Yabba Dabba Doooo-de where the fuck are we?!

Seth and I got up early today to head out to the Grand Canyon. First stop, Egg McMuffin from the turquoise arches. That’s right son, they are aqua out here. We are about half way to our destination, stop for gas, and what do we see? Oh nothing but Bedrock Campground!! This is an old school, practically deserted life size replica of the Hannah Barbera classic come to life. When you think of running across something bizarre and surreal on a road trip, this was just that. Adding to the strange factor, we were the only folks there. I can’t really even describe it. I just have to show it!












The below pic had the flash on. It was actually a pitch black theater that shows Flinstone episodes all day. But walking in, I thought we were gonna be eaten by coyotes.

I’m in Sedona!

Home to the magnificent Red Rocks, Devils Bridge (which we hiked yesterday) and….

ladies and gentlemen, the worlds CUTEST TREE!

We are out here for the Sedona Film Festival. It doesn’t actually go down till February, but they are showing the Joan movie for their summer screening. AKA: they gave Seth and I a trip out here!

It’s gorgeous. Like Utah but without the shitty low alcohol beer rule!

Our day rounded out with an amazing slow food meal and wine tasting on a farm with and short film screening as bats flew around above our heads.

Ahhhhhhh…..

Drinking Pacifico in bed while photoshopping fake movie posters.

My kind of night.

Hey! A girls gotta eat….

…. mounds and mounds of food at Buddakan to the point of being so full they start having a panic attack and the only thing that can calm them down is lots and lots of cocktails and gossip with their best gal.

At least once a month!

I can’t get you out of my fucking head Pygmy Giraffe.

You are haunting me. I want to own you so bad that I would take a scientist by gunpoint and make him work day and night until he figured out the genetic key to cloning giraffes to be as tiny as you.

I will NOT SLEEP until I can have a full blown safari fit into a backyard or at least a giraffe that I can carry around in a baby bjorn. I would make you in charge of keeping up with all my bracelets around your neck and choosing which one best matches my outfit that day. I would call you “Raffi” (short for giraffe) or perhaps Glen (after the scientist I accidentally killed while trying to create you).

You would sit in my lap as we watch romcoms, me stuffing my face with pizza and you getting full from one leaf.

~~i love you so much.

In Honor of “Eat, Pray, Love” coming out in theaters….

I am reposting a blog I wrote back in 2008 when I was in Bali, entitled…

“Eat, Pray, B’Scuse me?!”

today in ubud we sought out wayan from the best selling book “eat, pray, love”. if you havent read it, its wonderful and i strongly recommend it. in the book the author stays six months in bali and befriends a woman named wayan who is a traditional balinese healer. she has a tiny shop with two tables and serves a vitamin lunch. this is a series of dishes that are really super good for you and she explains the healing/medicinal properties of each dish.

we started with this drink of freshly grated tumeric, lime, honey, and water..

then went from there.

at the end of the meal wayan gave each of us a tiny hand reading of our health. jillian is gassy needs more calcium blah blah, erika will marry once and should stay away from eggs and meat. then came mine! after inspecting my hands for what seemed for forever, wayan bestowed her read upon me. she says, verbatim “your mind is in the middle. youre not that smart and not that stupid”.

that was it. what?!? i come to a traditional healer on the other side of the world to find out im average? well her cooking was average. ive got a new nemesis- wayan from eat, pray, love.

ok i walked it off and then we headed to mangde’s village to attend the full moon ceremony. it was amazing. his sisters dressed us in traditional garb..

then we headed to the temple to pray and put up our shrine of flowers and incense. then for the next 2 hours it was display of intense music (mangde plays gamalan) costumes and dancing. we were the token caucasians and i was so happy to experience something that most tourists do not.

afterwards, mangdes sisters and mom cooked us dinner- fish caught that day by mangde’s brother. his family were some of the nicest people ive ever met, welcoming us into their home and culture. i love bali.

Chinatown Bus Exhaust-ed!~

One may think that after 9 days of sitting on your Mama’s couch eating cheese and watching bad television, I would come back fully rested and bright eyed- bushy tailed. WRONG!

I’ve been burning the candle at both ends (like the pic! eh? eh??). When I got on that $30 bus from Greensboro, NC to Chinatown, I was the epitome of relaxation. I had a bag full of snacks. Everything from Trail Mix, to Sun Chips, to Riesens (how the fuck has there never been an ad campaign with a remix of Tracy Chapman’s “Give me one Riesen to Stay Here”?!). I had new magazines and brand new book lamp.

Cut to one hour into the drive, my book lamp lasted approximately 10 minutes before dying, its was POURING out, and the bus had one headlight that worked. It looked like we were driving into complete darkness and, apparently, my bus driver learned to drive by playing Grand Theft Auto I-95. So I did what anyone scared for their life would do. I closed my eyes, took a deep breathe and took a four pack of Sutter Home Cabernet to the face…

By bottle #3, Dude beside me said:
Dude: ” Jesus, do you have a case of those in your purse?”
Me: “Do not judge me”
Dude: “I’m already wasted”

…and that is 80% of the conversation we held on the 10 hour death ride.

So there you have it. All relaxation I had built up over the past week and half was immediately gone and my shoulders were up around my ears again. Put bartending shifts, two days of print ad shooting (more on that later!), rehearsal, and a 1am Cudzoo show into a 3 day mix and you get a sick Mamrie. But now I’m feeling better and raring to go! I’m rested up and I got a new kick in my step.

Yes, this is partially due to my new found love with adorable, transportable wine. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, “Don’t judge me!”

Sugar and spice and everything….mice???

In “Dinner for Schmucks”, Steve Carrell’s character makes these taxidermy mice dioramas. If you have read this blog before, you know that I HATE RODENTS.

It’s not a fear. It’s a full blown phobia.

But…. I don’t know…. I kind of want on of these things.

I’m not saying my phobia is letting up. I think what I’m saying is that I’d be a lot less scared shitless of mice, hell rats even, if they wore period piece costumes and Evel Knievel uniforms. Can we make this happen Bloomberg?

In other news….

…when did my cousin Hallie get so HAWT?!

I remember when we were little things that had a secret language, went to wild pony islands, and our biggest high was calling an oldies station and hearing our request being played.

L.A. is treating you good cuz. Now hurry up and move to NYC. xo.