Tea Guarie's Wellness Advice*

(*wellness not typical)





--> Spend at least 40 hours a week sitting on your ass in a dimly-lit, poorly ventilated cubicle.

--> Make sure your obsessive and unbalanced diet is supplemented daily with Diet Coke, sugarfree gum and Tums.

--> Sweat the small stuff . . . and occasionally forget to put on deodorant in the morning.

--> Take time out of your busy day to talk to your TV, the roommate who will never judge.

--> When times get tough, don't focus on the negative. Instead, occupy your mind with proactive things, like planning the music for your funeral, or fantasizing about bringing an "I Quit!" cake to work.

--> In these tough economic times, plan ahead. Scout out local parks, ATMs, and abandoned factories suitable for sleeping in. Also -- think about which body part you'd be most willing to sell in case of a financial emergency.

--> Liquor before beer, you're in the clear. Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Wine before three, you can be friends with Tea. Wine before noon, and you're totes gonna die soon.

Laugh Riot

What happened to my dutiful daily blog posts? Sorry, people. This is a perfect example of why I continue to lag behind in the Journey to Life Fulfillment – lack of dedication.

I *did* make good on my commitment to comedy, though! Monday night was my first BCAE Stand Up class. I’ll admit – I was prepared for anything: A room full of sociopathic lonely people looking for an audience for their amusing pet bird stories. A bitter, washed-up “teacher” bent on heckling us all to tears. Discovering that I might not actually be that funny. Bring it on, Adult Education Place – I can take it!

Fortunately, my classmates appear to be normal and friendly, and our teacher is a young, genuine guy who is really in to sharing his love of comedy. We’ve got 6 weeks of class to build our routine, and then we’ll be doing a “Show” for an audience of family and friends! Hahaha – suckahs!

I’m really excited about this. I’m excited to have “homework” that involves making note of all the whacked-out, hilarious shit that goes on in my day, excited to have a “hobby” that doesn’t involve complaining and /or binge-drinking. Whether or not people who don’t know me will actually find me amusing remains to be seen. I’d pray about it, but I suspect Jesus probably remembers all the jokes I’ve made at his expense over the years. So I will just have Hope – Obama-style.

The only downside to the class is that it gets out at 9:45pm. I’m not one of those girls who fears wandering around after dark – but the MBTA seems determined that I should be assaulted. I waited in the creepy bowels of Boylston Station for a good 15 minutes for a Green Line train going to Lechmere. When one finally arrived, it was pretty sparsely populated – students, night shift workers, some sleepy drunks. No worries. I was being lulled into a “T-coma” myself, until we pulled into North Station and all hell broke loose.

The conductor suddenly announced that North Station will be the last stop. We all grumbled our way off the train – and into the angry mob crowded on the platform. Lots of drunk, tired people in Celtics garb. This could not end well.

“This is the THIRD TRAIN to come through here Out of Service! We’ve been waiting for 20 MINUTES!!” an irate middle-aged woman shouted at the T driver.

Hi lady – welcome to every day of my goddamn life. I have learned to accept the fact that the T is going to leave my stranded. It’s like the pot-smoking older brother of mass transit systems. It knows it’s supposed to come get you . . . but it has other stuff to do.

Now, the only time I find myself mustering actual anger towards the T is when it compromises my safety. Like leavin’ me hanging at an unlit bus stop at 11 o’clock at night for 45 minutes. Or forcing me off the train into an angry mob. Even the MBTA employees were starting to look nervous – although they adhered to the T’s strict customer service policy of ignoring everyone.

Angry lady started kicking the Out of Service train that was left idling on the platform for another 10 minutes. I doubt she could have done much damage, but I was getting more concerned about the drunk, pissed off frat boys who were debating prying open the train doors and refusing to get off.

Just when it seemed I’d be living out that romantic childhood dream of sleeping on a bench in a railway station – a train came. Crammed in with my boozy brethren, I kept thinking, “There’s comedy to be found in this situation, I know it . . . and I will find it, once I get the eff off this train.”

Teacher says life is one big stand up riff. Apparently I’ve been inadvertently preparing for this class since birth. Time to go do my homework!

she's baaaack

Did you miss me, blogland? Because I sure did miss you! Not enough to spend $10 for an hour of Tropical wifi - but you were in my thoughts nonetheless.

It's back to reality after a week of fun and sun. I can't wait to retire! Only 40 years to go . . . assuming I'm not felled by skin cancer before the age of 65. As my use of sunblock is cursory at best, my retirement future is still up in the air. Whatever - I live fast.

Life was not particularly fast last week, though. Life involved a lot of lying around in the sun, admiring birds and enjoying the sound of breezes in the palm trees. No lie. My grandma kept us well-stocked in chocolate mints and snack mixes, while my grandpa plied us with rum.

And, as often happens when I am surrounded by members of The Greatest Generation, I learned things on this trip. Little gems of life wisdom that I will glad share with you, blog readers:




If your father tricks you into touching this prickly cactus, you can remove the spines from your hand with tape and / or a nail file.

Hush puppies contain neither hush, nor puppy.

This is what dolphin sex looks like:





Sigh. I vow to someday live a life filled with rum, sun, and plenty of dolphin sex. But now, its back to the Beantown grind. At least there's bound to be laughter ahead!

no joke

I have trouble taking things seriously. This has, at times, been problematic. I was always the girl shaking with silent laughter in church. I joke about people’s personal issues that they find . . . not funny. I snicker during tragic, sometimes Holocaust-themed movies.

My sass-mouth is at times a curse, yes. But it can also be a blessing.

Who likes making up ridiculous lyrics to cheesy pop-songs to express her displeasure during the working day? Who can help lighten the mood at a wake / shotgun wedding / tearful college-move-in-day scene? Who’s a good time on long-ass car trips? If you guessed me – you know me well! Too well. Quit stalking me.

Anyway – the point is, I love laughing, and making other people laugh, and laughing along with others even when I don’t know what they’re laughing at. I figure the time has come to take this passion to the streets, people. So I am here to announce that March is officially Comedy Month!

I have signed up for a Stand Up Comedy Class at the Boston Center for Adult Education. I figure the class will either be a peek into the wonderful world of comedy . . . or a room full of weird, desperate social-outcasts that I can heckle. It’s a win-win situation. Aaaaannnd . . . for the final class, everyone gets up and does a five minute routine. I’m hoping “how to tell a mildly amusing story without cracking yourself up” is part of the syllabus.

My foray into the world of stand-up starts 2 days after I return from a Family Vacation! Team Guarie is hittin’ the road together, all four of us, for the first time since . . . well, since Golden Girls went off the air. We’re going down to visit my grandparents in Tropical Paradise. I am beyond excited to escape the snow and luxuriate on a trip not limited by my usual shoestring budget. No “leftover-hostel-baguettes-eaten-in-an-alleyway” dinnahs on this vaycay people – we’re goin’ First Class, Grandparent Style! Homecooked meals and heated swimming pools! Boats! Dolphins! Potentially dangerous watersports! My heart is *singing*!

This trip is obviously ripe for much hilarity. Will my mother behave like an autistic five-year-old on the plane, as she often does? Is my brother really only going to communicate with us via text message for the entire week? Will Papa G break another limb?? How hard is it to get a manatee to bite you?

I will have answers to all of these questions in just a few short days. I’m hoping I’ll be able to blog from FL, so stay tuned for more “Tea: Live from the Tropics!” action.

And don’t forget to tip your waitress! Thank you! Good night!