s just hang out …but like 4 times a week okay? And if I don’t hear from you every couple of hours I’m gonna feel crazy.  Do you think I’m crazy? YOU are making me crazy.  I like you. I’m sorry ”.

So while yes, I’m newly dating someone, by the time you read this I may not be because I have been acting like a psycho hose beast.

So this is a cry for help. Help! I can’t stop being crazy and this guy is a really nice guy and I haven’t thought about my ex or Tindered in months.  Score! 

Listen, I’m hoping he doesn’t read this, but if he does….  I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about this other dude… so don’t get a big head about it… you’re alright but I’m really busy and I can’t really get into something right now so let’s just hang. Okay? 

Ps. The dude is actually and oddly enough someone you’ve heard of before…  I’ll give you a hint… the way we met involves a crack head, an exploded bottle of sprite, and getting hit in the face. (Hint over, just read the story here).