What Harry Potter Can Teach Us About the 2016 Election

During the 2016 election, a lot of people compared Donald Trump to Voldemort. It’s an easy comparison; a power hungry, evil man seeks to blame everything wrong in the world on marginalized groups. It makes sense. Even J.K. Rowling weighed in on the comparison tweeting:


After it was announced that Donald J. Trump would become the next President of the United States of America (even typing that makes me want to barf), I did what I always do. I clung to Harry Potter as a comfort and a hope. I even posted this picture no more than 12 hours after the results were announced:

Now that I’ve sat with the results for a few days, I have come to the realization that Donald Trump is not in fact Voldemort. Voldemort is the racist, sexist, homophobic, and ableist underbelly of our great nation. Voldemort is the collection of all of the absolute worst parts of our country.

So what does that make Donald Trump? Hear me out when I say that Donald Trump is in fact Pius Thicknesse. Thicknesse became Minister of Magic after the Ministry fell to Voldemort: killing Scrimgeour and ushering in a Death Eater reign of terror. It should be noted that while he served as Minister, Thicknesse was under the Imperius Curse. For those who don’t know, the Imperius Curse is one of the three Unforgivable Curses in the wizarding world. Casting the Imperius Curse on a person causes the caster to have complete control over the victim: physically and mentally. Only those with exceptional strength and will can resist it. In the book, Harry Potter is one of the only wizards we see resist it. So, I argue that Donald Trump is in fact Pius Thicknesse. He is puppet to all of the hate, racism, sexism etc (Voldemort). He gets the title of President (or Minister of Magic) to serve and perpetuate the ideas of Voldemort.

So, going down the line, what does that make Mike Pence? He is absolutely Dolores Umbridge. He is an evil toad hellbent on maintaining order under the pretense that it’s “for the greater good”. He serves at the right hand of the evil, furthering it’s agenda. Upon first glance, he seems like a reasonable, albeit, stuck up person. But give him a chance and his true sinister agenda will show. And the more you fight against it, the more furiously he clings to it.

So that brings us to Lucius Malfoy, or as we should know him in this post: Paul Ryan. Tiptoeing between outwardly supporting Voldemort and maintaining the facade of a reasonable asshole. Do not be fooled by Lucius Malfoy. He appeared to be chummy with Cornelius Fudge when he was Minister of Magic, but we know that all the while, he was merely canvassing the ministry for Voldemort.

John Kasich, Mitt Romney, and Jeb Bush are the Regulus Blacks of the world. They were in the thick of it for a long time but when push came to shove, they couldn’t do it. They couldn’t endorse or be a part of the evil. So they stepped away and fought as best as they could. You may have your problems with Regulus Black (he wasn’t as kind to Sirius as he could have been, he was a Death Eater) but at the end of the day, you have to respect his courage to recognize he was in a terrible situation and he did what he could to fight against it.

Chris Christie is Peter Pettigrew. Nothing else needs to be said about him.

So, enough about the bad guys. Let’s move onto the good, shall we? Obviously, Bernie Sanders is Dumbledore. Hated by the establishment, he always tried to do what he thought was best. Fighting for people who may not always have a champion. Disagreeing with Fudge on a number of things, but coming together when absolutely necessary. A devoted group of followers willing to support and follow him at every turn. However, Dumbledore was sacrificed. Good does not always triumph. But we can always hold hope and carry the ideals that Bernie/Albus left us with. Those we love never really leave us, do they?

It gets a little stickier comparing Hillary Clinton as McGonagall. Clinton and Sanders did not have the Dumbledore/McGonagall relationship by any means, but I do think Clinton has a number of similarities with McGongall. A tough badass who doesn’t take shit from anyone. A woman who may seem cold and distant to outsiders, but upon further inspection, is warm and kind. A woman who didn’t leave Hogwarts when it fell to the Death Eaters but instead stayed to fight and protect those who were threatened most by the regime. Remember when Trump called Clinton a “nasty woman” and kept interrupting her during the debates? Now remember Amycus Carrow spitting in McGonagall’s face? Gives you the same feeling, doesn’t it?

So now, here we are. At the Battle of Hogwarts. The bad guys have taken over and we need to fight. We need to take back what’s ours and what’s right. The Battle of Hogwarts wasn’t won by just Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It was won by the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore’s Army, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and yes, evening some Slytherins, coming together to fight the good fight. Differences in house didn’t matter. There was a greater enemy that needed to be vanquished.

I see the people who voted for Trump as the Slytherin students at the Battle of Hogwarts. Trump just appointed a known white nationalist and anti-Semite as House Strategist. You now have a choice, like those students did. You can join the Death Eaters and further the hate and damage done to our country (Hogwarts). You could simply not participate and only look after your own self interests (the Malfoys). Or, you could recognize the error of your ways and ultimately join the fight for what is right and what is good. Horace Slughorn was a Slytherin professor who first taught Voldemort about Horcruxes. One could argue that he was instrumental in the second rise of Voldemort. However, after all was said and done, Horace realized the error of his actions. He felt such immense guilt over what he did that it tore him apart. Upon this realization, he did all he could to fight back against Voldemort; including leading some Slythering students to fight against Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts.

You voted for Trump. You had your reasons. But now, I implore you, realize the consequences of your actions. Realize the part you played in bringing the monster to the forefront. But I beg you, now do everything you can to stop it.

If you voted for McGonagall or Dumbledore and now aren’t sure what to do, I recommend supporting the Harrys, Rons, and Hermiones of the world. There’s no better comparison to Hermione Granger than Elizabeth Warren. Or Kamala Harris. I plan on doing everything I can to get a Hermione Granger in the White House. And I think it goes without saying that Joe Biden is absolutely Ron Weasley.

Remember when Harry and Hermione go back to Godric’s Hallow in The Deathly Hallows and Harry sees all the words of encouragement from strangers carved into the fence by his parents house? Be those strangers for the Harrys, Rons, and Hermiones. Show the world that we’re on the right side. Show the world that Voldemort will never win.

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

How My Mom Became a Hillary Supporter and Other Thoughts

When I first sat down to write this morning, I planned on writing a post about becoming a late in life basketball fan. I was going to write about how much Klay Thompson, Steph Curry, and Andre Iguodala mean to me. But that can wait. That’s not what is important right now.

What’s important right now is Tuesday. On Tuesday, our country will decide who the next leader of the free world is going to be. If you’re reading this and you’re planing to vote for Hillary: hi! I like you. If you’re reading this and you’re planning to vote for Trump: um, hey. Are you okay? If you’re reading this and you’re undecided: Oye. You need to get your house in order and choose.

When it was announced that Hillary Clinton would be running for President, my hype was real. I even wrote a post about how excited I was to vote for the first female President of the United States. I dontated $3 (I’m poor, okay?!) to her campaign that very day. Then along came Bernie Sanders. My hype train switched rails and I was all in on Bernie. Then, our dude lost, and my hype train lost a bit of steam. “Ah, shit”, I thought watching Bernie’s concession in the kitchen of my Mom’s house in Michigan. But, I licked my wounds, and got behind Hillary. Because that’s what Bernie wants me to do and because I believe she will be a great President.

Our house has always been somewhat politically divided. My step-dad, Randal, has always been a far leaning liberal. When Obama first came on the scene, I’m pretty sure all of Randal’s Christmas gifts that year were Obama themed. I got him a calendar. A few years before that for Christmas, I got Randal “An Inconvenient Truth” on DVD. My Mom on the other hand, has had a tendency to lean Republican. She usually votes for a person more than a party. Randal and I tried desperately to get her on the Bernie train. Our family group texts were filled with pro-Bernie links, begging she and my brother to get onboard. When Kasich dropped out, she wasn’t sure what to do until one morning, on that trip home, I came groggily downstairs in search of coffee.

“Have you seen?!” she attacked me before I even entered the kitchen.

“What?” I said, probably still half asleep.

“Have you looked?! Did you know?!” She said, her volume raising. She was fuming with the righteous Mom anger that is only brought out for very specific circumstances.

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

Then her volume lowered but didn’t lose any of it’s fervor. “Have you seen what that man’s children do for FUN?!”

“Wha–” I was trying to rack my brain. What man? What children?

“There are pictures of Donald Trump’s children on one of those hunting trips in Africa holding a dead cheetah and elephants!!!” She paced around our living room; holding her phone. Her disgust could probably be felt within a 100 mile radius of our house.

“Oh. Yeah. I saw those a few months ago.” I stood on a stool in the kitchen finally pouring myself a cup of coffee.

“That is HORRIBLE. What kind of person does that? They think that makes them manly?! Shooting innocent animals for fun?! How DARE they. You want to be a real man?! Yeah, go to Africa without a gun and try and kill one of those animals for fun. Let’s see you do that.”

I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. My mom has always had a bleeding heart for animals. In her life, she’s probably rescued 10 cats, adopted a dolphin in Florida, and let my dog come live with her when my life in LA proved to be too hectic for him to stay here.

“RANDAL!” she yelled to my step-dad who had just come back into the house. “For the first time, we’re voting for the same candidate!!!”

She exited to our basement to get laundry and Randal looked at me puzzled. “She saw the pictures of Trump’s kids in Africa with the dead animals.”

“Oh.” Randal and I smiled at each other. We got her.

That’s how easy it was. All it took was one offense against something my mom truly cared about to convince her that she could never vote for that man. I’m sure, if she hadn’t seen those pictures, something else would have convinced her. Maybe it would have been Trump mocking the disabled reporter since she is the mother of two disabled children. Maybe it would have been when Trump called Alicia Machado “Miss Piggy” since my Mom is a woman who cares about other women. Maybe it would have been Mike Pence trying to jail gay men who try to obtain marriage licenses since my Mom has always been a supporter of the gay community. Maybe it would have been this or maybe it would have been that. I do not have time to list all of the horrible and vile things those men have said and done.

So, if you are still planning on voting for Trump, it tells me that you have listened and read all of those horrible things and none of them matter to you. As a woman, someone who is differently abled, an LGBTQ ally, and all around somewhat decent person; that hurts me. It truly does. I am so sorry if you are so unhappy with your life right now that you think a billionaire (maybe? where his taxes at?) can solve your problems. I truly am. You are willing to let a racist, ableist, narcissist with NO PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE be our President.

I love unresolved murders and mysteries. I listen to at least 4 different podcasts, I read all I can on them, I am an avid lurker on r/UnresolvedMysteries. I think I have a pretty good hold on how cases operate, what goes wrong, and how evidence should be handled. But keep in mind, I am an actress with a Theatre and Creative Writing degree. Let’s say your brother or sister goes missing. You are worried and don’t know what to do but you have a choice: you can go to the police and detectives who have YEARS of experience with these kinds of cases or you can come to me. Who would you rather let handle this case?

That’s not a strong example but it’s what I can think of. Yes, there are some corrupt detectives, but there’s also an entire group of people around to keep them in check. Or you can let me, a girl with no previous experience who loves to be the center of attention try and solve the case. Why is it that hard to see the right answer?

You can have your problems with Hillary. One candidate will never be able to represent every individual accurately. But what I don’t understand is how you can excuse the behavior of Trump and Pence. You are spitting in the face of immigrants, LGBTQ people, women, disabled people, veterans, etc. I am begging you. Show those groups and the rest of the world that we, as a nation, are on the right side of herstory.


Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

On the “M Word”

For whatever reason lately, the word “midget” has been cropping up all over the place. I feel like we had a good year where I didn’t hear it as often (once SNL’s “Stefon” skit was off the air) and I thought we were finally making some progress. Nope.

Every time the word comes up, little people (and average height advocates) like to say “Oh, it’s like the N word for little people”. First of all, let me start off by saying No. It is absolutely not. The N word has a violent, horrible history. The mere fact that I can write “midget” and not write the N word should prove that. (A point that will be reiterated further down). But I understand the desire to equate the “M word” with something. People need a way to explain what that word means to us and why it’s so hurtful to use.

I have a 27 year history with “the M word” and I am here to tell you that I have never once heard the word used in a positive light.

Whispers from children when I would run errands with my parents. “Oh look, it’s a whole family of midgets.” “Oh look at her, she’s a midget.”

When I was in elementary school, kids would taunt my friends and family with it. My cousin, Brittany, probably got the brunt of it or at least, she’s the only one who would tell me about it. “Oh, your cousin is a midget!” they’d say to her on the playground. This was always met with righteous anger from Brittany. “No, they’re dwarfs!! Don’t call them that!”

In Middle School, we read a poem in my sixth grade English class. It was about a carnival. I can’t tell you who wrote it or what the title was but I will never forget that the author used the word “midget”. My cheeks flushed red as everyone turned to me when the line was read out loud to see how I’d react. The teacher called me to her desk after class to see if I was okay. I remember quickly dismissing it and saying “I’m fine, no really, it’s okay.” But wondering to myself “If she knew that line was in the poem, why did she make us read it? Why did we have to read it out loud?”

In high school, when I would watch stand-up comedy specials with friends, I would always brace for the inevitable. There was always a chance that a comedian would make a little person joke and nine times out of ten, they would never use the word “little person”. Once again, I was back in sixth grade as my cheeks flushed and everyone looked at me. But I got faster; more resilient. I would feign extreme anger, pretend to flip a table, and walk out of the room.

As my love for musical theatre grew, I accepted The Last Five Years as a new favorite. There’s a line in “Summer in Ohio” where Cathy sings about performing with a “gay midget named Carl”. It is still to this day, in my top 5 favorite musicals, but I have to choose to love it in spite of the fact that it uses that word. Two years ago, a movie came out of the musical. I went to the theatre hoping that maybe, just maybe, they had changed the word since the movie would obviously be getting a much larger release. Nope.

John Mulaney is my favorite stand-up comedian but he has an entire bit in his special “The Top Part” about little people, using “the M word” and how it’s not as bad as the “N word”. Here’s the transcript:

“I was writing for an awards show once and I got into some trouble. I wrote a joke for this awards show that had the word “midget” in it. And someone from the network came down to our offices and he said to me ‘hey, you can’t put the word midget on TV’ and I said ‘I sure would like to’. And he said “No, midget is as bad as ‘The N Word’.’ First off, no. No it’s not. ‘Do you know how I know it’s not?’ I said to him, ‘because we’re saying the word ‘midget’ and we’re not even saying what ‘the N word’ is. If you’re comparing the badness of two words and you won’t even say one of them? That’s the worse word.” Also I don’t mean to gloss over what little people have been through in this country but you cannot compare the plight of midgets to African Americans. That is outrageous. Midgets were never enslaved unless you count the Wonka factory. So we get into this argument and we’re going back and forth and he says ‘you can’t put the M word on TV’ and I say ‘but I want to!” and he says ‘if you put that word on TV, there could be a protest of midgets on this building’ and I said ‘promise?'”

In college, an anonymous chat board was started about me. Saying how ugly I was and how all “the M words” needed to be purged and killed. They mocked my boyfriend at the time, saying that he must have some kind of fetish. People saying they were scared of me and didn’t like seeing me with my “bug eyes” at parties.

On Orange is the New Black this season, Morello (I believe) used “the M word” when talking about the munchkins in The Wizard of Oz. Instead of using it as a teaching moment, they simply let her use that word and move on. It should be noted that later in the season, a character uses the word “retard” and is told that that word is verboten.

I was crossing the street mere months ago, when a bicyclist rode by. “Look out, midget!” he yelled at me. Friends tell me stories all the time about people they meet using “the M word” and the fights they get into about it. They’ll try to correct someone’s behavior and the user of the word will argue with them about it. “Oh no, they like to be called that.” “It doesn’t matter what they want to be called, I was told it was ‘the M word'”.

Most recently, Rob Lowe used the “M word” when speaking at a function. I don’t have all the details, but apparently, someone tried to correct him and he didn’t listen. He continued on to say “hey, there’s always a place for you in Hollywood!” Mr. Lowe also had Ann Coulter speak at his Comedy Central Roast, so obviously, his judgement is flawed to say the least.

So cue up the Natalie Imbruglia, because I am TORN. These shows and people that I love continue to use a word I hate. These people I admire and look up to seem to only see me as a punchline. Do I continue to support them or do I protest them for their ignorance? I feel like once I start protesting, I’ll have nothing left to watch.

I ask you, can you look at all the ways that word has been used and still tell me that it’s not offensive? It’s used to demean. It’s used to separate us and treat us as oddities or objects….as freaks. And maybe I sound like a broken record, but I beg you, insert any other minority in my place. Would any of the above be considered even remotely acceptable? Little people are one of the last acceptable minority groups to be mocked. Oh, isn’t it just so hilarious that we’re not tall?

And whenever this debate comes up, people love to say things like “you are the one giving the word the power.””Take it back and own it so it can no longer hurt you”. I discussed this point with my friend, Bridget, yesterday. She said “Yes, but do the people who say things like that realize that words are the very foundation on which our society is built? No one other than you gets to decide when they can or cannot hurt.” My other friend, Nick, brought up a similar point when I discussed this with him. He said “Yes, okay, in an ideal world, that would happen. But we’re not there yet. The verboten words like “the N word” and “The [gay] F word” can be taken back by the groups that own them because we (as a society) have been taught of the damage that those words can do. We’re not there yet with “the M word” because people are still saying it so casually. We’re years behind being able to “take it back”.”

How do we combat this? How do we force a world that is hellbent on demeaning us to accept us as humans? In our actions. Cast little people in TV shows and in movies. NOT ONLY IN REALITY SHOWS. We are not your inspiration porn. Give us a narrative. Let comedians know that someone’s disability is not a punchline. Stop supporting places that are determined to keep us down like “Beachers Mad House”.

If someone uses “the M word” around you, try and have a dialogue with them. Be patient. I’ll be the first one to tell you that the patience part is the most difficult. If anyone ever uses a slur to demean a friend of mine, I get filled with a white hot rage that only tells me to kill them. So yes, the patience is hard, but possible. And if they still try to argue with you after you’ve corrected them, give me a call and put me on the phone with them. I’ll do the yelling.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Why Hamilton Gives Me Hope for My Future

Ask anyone who has spoken to me the last five months about what I’ve been up to and the first thing out of their mouths is liable to be “Hamilton”. The second thing will probably be “I don’t know, eating? Ask her yourself”. Between the soundtrack dropping, starting a Hamilton centered Twitter account, and seeing the show, I have been ALL ABOUT the ten dollar founding father.  

Hamilton stage door my first day in New York.


In case you haven’t spoken to me in the last few months, allow me to give a brief summary: Hamilton is a new Broadway show about the life of the founding father, Alexander Hamilton. Written and starring Lin-Manuel Miranda (In the Heights), the show blends hip-hop and show tunes seamlessly while actually providing a pretty good history class. The show is groundbreaking for a number of reasons. The sheer density of lyrics and information it spits at you in almost three hours is dizzying. The show is an INSANE success with movie stars, Obama, and yours truly flocking to see it.

Daveed Diggs (Thomas Jefferson) and Lin-Manuel Miranda (Alexander Hamilton)

But what has stuck with me the most since learning of the show is the fact that Lin (I call him by his first name because we’re OBVIOUSLY BEST FRIENDS) chose to cast all people of color with King George being the only character played by a white guy.

“Miranda said that the portrayal of Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, and other caucasian historical figures by black and Hispanic actors should not require any substantial suspension of disbelief by audience members. “Our cast looks like America looks now, and that’s certainly intentional,” he said. “It’s a way of pulling you into the story and allowing you to leave whatever cultural baggage you have about the founding fathers at the door.” He noted “We’re telling the story of old, dead white men but we’re using actors of color, and that makes the story more immediate and more accessible to a contemporary audience.””

The leading men of Hamilton: Leslie Odom Jr., Javier Muñoz, Anthony Ramos, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Oak Onaodowan, Daveed Diggs, and Chris Jackson

This show is a perfect example of why diversity matters. Why representation matters. And why things like race, sexual orientation, gender, height, etc. SHOULDN’T matter.


The Schuyler Sisters: Phillipa Soo (Eliza), Reneé Elise Goldsberry (Angelica), and Jasmine Cephas Jones (Peggy)


Hamilton has proven that fact with every single cast member. Daveed Diggs, a phenomenal black actor, singer, and rapper, plays Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson. And he absolutely murders the part. When he comes onstage, you never for one second think “oh, that’s so weird Jefferson is black” you think “HOLY SHIT, where has this guy been?! I like when he smiles! HOLD UP, is he rapping in a French accent?!” When Reneé Elise Goldsberry sings “and when I meet Thomas Jefferson, I’mma compel him to include women in the sequel” it carries more weight. Because even if, historically, Angelica Schuyler Church was white, those words carry more weight coming from a powerful woman of color. In a recent Ham4Ham show, the ladies of Hamilton performed “My Shot”, proving that it wasn’t only men who could could kill these parts.  

Daveed as Thomas Jefferson


Reneé as Angelica Schuyler


Since Hamilton hit, I’ve had so many people come up to me and say “wait, so it’s about the founding fathers but everyone is black?” And then I take a second and think to myself “oh, here we go, I’m going to have to defend this to an undercover racist”. But, people surprise me. I explain Lin’s reasoning for the casting and why it works. And 98% of the people I talk to have an overwhelmingly positive response about it. “Oh, that sounds so awesome! Makes sense!” And then the race element of the show is forgotten about. (Usually because I get way too excited and start yelling in their face. “I HAVE IT HERE ON MY PHONE DO YOU WANNA LISTEN TO IT?! MY FAVORITE SONGS ARE SATISFIED, TAKE A BREAK, WAIT FOR IT, WHAT’D I MISS. AND CAN I TALK TO YOU ABOUT ANTHONY RAMOS?! I CAN SING THE WHOLE THING FOR YOU IF YOU WANT, WHY ARE YOU WALKING AWAY?!!!”)

Hamilton has given me so much. It’s given me 17.8k Twitter followers (@hamiltonssquad NBD). It’s given me hours of joy and entertainment. It’s given me a chance to meet and thank the cast personally. 


Lin said I was “the funniest motherfucker on the internet” and my soul left my body for a few minutes.


I’m a very lucky girl. Special shoutout to Oak for getting me backstage after the show.


But you know what Hamilton has given me more than anything else?
Hope. It has given me hope. It proves to me that the tides are turning. It shows me that people are willing to accept casting choices that they may not have initially expected. They’re willing to get onboard with a George Washington who doesn’t look like the old man on our money. But, to be fair, I’d much prefer to look at Chris Jackson for three hours.


The reason I care so much about what people are willing to accept is because I’ve been told all my life that I may be one of those things people won’t accept on their screens or onstage. I’m a little person. I’m 4’2″ with achondroplasia dwarfism. I currently live in LA where I’m pursuing acting. Most recently, I was Frieda Ovitz in the off-Broadway production of The Lilliput Troupe in New York City. Again, no big deal, STOP ASKING ME FOR AUTOGRAPHS.

I am very poised and natural and sexy.




I’ve been told all my life that I couldn’t play certain parts because of my height. When I wanted to audition for West Side Story, I knew immediately that I had a much better chance of playing Anybodys than I did Anita or Maria. I wanted Anita but knew that it would be “funnier” if I was the sidekick. When I was in high-school, I was told that I couldn’t compete with my show choir because “it would look weird to have a little person dancing up there”. And for a long time, I believed all of it. It seems silly but I had nothing to prove these people or thoughts wrong. There were no little people on TV or on Broadway who were playing anything but a punchline. Peter Dinklage has managed to break through, but he’s the first to be taken seriously. And he’s only one man. 



So you can see why this show is so important to me. Because it proves what I’ve always known. We don’t have to stick to the status quo. America is different now; it’s changing. People are willing to accept a female Jedi, a black Hermione, and a deaf production of Spring Awakening. They’ll accept a Latino Alexander Hamilton and a black Stormtrooper. They just have to be given the chance to accept it. Or we have a responsibility to shove change and progress down their throats. Either way, it’s happening.

So, I have faith that the time will come when America will accept a female little person playing the lead on a sitcom or Mrs. Lovett on Broadway. That time will come and ya know what? I am not throwing away my shot.


Posted in Uncategorized | 9 Comments

A Letter to 2012 Hollis

Hi kid!

So you’re moving to LA today!! Are you scared? Obviously, I already know the answer to that but, I feel that it’s polite to ask. How’s Mom doing?

imageI’m writing you from 2015. I know that doesn’t seem very far away and it may seem a little didactic but I feel like I have a few things I want you to remember over the next 3 years. Now, the whole “butterfly effect” thing terrifies me, so I’m not going to be too specific. Plus, ya know, spoilers. I’ve had some experiences that I would rather chop off my left wrist than lose, so try not to change too much. These 3 years are going to go by so fast. It’s really important to try and remember the following. Hopefully these will make you feel a little better about what’s to come.

Remember why you’re leaving

The Golden Globes were like a week ago for you, right?? And Peter Dinklage just won Best Supporting Actor? Remember how you were packing when you watched it and immediately started crying when they announced his name? Remember that feeling. Remember why you love acting. Remember that every dream anyone has ever had is a pipe dream until it’s executed. In about 6 months, some days are going to come where you will think you would be okay with leaving LA and pursuing something else. You would not be. In fact, you will fight tooth and nail to stay there. You will require help from everyone and they will give it to you. Appreciate it.

Let It Go

A movie is going to come out in a few years and you’ll get that reference. Download that album immediately. But more importantly, you have to learn to let some things go. I look at you in that picture and I can already see all of the things you won’t let go. That necklace, those earrings, even that cup. They’re just objects to everyone else, but you and I see something else; we see the person who gave them to you. You’re going to have to let them all go. You’ll decide when you’re ready. There will be days you will think you can’t and that you never will and the tears will come and you won’t be able to get out of bed. I see that girl and all I want to do is give her a hug. But so many better things and experiences are on their way, I promise.

Invest in bitcoin.

Just…trust me on this.

Eat with Mia whenever you can but maybe, avoid Ernie’s your second night there.


You know Mia. You’ve known her since 2nd grade. Sure, you guys grew apart in high school and college, but then you were on Oz together and that can’t be a coincidence, right? She will become like another limb to you. She understands you and is patient with you and calls you out on your bullshit. Some of your happiest memories will be sitting in bed with her, eating and doing nothing. George had Jerry and Rachel had Monica. No one can last very long alone in a big city. But back to the Ernie’s thing…just because a restaurant has a good happy hour deal, that doesn’t mean that they won’t give you food poisoning. I don’t think it’ll butterfly effect too much if you don’t spend the night vomiting.


You’re going to cry in public and you’re going to cry in public often. 

Your car will break down multiple times. You won’t be able to afford a lot of repairs. You will cry on the phone with your mom on Ventura Boulevard when you realize this. Boys will hurt your heart and you’ll cry. You’ll cry in the drive thru line at Jack in the Box. You’ll cry when you call Kerri at 3 AM because of said boys. You’ll cry in your car on Hollywood and Highland to the Les Mis soundtrack and a group of Asian tourists will wave to you. It’s better to just let it out whenever you need to. Plus it will help you learn to not care what people think as much! Win/win!

Be patient

I know we like to Veruca Salt “I want it now!” a lot of situations. But, baby girl, you have got to learn to be patient. I like to think LA traffic will help you develop this, but it’s doubtful. Things you want right now are coming to you but not in the way you always think. Just hold on.

Write that blog

I know you’re going to write it no matter what because you don’t like it when people are assholes and tell you you’re wrong and dammit, people need to hear what you think! But days will come when you might regret it. You’ll wonder if things would be easier if you had just kept your mouth shut. I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you that nothing is wrong with standing up for yourself and standing up for what you believe in. Sorry that last sentence was so cheesey.

Start watching Doctor Who now.


Listen to Chris


You know how you were crying really hard, like embarrassingly hard, exactly a month ago when Oz wrapped and Chris left to go back to LA and you thought you would never see him again? And he told you that you were being ridiculous? He was right. He’ll be right about more. And he won’t let you forget it. It’s a pain. But after you get through all that, one day you will look up and realize he’s one of your best friends. He’ll teach you a lot and take care of you. Be grateful every day that you have him in your life and he doesn’t get too annoyed when you sing Fall Out Boy or musical theatre. Also, no matter how hard you try, he will never watch Parks and Rec. Sorry.

Go to the bar when Chris invites you your second night there


It’s the same night you get food poisoning, but that won’t set in until you get home. GOOD GOD, IF YOU DO NOTHING ELSE, GO TO THIS. You’ll meet James that night. He’s important to you. Remember that night. And a few weeks after that, at that same bar, you’ll meet Mark and Gil. At the risk of butterfly effecting again, just know that those 4 boys will become your family. The girl in the picture comes in a little later. Her name is Claudia. You’ll like her.

Don’t go to the hospital your first anniversary there

Listen. You and I both know how clumsy we are. It happens. On your first anniversary of living in LA, you’re going to fall off a barstool and bust open your chin…..even though you’re sober. Since I’ve told you this, you may want to avoid it, but don’t. You’ll be there with Chris and Mark. You’ll bleed everywhere and get a concussion. The boys will try and take you to the hospital, but your concussed brain prevents it. Because of that, you’re going to end up with a big scar on your chin. You’ll hate that it shows up in pictures and on camera but, also a part of you will love it. You’ll love it because you know no matter what happens, for the rest of your life, you’ll have that scar and it will remind you of your boys and LA and that you made it here at least a year.


So you’re probably really annoyed at how long this is, but we’ve never been brief, have we 2012 Hollis? Good luck, today. I promise not all of LA looks like the bad parts of Koreatown you see when you follow Mia home tonight.

I love you and you’re going to be great. You’ve made it this far.


Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

My Insane Christmas List

Every year since I can remember, I have always known what I’ve wanted for Christmas. One year it was a puppy (check), then American Girl Dolls (specifically Molly, c’mon, don’t waste my time) (check), then Bath and Body Works roll-on glitter and lip gloss (check and check), then a cell phone (check, KRZR, bitches) and so on and so forth. I’ve never been one of those people who has trouble coming up with things they need or want. Selfish? Sure. Greedy? Maybe. But come on!! It’s not a crime for a girl to know what she wants in life! As the years go on though, I have found my Christmas list has become less and less about material goods. This year, I actually had a hard time thinking of things when family asked me what I wanted. “Um, a sweater from Urban Outfitters and Guardians of the Galaxy on DVD, I guess?” is what I believe I actually said. Things like being able to fly home for Christmas to see family and friends has taken precedence over roll-on glitter. Who knew this day would come?!

So I began to think. What if Santa was real? In movies and TV shows, they seem to make Santa this omniscient being who has unlimited power and abilities. Seriously. Watch any tv show where they flirt with the idea that Santa might be real. They let him pull off the most insane presents and gestures. I’m looking at you, Rugrats Christmas Special and The Santa Clause. Well, alright then, fat man! If you are listening, I have some requests. Settle in, this may take a minute.

Separate idea for a blog post: Was I weirdly attracted to or repulsed by Bernard the Elf in The Santa Clause?

5. Definitively know my Hogwarts house and Patronus

It’s no secret how much I love the world of Harry Potter. Santa, you should know this by now because one year, you gave me Harry, Ron, and Hermione action figures as well as a package of Bertie Bott’s every flavor jelly beans. So this year, I would like you to definitively, 100%, no questions asked, figure out what house I would be in if I had gone to Hogwarts.

I wore this to my real life, actual job the day the final Harry Potter movie came out in 2011. WHAT A LOSER….SAID NO ONE, I AM AWESOME.

I’ve always believed I would be a Gryffindor for a number of reasons and not just because “it’s the one Harry was in”. First of all, any chump would know that I would want to be in whatever house Ron Weasley was in and secondly, I don’t belong anywhere else. I’m witty, but I don’t value it enough to be placed in Ravenclaw. I can be manipulative if I want to be, but I’m not ambition hungry enough to be in Slytherin. And I’d be too busy making fun of Hufflepuffs to actually be sorted there, so, we’re obviously left with Gryffindor. I took the Pottermore quiz the minute it was available for beta testing and was placed in Gryffindor, but that’s an internet quiz. Not that I don’t place value on it, I just want a real answer.



While we’re on it, I would also really like to know what my Patronus would be. To fully understand what a Patronus is, we look to the Harry Potter wiki:

“This ancient and mysterious charm conjures a magical guardian, a projection of all your most positive feelings. The Patronus Charm is difficult, and many witches and wizards are unable to produce a full, corporeal Patronus, a guardian which generally takes the shape of the animal with whom they share the deepest affinity. You may suspect, but you will never truly know what form your Patronus will take until you succeed in conjuring it.

So. There’s the rub, Santa. I can’t really know what my Patronus would be until I conjure it (or until JK Rowling decides). I have a theory that it would be a small dog who barks a lot for it’s size and believes itself to be much bigger than it actually is. But, alas, that is only a theory.

4. A Rap Duet (Collab?) with Childish Gambino

Aside from Fall Out Boy and musical theater, rap and hip/hop music is truly “my jam”. I believe I officially got on the train in 6th grade when for my birthday, I asked Eddie to burn me a Snoop Dogg mix CD. Why Snoop Dogg? I have no idea. I thought he seemed clever. You would think living so close to Detroit that my first real experience with rap would have come from Eminem but nope! Not this weirdo! Eddie burned me the CD and I just went from there. I (and probably millions of other people) have always thought the coolest part of rap is when the artist can layer the lyrics so perfectly together and go a completely different direction than you thought they would. In the last few years, no one has done this better than Childish Gambino aka the actor from Community, Donald Glover.

Let’s take a closer look at a few of his lyrics to really see how clever he is, shall we? I would copy and paste whole songs of his here if I could, but I don’t know if any of you punk-ass bitches could handle his dope rhymes! (Also my mom would probably yell at me because of all the swear words). From the first song of his that I ever heard of his, Freaks and Geeks:

“This beat is a disaster, 9/11 this track
Rappers wanna battle me, I have to mail their heads back
And my clique make that dinero, so it’s time to meet the f*ckers
I am runnin’ this bitch, you are just a dog walker”

I realize it’s not Shakespeare, but it’s pretty freakin’ great. For as long as I have loved rap, I have taken it on myself to do my best to learn every single detail of every word in each song I like. I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe that someday, someone will see me on the street and say “Hi there! You really look like someone who knows every word to the Lil Wayne/Eminem song ‘Drop the World’. May I hear you rap it for me???” Then I drop whatever I’m doing and FLAWLESSLY rap the entire song. Then the stranger says “Wow, that was amazing! Would you like to meet Drake??? He’s a close, personal friend of mine and he was telling me the other day that he would like to meet a beautiful little person girl and marry her!” And then Drake and I live happily ever after! THAT’S WHAT IS AT STAKE HERE, PEOPLE.


This could be Drake and I on our honeymoon. He’s obvi obsessed with me.

But, I digress. For my next wish, Santa, I would like to perform on a rap track with Childish Gambino. I already know how you can make this happen. Pretty much every time I go out to karaoke with friends, I rap. I love singing but I just feel more confident expressing myself through a fast-talking male perspective. So here’s how we do it: I go out with friends and somehow end up rapping Childish Gambino’s Sweatpants onstage. Someone in audience knows Donald/Childish. They record me, they show it to him, he’s CRAZY impressed, demands to meet me, we hit it off, bada-bing-bada-boom, I’m on his next album. Simple.

3. To Never Have the Bottoms of My Pants Get Wet in the Rain.

 Santa, this one is on you. I have no idea how to accomplish this. I won’t wear shorts all the time and this has got to stop. I guess just get me 7 different pairs of boots that never let water in but aren’t rain boots?

2. To See Matt Smith Live in American Psycho

It is again no secret, Santa, that I love Doctor Who and Matt Smith. I’ve written about him a lot and you even had your proxy (my secret Santa and best friend, Mia) give me a Doctor Who necklace for Christmas this year.

He’s just the best!!

As you may or may not know, after Matt finished his run on Doctor Who, he went on to star as Patrick Bateman in the musical version of American Psycho in London. So one of my favorite actors playing the lead character from one of my favorite movies IN A MUSICAL?! YES PLEASE.

And the yuppie serial killer could not be a more different first role since leaving Doctor Who.

 Matt was only in the production from December 13-January 25 of 2013-2014 and NO ONE has uploaded a quality bootleg of his performance to YouTube yet! The music was done by Duncan Sheik who also did the music for another one of my favorite musicals, Spring Awakening. Really, Santa, this whole thing has my name written all over it. Obviously, I was unable to make it to London to see this at the time, so I would like you to figure out a way to revive the entire production including Matt, for at least one night, so I can see it. Thanks in advance!

The production runs at London's Ameida Theatre until January 25.

1. The Magical O-House

And finally, we arrive at the magical O-House. I’ll explain since no one except Kelly, Kerri, and Nick really know what the magical O-House is. Senior year of college, Kelly, Kerri, myself and 5 other girls lived in one of the Albion sanctioned houses called “The O-House”. It was a big, beautiful, white house with four bedrooms, a kitchen, dining and family room all on the second floor. They had all of that stuff on the first floor too, but we lived on the second so that’s what I’m familiar with. It was cramped for 8 girls.

This isn’t at the o-House, but look at those people! So cozy and lovely!

One day when I was quite homesick for Detroit, Kelly and I conjured up the idea of the magical O-House. It would basically be the exact house we lived in, but only Nick, Kelly, Kerri and I would live there. Sound magical yet? No? Just wait. Instead of having functioning closets in each room, our closet doors would actually lead to other cities in the world of our choosing. So my closet door would go to Los Angeles, Kelly’s would go to New York, Kerri’s would go to Boston, and Nick’s would go to wherever he decided. My vote is for Disney World or London. The actual house would live somewhere in Michigan. So, we could all live together and see each other all the time and then still continue our lives in the cities of our choosing. Kerri could still teach and Boston and I could still work, act, and bug my friends in LA. It is far and away the best idea we have ever had. Since Kerri got married, we decided that she and Mike can live on the first floor of the magical O-House. We know they’ll want their privacy and taking over the first floor means we get more closets to more cities. ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES!!

What follows are fun pictures of us in the real O-House (not magical):

248690_10150194020226891_7749407_n 227693_10150296559393206_7848822_n


Santa, I don’t know how you’re going to pull off the magical O-House but I need it to happen STAT. Just leave the keys to it in my stocking and I’ll put extra chocolate chips in the cookies this year. Seems like a fair trade.

Merry Christmas, Santa! I’d say see you soon, but I know the rules. I’ll be sleeping when you get here. Say what up to Prancer for me.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The 7 Friends You Need to Survive in This Life

My little sister, Carys, started sixth grade this year. “WHAT?! BUT SHE’S STILL A BABY!! I STILL DON’T BELIEVE SHE CAN ACTUALLY TALK! NOW SEND HER BACK TO HER CRIB AND TURN ON THE WIGGLES!” you may be saying (if you’re me). I know, growing up, just the worst. We’re all still trying to adjust. It’s a tough one.

And with 6th grade comes that lovely time when you’re forced to meet new people and make new friends. Again, just the worst. Carys is having a bit of a hard go at this. “How did Hollis do it?! She has friends! I don’t understand!” is actually she something she said to my mom after her first 6th Grade dance. Passing by the fact Carys doesn’t understand how I managed to make friends, I began to think about what she said and the friends I have. I thought about they are all individuals and what each of them have done for me and how much I love them. I thought about how not only am I lucky enough to have 1 best friend, I HAVE SEVEN. That’s a lot!! Think of it this way, it’s like 6 best friends PLUS ONE MORE! Or 4 best friends PLUS 3 MORE! I’ll let you do the rest of the math. I know I’ve waxed about my friends on my blog before but never have I truly WAXED POETIC about these people and how great they are.

So I’ve decided that in order to have a full group of best friends, you gotta reach the magical number 7 and they must all fit into one or more of the below categories. Sorry. Just the way it is.

The Brothers or The Ones Who Will Always Have Your Back

Now, I have an actual brother who fulfills all brotherly requirements and then some. He’s amazing and maybe someday, he’ll get his own separate blog post, but this is about my friends, dammit!


Ok, now, I consider myself a feminist and like to really try, like try so, so hard to be independent but sometimes I just can’t. Enter Mark and Gil. There are some things that I’ll never be able to do. Change a flat tire. Haggle with car people about car stuff. Intimidate men who hit on my friends inappropriately. Ok, maybe I can attempt to do that last part, but not very well. I consider all of my best friends family and I truly consider Mark and Gil brothers. I could tell you the story about how my car had a flat tire yesterday and the boys came over and helped me and followed me to the tire place and stayed with me until everything was taken care of…but that’s boring. INSTEAD! Let me tell you the story about when a random guy thought I was a hooker in Vegas and we almost got kicked out of the Bellagio the night before Mark’s wedding!

So I’m standing with Chris, we’re minding our biz, when out of nowhere this dude walks up to Chris:

Dude: How much for her?

Chris: I’m sorry?

Dude: How much for the girl? How much did you pay? I have $6,000. I can pay for her.

Chris takes a beat.

Chris: You could have approached this so much better, man and now you really need to walk away. She’s not a hooker. You need to leave.

Dude keeps insisting. At this moment, I decide to walk away cause you know what, I’m good. I don’t need to hear anymore. Mark and Gil see me walking away from the situation shaking my head. I fill them in and then next thing I know, they’re walking up to Dude and Chris. Mark puts his arm around the guy and says the following:

Mark: Hey, we don’t want to start anything but there’s a bunch of guys back there who will kick your ass. So I’m going to count to three and you need to walk away. One.

Dude: I swear I’ll pay for her.

Mark: Two.

Dude: I just want to [expletive] the midget.

Now, I don’t witness my friends go black in the eyes very often. James will get hot about things every once in a while, Chris has Zeus-like road rage, But at that moment, there was a flash and then it was just black in all of their eyes. Mark cocks his arm back to knock this guy in the face THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS WEDDING and I’m just sitting going “oh no, oh god, oh no” but before any of us can stop him, Gil comes out of nowhere! Gil throws Mark out of the way to punch the guy himself but Claudia (the bride THE NIGHT BEFORE HER WEDDING) grabs Gil and yanks him back. Chris harshly escorts the guy away and then we have to explain to security why my friends were trying to fight this sleazeball the size of Nevada. They understood.


As I’ve mentioned, I’m a feminist. I think I’m truly capable of handling myself with Beyonce-like dignity. But sometimes, as a girl alone in a big city, it feels really nice to know that you have boys who will have your back no matter what. Even if it’s the night before their wedding.

The Uplifter or The One Who Doesn’t Let You Get Away With Anything

If you’re like me (ya know, human) you’ve had times in your life when you look in the mirror and you just loathe what you see. Not necessairily physically what you see but just the person that you are. You think you’re worthless, a piece of human garbage, unworthy of love or all of the above. It sucks.


I’m here to tell you that if you have ever had thoughts like that, it’s MANDATORY for you to have a James in your life. James won’t let you think those things. In fact, he will scream at you if you have those thoughts. When I say scream, you’re probably thinking “Ha Ha Ha, he probably just passionately talks to her and she’s exaggerating.” I. Am. Not. Let me paint a picture for you:


Anyway, one day, James and I decided to go on a hike. I left a bunch of stuff like keys and my wallet in the car and went on my way with Jimothy. Little did we know, while we were hiking, a lovely human was breaking James’s car window and stealing stuff. We got back to the car, get appropriately frustrated and angry, and got into the car to go home. I had to sit in the backseat cause the frontseat was covered in shards of glass from the broken window which was kind of my fault. While sitting back there, I thought about how if I hadn’t have left my things the car, he maybe wouldn’t have broken in and how this was pretty much all my fault. I began to think about how it felt like my life was forming a pattern of making me feel safe and happy and then just shitting all over me.

“I feel like every time I’m happy, something bad happens. I beginning to think that I maybe don’t deserve happiness and that’s just my lot in life.” I said to James with tears in my eyes.



You don’t think he’d scream at you BUT HE WILL!

It was terrifying and kind and one of the nicest things anyone has ever screamed at me. I’m being serious when I say find someone who will scream at you about how worthy you are. it makes a big difference in your self esteem.

The Partner or The One Who Doesn’t Judge Anything You Do

When you’re 25, odds are you are going to make a lot of questionable choices. You might have that 3rd glass of wine or go and meet your friends at 11 pm when you know that you have to work at 8 am. Me? I’ve been making questionable choices since I was allowed to make choices. Pretty much every choice I’ve ever made is questionable. So, if you’re like me, you need someone who is going to be your partner in crime. Someone who will encourage some of your questionable choices (the safe, smart ones, obviously).

10305595_10202154224557822_8137557241564919891_n 165658_10150162101723206_2575337_n

Nick is that for me. There is nothing I’m afraid to tell him and vice versa. Every horrible thought, every jealous pain, every murder plot I’ve ever formed, Nick has been there for, listened to, and (mostly) agreed with. He’s agreed with pretty much everything, but I don’t want to implicate him should any of my murder plots every come to fruition, so let’s just say he mostly agrees with everything.

Nick is my partner in so many ways. In song, in dance, and life. You need a partner because you need to feel supported. You need to feel like someone is always going to have your back despite the outcome. It’s rare to find someone who can love and listen the way that Nick loves and listens. You need someone who is going to listen to your depravity and laugh. (Ok, my depravity is mostly just an extra glass of wine or beer but STILL!). If I never meet the “love of my life”, I know I’ll be totally fine because I’ll have Nick. And his husband. So. Prepare the guest room, boys! Ol’ Hollis is coming in! Uncork the wine and turn on the Gypsy soundtrack!

59888_500304683205_6272312_n 310652_2153579199761_556200835_n

The Backbone or The One Who Will Drop Everything For You

If you don’t have a Backbone friend (a phrase I just coined), then I truly pity you. I may even shed a tear for your loss and I’m not kidding. For me, my Backbone friend is Kelly. A Backbone friend is someone who you can call with tears in your eyes and a quiver in your voice and say “Do you have a second?” and they will not hesitate to drop whatever they are doing and listen. They could be at their grandmother’s funeral and would still drop everything to listen to you. (Although, why am I calling during their grandma’s funeral? I’m likely there. Am I calling because I’m lost on the way to the funeral? But, I digress.)

954761_10152109327023206_127875885_n 602724_4723664810295_1277671158_n

Anyway, for 6 years, Kelly has been a Backbone for me. She has heard me sobbing incoherently and squeaking with happiness (probably also incoherently). She has rubbed my back and held my hair when I was literally so devastated about something I was throwing up. She has been the first one I’ve called when something amazing or good has happened. A little over a year ago, something happened while I was home in Michigan and I absolutely lost it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so emotionally torn to shreds. I immediately called Kelly. The following was our conversation (to the best of my memory):

H: I just discovered [reason I was devastated]. What are you doing? I don’t know what to do. I want to scream. Kelly, I can’t do this.

K: Ok. I’m at Target by my house. Do you want me to come over?

H: No, you’re busy it’s OK. Just call me when you can.

K: Let me put my stuff down, I can be there in 20 minutes. Are you OK until then? Do you want to stay on the phone?

H: No, it’s OK finish shopping. We can talk later.

K: I’m already getting in my car. See you in 20 minutes.

And next thing I knew, Kelly was in my driveway, holding me as I pretty much collapsed in her arms. Not to mention, she brought me a scarf from Target! Emotional support and presents! Just the best.

I should also mention, that a Backbone friend will also be on your side about pretty much anything. Doesn’t matter the legitimacy. That person who makes ME go UGGGHH? We go UGGGHH about them together, even if the other has never met them. That guy we hated last week but now we kind of like again? We KIND OF LIKE HIM AGAIN together. Or wait, I hate him again? We HATE HIM now!


I just find this picture hilarious. Kelly hard at work…Hollis hardly working, am I right!?!

So, do your very, very best to find yourself a Backbone friend. You won’t regret it. And maybe they’ll buy you scarves.

The Protector/Henry Higgins or The One Who Can Always Make You Laugh

When I first decided to move to LA, I didn’t know a single person in the city. I don’t know what in the world I thought I was going to do when I got here. But luckily, the universe knew I couldn’t handle this alone and had a better plan. A few months before I moved, I worked on OZ and met the person who would soon become one of my favorite people. Ever.

934650_4961813923874_315843540_n 10393819_10202269492519449_3356225270031145011_n

Chris and I became friends when I made a joke about me hitting on Zach Braff and he hasn’t been able to shake me since. It’s wildly appropriate that our friendship started with a joke. It’s been three years since we met and we haven’t stopped laughing. And I can’t stress enough how important that is. But more on that later.  Since that Braff joke, Chris has always looked out for me. My second day out here, he introduced me to the wonderful group of people who would soon become my friends. He has helped me find apartments and helped me move 4 different times. He has answered my 8 million questions about LA; 4 million of which I could probably just google and already know. He has looked out for me and made sure I always have a roof over my head. He always knows to order a large popcorn when we go to the movies because even if I say I won’t have any, 15 minutes into that movie, I’m grabbing some o’ dat corn. I’m not kidding when I say I would have moved out of LA a long time ago if it wasn’t for him. He has this ability to know the right decision for me and when I’m making a mistake. And 80% of the time I don’t listen cause I’m a stubborn girl who likes to think I know the answer to everything and he doesn’t rub it too harshly in my face when I’m wrong.

I had a hard time pinning down what Chris’s title would be because he’s so many things to me, as all of my friends are, really. He’s also the Henry Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle. Not that he wants to fix me up into a proper English lady, but he has taught me so much. He’s like Henry Higgins if Henry Higgins was really into punk music, sci-fi television shows and Jack in the Box. He’s been educating me about music a lot lately and it’s great! Do you guys know why The Dead Kennedys broke up?? Cause I do! I’ll tell you later! And in that same vein, I like to think I’ve taught him things too. Things like an appreciation for Childish Gambino, Les Mis, Doctor Who and my Taco Bell order.

But, if I had to really boil it down and tell you why you need to find your Chris, it would be because you’re always going to want to laugh. You need to find someone who can make you laugh until you think you’re going to collapse.

laugh 1505248_10201458393842489_1313870771_n

unnamed 1505316_10152203428030962_192910043_n

Seriously. Almost too much laughter.

Life is going to throw a lot of things at you that make it hard to laugh, so you gotta find someone who’s going to get those laughs out no matter what. You’re going to want to find a friend who you can just say one phrase to ($100,000 dollars?!?!!) and you giggle like idiots in the middle of a 7-11. But let me warn you, that same friend will probably lecture you for holding up the line in that 7-11. EVEN THOUGH the whole reason you’re holding up the line is because he made you laugh! It’s a vicious circle. I find the best course of action is to just slide your peanut M&M’s in with whatever he’s buying because 95% of the time, he’ll just buy them for you and then you can laugh freely without fear of holding up the line. Ha-ha!

The Lifer or The One Who Has Been Around Forever and Will Continue to Be

I can’t remember when I first met Mia. It was sometime in 2nd grade and I’m sure we bonded because we’re both obsessed with the same things (boys and ourselves…kidding…kind of). It was so long ago and happened when we were so young; she’s just always been around. And man, am I grateful for that.


Mia and I through the years. From 2nd grade on…

You need to find your Mia because you’re going to need a friend who already knows everything about you because she’s witnessed it. You need a friend who knows when you’re mad cause you’re doing that one thing with your eyes that you’ve been doing since you were a kid. You need a friend who will call you out on your lies. You literally cannot lie to her because she already knows everything! You’ll try, believe me, you’ll try. “I don’t like him anymore, I think I’m really getting over it” or “Like, it’s totally not a big deal, I don’t care that she said that.” Your Mia will know you still like him and will know that you care that that girl said that. She makes it so not only can you not lie to her, you can’t lie to yourself. You need a friend who will have the same conversation over and over again with you about that guy or that situation. Literally the same conversation. You should have this conversation so many times that you could switch roles without missing a beat. You need a friend who you can yell at for no reason. Not because your actually angry or anything, but because she won’t go to Yogurtland with you AND YOU’RE MAD ABOUT IT SO YOU’RE GOING TO YELL AT HER.


You need a Mia because she will support you 100%. She will make you feel like you are a Beyonce/Meryl Streep hybrid who can walk on water. She will remind you that you are are beautiful and funny and smart. And you need to remind her of the same things because she is all of those things and MORE. In fact, you guys will be so good at supporting each other that you may just want to give up on other people completely and start a commune with only each other and your two gay friends. You’ll want to live out the movie The Birdcage and forget the rest of the world. And having a friend like Mia means knowing that while you’d miss out on a lot, that version of reality sounds pretty perfect.

The Soulmate

I wish I could tell you how to find your soulmate friend. I wish I could send you on your way with 100% confidence you’ll find her and be just as happy in friendship as we are.


But I can’t. Because I don’t know how you find your soulmate best friend. All I can come up with is that the Universe, God, Allah, Buddha, Albus Dumbledore, Zeus, Odin, Beyonce and whoever else you worship come together, work some magic, and bring you two together. It literally takes all of those gods and entities. That’s how powerful this whole thing is.

I met Kerri at a time in my life when I truly needed a miracle. My Dad had died a few months before and I was just lost. As I’ve mentioned before, I make some questionable decisions. Left to my own devices, I tend to live rather recklessly with little to no regard for consequences. In high school, this meant ignoring homework, skipping classes, and just generally being a little shit. While Kerri and I are incredibly similar in most ways, we are 100% opposites when it comes to school and responsibilities. While I skipped classes to purely go pick up lunch for us, Kerri would have her parents call her out on senior skip day. Kerri would spend weeks writing and meticulously preparing a large paper and I would start mine midnight the night before it was due, only after I had finished watching 3 hours of television.


Kerri saved me. She came into my life and centered me. I found someone who I could talk to for hours and then some. People will say “Oh, I have this friend and we never run out of things to talk about!” but, those people don’t know what they’re saying. They probably mean they can go to lunch with a friend and there aren’t many silences. Kerri and I have gone on 8 hour plane rides and week long vacations and have never stopped talking. I moved to LA almost 3 years ago and Kerri and I talk almost every day still for an hour or more. I could brag more, but I’ll spare you.


Kerri is my soulmate friend because she makes me want to be a better person. She doesn’t just make me feel like a good person; she makes me want to be the best person and she has me truly believe that I could the best version of myself. Kerri is the kindest person I’ve ever met. As I get older, I realize how much kindness matters more than anything else.

So I hope you’re lucky enough to find your Kerri someday. I hope the Universe comes together and gives you the best gift you’ve ever received. I’m lucky enough that mine came when I was only 14 years old and now I get to have this present for the rest of my life.



So good luck everyone! I hope someday you can find your own Brothers, Partners, Backbones, Uplifters, Protectors/Henry Higgins(s), Lifers, and Soulmates. Even if you can only find one of them, I guarantee your life will be exponentially better for it.

199247_10151091526651775_422035597_n 1011786_10151715920771775_67587192_n


601129_10151700483773206_566440847_n 165961_10151104730578206_1608210310_n



They’re all pretty great.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment