Hold The Mayo (Again)!


Hey gang! Remember that time I was on Jay Mayo’s awesome podcast, Hold The Mayo? Well, he asked me to come back so here I am again! Do yourselves a favor a give it a listen. We talk about all sorts of fun stuff like heroin, Eric Clapton, Daryl Hanna, amazing 80s movies, and my new show Double Date!

Click here to listen. It’s that easy!

http://hwcdn.libsyn.com/p/4/b/a/4baaced6e68eb8dc/HTM_EP_95_Marie_Forster.mp3?c_id=10727352&expiration=1453210351&hwt=6e2f6788a32dc4d05062a7781539a3ce

Want tickets to see Double Date with Rob and Marie? You can get them here!

http://ricomedyconnection.com/mobile/show.cfm?cart&id=427839

See You In 183 Days


For the past two weeks, I haven’t had to fight with the fitted sheet on my mattress. Specifically, the upper left corner. I simply pull the covers down and get into bed. No more tugging, pulling, inadvertently bending a nail back as I plead with the elastic to please, please, stay the fuck down for one goddamn night. For almost two years, I’ve engaged in this nightly boudoir battle, each morning waking to defeat. Suddenly, one morning, it was over. The sheet stayed down, compliant in its position. At first I was thrilled. FINALLY! As the nights ticked by, my celebratory mood turned sour. The left corner is mocking me. Continue reading “See You In 183 Days”

Weight


Weight

I hate this picture.

Weight

My arms/belly/face looks too fat.

Weight

Why did I eat that fourth piece of pizza?

Weight

Fuck this, diet starts tomorrow.

Weight

Ok, one more piece…

Weight

I wish I were thinner.

Weight

I hate how I look.

Wait

Your family and friends love you.

Wait

Nothing happens overnight.

Wait

You are smart, loving, healthy, and beautiful.

Wait

You are stronger than you think.

Stop

Letting a scale define you.

Lookin’ Good, Shithead!


I’m a pretty routine person.

During the work week, I wake up at the same time every day. Depending on my level of soreness, I have been going to the gym 3-4 days at 5:30 am. Once home, I begin my morning ritual: pee, start the shower, strip down, step on the scale, curse the scale, step off, immediately step on it again because maybe I read it wrong?, realize I did read it wrong and it actually went UP, curse the scale, angrily get into the shower, lather, rinse, repeat. I make a 12 cup pot of coffee in my trusty Mr. Coffee because it will inevitably get fucked up if I try to order it elsewhere. I pack my own lunches and snacks for work, mostly because I’m cheap, but also because I try to be healthy(ish). I leave the house at the same time, +/- three minutes to get to work on time.

Routines. Continue reading “Lookin’ Good, Shithead!”

Happy (Un)Anniversary


September 15, 2015

Dear 2007 Marie:

Today is our eight year wedding anniversary. Crazy, right??

That was the first thought that popped into my head this morning when I woke up, and it made me smile. Such good memories! You are dressed in a beautiful wedding gown with flawless hair and makeup. People fawning all over you, taking pictures. The only thing you had to do was show up! When does that ever happen? We were surrounded by lots of loving friends and family, ready to have a huge party and celebrate this awesome day.

Then, I rolled over in bed, looked to my right and saw the man I love. Except, it’s not the man you married. Continue reading “Happy (Un)Anniversary”

Funnier Broad: Alessandra Grima


Look! It's Alessandra in the wild!

Look! It’s Alessandra in the wild!

Alessandra Grima is a modern-day Renaissance woman. Over the past few years, I’ve seen her perform in our local comedy scene. Recently, I’ve come to realize she’s more than just a comic. Instagram sensation, actress, model, comic, singer, fashion designer. You name it, she’s done it.

This interview took place one night over a bottle of wine and several hours of laughter. I recorded our mildly intoxicated conversation, which has now lead into an accidental podcast (which is coming soon — hopefully). While that is under construction,  I wanted to share the highlight reel of the interview. Enjoy! Continue reading “Funnier Broad: Alessandra Grima”

Dear Diary


Diary Recently, an old friend moved in. He showed up one night, begging for a place to stay. “I promise, its only for the night. You won’t even notice me! I’ll be out by morning.” This is someone I’ve known a long time and I’ve heard this line before. I should have said no and closed the door. Foolishly, I didn’t. It wasn’t long before I realized my mistake. Today turned into tomorrow, which turned into 2 weeks, which turned into a month. Suddenly, I’m stepping over empty pizza boxes, finding foreign hairs in my sink and seeing very weird recommendations in my Netflix queue. What was happening? I tried to get him to leave, but he wouldn’t move. He gave excuse after excuse, me falling for each one.

Who was this guy?

Oh, he’s my old friend, Writer’s Block.
Continue reading “Dear Diary”

Open Letter To The Ticket Counter Lady At The Ferry Terminal


Dear Ferry Ticket Counter Lady:

Whew! That was close! I’m writing this letter to you whilst sitting on the ferry you in no way helped me board.

Thank you for your complete indifference and 0.0 sense of urgency to the line of customers waiting for assistance in getting on this ferry. Your lack of interest to the patrons who pre-paid for this now sold out ferry really helped me feel like I wasn’t going to miss the proverbial (and actual) boat. Continue reading “Open Letter To The Ticket Counter Lady At The Ferry Terminal”

Dating: I Was Doing It All Wrong


When I was at work the other day, I got a text from my boyfriend. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. It was a picture, but it was hard to see what it was. I clicked on it to enlarge, and there it was: it was a picture of poop, floating in a toilet.

I was ecstatic.

This was a historic moment, and I wanted to share it with someone. Grabbing my phone, I intended to show my co-worker, sitting behind me. Halfway out of my seat, I realized it probably wasn’t the greatest idea. (Still not my worst, either).

“Is this some weird kind of scat fetish?”

I should probably tell you those turds belonged to his 3 and a half year old son, who is in the midst of potty training.

How did this become my life?

It started a little over a year ago, when I first met my boyfriend. Both new to stand-up comedy, we met at an open mic. I thought he was hilarious, adorable, smart, charming. He had a job, a car, and his own place. (You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was finding someone who met those three basic requirements.) He was everything I wanted in a partner, except for one major obstacle: he had a kid.

Not my boyfriend. Not his kid.

Not my boyfriend. Not his kid.

Full disclosure: I never wanted a relationship with someone who had kids. In fact, it was kind of a deal breaker. I could barely handle one adult relationship; how could I deal with a child? In my mind, dating a man with kids meant not doing what I want, when I wanted. It meant sacrificing time, attention. It meant I couldn’t be selfish. That’s not an easy admission. But, after some serious self-reflection, I decided to break my own rules and give the relationship a chance.

Once we had been seeing each other for a while, he decided to take the next step and introduce me to his son. I was petrified. I really liked him and didn’t want the relationship to end.  But, what if his son didn’t like me? What if he didn’t like me with his son? Even worse, what if I didn’t like his son?? These thoughts scared the proverbial shit out of me. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that kind of commitment.

I was wrong.

Of course, his son is beyond adorable and I can’t believe I ever questioned my decision. I’m having the time of my life. I look forward to seeing him, hearing his tiny (yet very loud) voice shout absurd declarations, mostly about needing more apple juice. Even the dog, who could care less about us, gets excited that he’ll be chasing him around the house for a week.

Gone are my days of day drinking and lounging around in my free time. Instead, we plan days and weekends with trips to the park, children’s museums, looking for bugs, monster truck shows, spontaneous glow stick parties, and digging in sandboxes. He makes up hilarious stories and has us laughing all the time.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned has been to trust my heart, not my head. If I never gave this single dad a chance, I would have been one giant turd.