This blog is bland but I love it

I recently completed a survey about my experience as a BC Theatre major and the value I place on my time spent and education gained in the department, and one of the final questions was "what advice would you give to incoming freshmen about to embark on their BC Theatre careers?" or something to that effect.

And I said "leave the drama on the stage."

My life is still whimsical and very much full of situational comedy and kinda sorta like a fairytale in its own right, but for the most part, it's bland like this blog and I love it too.

So, at my happy yoga dance class Monday night we talked about how May's all about Manifesting.  And I've got some intentions I'm working on like the rest of my astrology loving friends anxious to capitalize on the couplet of eclipses forthcoming in the next three weeks, but tonight, I've got two throwbacks in honor of #TBT (which I can only assume means throw back thursday)....

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My life goals as of winter of 2005

I'll put a note whenever there's one I've accomplished in the past 8 years :)

* Live abroad for a year (+)

* Graduate with a 3.5 done

* Get under 120 lbs + stay there/fit ->done for about a month in 2011done

* Pay off college/credit card debt by age 32

* Buy first car by age 26 done

* Move to New York City by 2008 done

* Audition in New York City done

* Do Regional/Community Theatre into my 30s

* Be married before age 30 (*ideally by 28)

* Have kids (1 - 3) by age 37

* Travel to every continent

* Consider Higher Ed: Law/Business

* Be happy done

* Be in love

* Be adventurous done

* Be fluent in Italian

* Be in touch with at least 3 home + school friends at all times done

* Be friends with my sisters done

* Go on safari done in Disney World, but I'm holding out for the real thing
* Go scuba diving / swimming w/ dolphins

& The top four things that could always make me happy as of March 2005

1. Driving makes me happy because singing makes me happy, and especially while at school where I don't feel comfortable belting my heart out in the dorms, I find it an uber release to just get in the car blast Broadway or Kiss108 and be the American Idol I secretly think I am.  Singing was my first love and it can alllllways calm me down / raise my spirits.  That's why I couldn't drop bOp even in the thick of things this year, because I love the sound of voices coming together to make music and it's catharsis like no other.

2. Baking cookies makes me happy because I like to see things through to completion.  It's like my reason for secretly having liked math all along:  the equation can almost always be solved if you know the formula - and the cookies will always turn out yummy if you've got the ingredients down.  Following through gives me a sense of accomplishment that can always make me happy.  I also like the fact that I can make them without having to look at the directions as a reference.  It allows me to think about other things or socialize with the people I'm baking for when I can whip them up without taking the time to check my cook book.  Plus I still get happy whenever people take that first bite and enjoy it.

3  And the reason for that is that I'm happy making other people happy.  Cards make me happy because of the thought that goes into them, and shopping for cards makes me happy because I know the perfect one is out there for whoever I have in mind.  I love buying gifts that I know will make people happy, and I love doing favors for people that I know will make people happy, and I love giving people complements that are going to make them happy, and telling jokes that are going to make them happy, and asking questions they'll be happy to talk about, and hosting successful events they'll be happy at, and well you get the picture on that one.

4.  My family makes me happy.  My family drives me crazy, but I once sat down and popped out 100 some odd Reasons I Love Being A Naugler as an element of an x-mas present for my mom and I was not surprised in the least by how quickly I was able to come up with them all.  My parents make me happy because their love for eachother has only grown in the 20 years since they got married when they themselves were babies, and because they just genuinely love babies and that's why they had so many of us and are able to love us so thoroughly even though they've got to spread themselves pretty thin to do so.  My brother Michael makes me happy whenever I hear him sing or watch him act or be sweet to my sisters or joke with friends and the same goes for Ryan who also makes me happy when he raps or tries to impress my friends even if it's by back farting on the floor, my sisters make me happy because I can just imagine what awesome girls they're going to grow into and I hope the three of us can be the kinds of friends the two of them are right now.  On the whole: fam =s love =s happiness.

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So yeah.  Just food for thought.  Earlier I bought and mailed 5 cards for mothers day & my dad's bday, because I won't be Boston bound for this "holiday weekend" either - test running for next year when it's just the sorellina's college graduation, a roomie's wedding, and Christmas - mayyybe Thanksgiving, that brings me back East.  And now I'm just in the mood for mellow introspection. 

Here's to manifesting in May.

You are here.

Yesterday I took the 2 train from 96th St to Penn Station after work, before my first 401 improv class at UCB.

I was entirely in my own world, standing mid train thinking about any number of a million things, when this older gentleman tapped me on the shoulder (sort of awkwardly as he was directly in front of me, although I must admit I hadn't even noticed him until he entered my immediately-personal-space bubble with the shoulder tap/poke and anyway), when he had my attention he asked,

"Excuse me do you ride the 1 train?" (to which I said yes I do), and he wondered whether he could transfer to the 1 from the 2 at 14th St or if he had to do so at 42nd Street.  He was going to the West Village.  So I explained that either way he'd have a fine time transferring, the train would come to the track right across from the one we were on at both stops, but he shouldn't worry about holding off until 14th St, that would make his trip that much quicker.

And he said thank you and I said your welcome and was ready to go back to my little lala land, but just then a girl sitting behind me to the left (who again I definitely had not noticed in the time it took to get from 96th St to about 72nd St where we were at that point), spoke up 

"Excuse me - actually, I have a similar question," she said to me, and then she asked if she could transfer at 14th St for the 1 train, because she was ultimately going to South Ferry. 

And she could, I told her.  And she thanked me.  And the older man who'd first consulted me smiled and said something along the lines of "everyone's asking you for a little help today."  To which I smiled and thought about saying something like "real New Yorker" or a remark of that nature, but I couldn't because just then a man I HAD noticed get on the train with me at 96th St and HAD passively noticed NOT be able to get a seat originally, put his hand on my shoulder in the MOST familiar way, like an uncle at a family function excusing himself as he passes behind you to get to the dessert table, and the man who hadn't gotten a seat originally gave me this look, because a seat had opened up right in front of me and he was going for it, and one can only assume that he'd just seen me dole out directions to these two other folks on the train, so he knew I was good for going ahead and letting him take that seat there....

And it was such a bizarre series of events, that I said (under my breath I guess, but aloud probablya and embarrassingly enough) "where am I?"

At which time... I swear to God... a woman walked onto the train at 42nd Street with her nose in a book, and the cover of the book said

And needless to say, I think I know the next book I'll be buying for subway reading material.

Google, Glee, and Go Naugs Go

Good evening blogosphere, happy Spring, happy Saturday!

Some things of note:

1st: Google / Googling.  Have people stopped to think about the ease with which one can be googled?  Namely, have I stopped to think about it?  I know exes have googled me, and I once had a cast mate in a show who was probably 7 years old at the time tell me he was impressed by the fact that I had three pages of relevant stories come up when he googled me, and then apparently there's a rancher in Aurora, CO who googled me just a couple months ago, but like, who else is likely to?  My artists?  My clients?  My future literary agent?  And honestly how easy is it for anyone and everyone to do?

2nd: GLEE.  So today I helped out a friend from Boston College by being a background actor for an episode of a web series she's shooting.  It was a low key and relatively fun way to spend a Saturday morning (hurry up and waiting) at a swanky apartment on the Upper Upper West Side, but the highlight was when the PA designated my role in the scene as that of a college intern trying to get a job out of the random conversations she was having at the party.  College?!  Me?!  Thank you dahhhhling... What's more, she told me, in front of a couple of the other actors, she really would have believed I was college age, and what's more, she could see me on Glee playing one of those high schoolers.  At which point my college friend told her I sing well, and so the PA went on, "go then, you should go be on Glee" and so I said "okay" much to the amusement of the other actors.  I've never had one of those moments where someone says it so nonchalantly, "you should be... go do" - I know it happens to other actors all the time.  Their family members say "you should be on Broadway," "why don't you do that soap that shoots in NYC?" but I guess I'm surrounded by practical people with more realistic expectations and somewhat of an understanding of the uphill road to being an overnight success 10 years in the making.

3rd: Speaking of 10 years in the making and life/careers/relationships and really all things worthwhile being a marathon not a sprint.  I just ran 7 miles wearing my Boston Marathon Runner shirt.  In honor of Boston 2013 being two days from now and that 7 being the farthest I've run since Boston 2012.

But I'll be darned if I don't take what I learned in marathon training/running last year and apply it to things in my life on a daily basis.  We run for our cause, we run cause we can.  In it to finish it.  A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step and all that.  Not to mention, RWE's 'what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.'  When you set out to accomplish something, stick to it, get'er done, it is so invigorating and so inspiring.  It's addictive.

True Romance

I haven't wanted to write because I don't want to jinx it.  And you know I'm not really sure what the rules are about writing from the middle of a potentially amazing story you're in the process of living.  Whether it's annoying or inconsiderate or tactless or unnecessary or uninteresting to anyone else (aka the 8 - 30 or so who make up my blog and website's audience and would/will read this).

I mean I've gotten a kick out of telling people the story in the past three weeks.  How my bambina sorella and I had a 15 hour layover in Brussels on our way back from crashing my sorellina's spring break trip in Rome, so we booked a hotel in the Grand Place and took in some sights before settling back at the first bar we noticed in the cab from the airport to our hotel that night around 8 when we got in to Belgium.

We probably spent from 9:30pm to 12:30am in the company of our new friend.  I'd asked if he knew we were American when he heard us talk or when he'd seen that my sis was wearing a flannel shirt.  Actually, he said, at first he'd thought we may be locals.

Our blonde hair had garnered some funny pick up lines the day before in Rome ("i like your curly hair...happy women's day... love me tonight?") and a couple hours earlier as we were deciding between chocolate, waffles and french fries for our traditional Belgium street meal ("hello...can i kidnap you for 24 hours?  you can kidnap me," and of course you need to imagine that first series in an Italian accent and this second one in a Flemish accent), but in Belgium, which is like the DC of Europe - a verifiable international hub - based on the languages we were approached with we were seemingly passing as French, Irish, German, and apparently even Belgian. 

Anyway what's funny is what propelled me to book the tix for my littlest sis and me.   My netflix queue is stacked with movies that were a big deal on average seven years ago.  What was I so busy doing seven years ago I wonder that I missed so many movies I'd meant to see?  Theatre I suppose.  I did 14 shows in the two years I spent living in Boston after college.  So I didn't really have many nights and weekends free to take in films.

But now, I have and use netflix, so I'm slowly but surely catching up on pop culture.  And I rented PS, I Love You with Hillary Swank and Gerard Butler, who plays Irish but is a Scott, I believe. And I'll be damned if that movie didn't just smack me in the face with a reminder of how romantic Ireland is/was.

I decided as the credits started to roll, that, fine that was it, I would book my flight and my sister's.  Cause we had to run to Rome.  Even if just for a few days.  A ROMANtic get away.  Literally.  It would be a trip all about sisterhood and spontaneity, connecting with our Italian roots, and reveling in the fun that would be getting to go out to the discotecas together and seeing sights and speaking in our pigeon Italian.  A rejuvenating jaunt, and really just a fun little adventure.  It would be romantic even if we were all single right now and unlikely to have the time or the where-withal to pick up any Italian Stallions or ride on the back of mopeds with them to Tuscany, because what is more romantic than Europe?  All of the history, the art, the sounds that roll around in peoples' mouths as they speak those languages or as they speak English in their endearing accents be them Italian, Flemish, Irish... Southern...

That's the thing, I heard the southern accent amidst the international cacophony we were surrounded by at Churchills - the English Pub we settled on having a pint or two and eating our french fries with curry ketchup at.  And maybe it's faded from what it once was, but it was warm like a hug and low in timber like the motor of a tractor, a discernible drawl.

And then I took my coat off and in a game changing gesture decided to hang it behind me instead of putting it with my purse on the open chair to my right.

And then there was this quick exchange of eye contact.  And we were off.  And three hours later it was so cute that my bambina sorella was asking whether she should leave me alone, because of course no, I told her, there was no way I was ditching her for a dude effectively leaving her alone at 18 in a city where they speak French and Flemish, but if the connection counted, it'd find a way to work itself out. And I just had a feeling, less from the 3 hour convo and more from that momentary eye contact exchange that it counted.

I can think of 3 times in my life when I've had those exchanges.  And they've all been so crazy!  So telling.  So unique and so charged.  And I wish I were a writer with the words to fully summarize all that went on in the instances of those exchanges.  Cause if I were, I bet I'd already have a literary agent - ha - but suffice it to say, they lead to true romance.  And prove that Wall-E was write to harp on good old Cornelius Hack's hindsight.  Who knows what will happen, one day at a time and all that, I'm hardly waiting for a princess styled happy ending but I've definitely been reminded of how these two have really got it figured out:

TALENT

Are you kidding me?  People. are. so. talented.

I mean we all have our gifts.  And I love mine.  And yours.  And I celebrate them and believe in them and all that.  I just need to take a minute here to acknowledge this guy's.  This "Paint'"s.

This is smart and funny and so well shot and sung. 

Poor princesses.

That's why fairytales just shouldn't end.  They should be stories sans finales.

Lives lived intenionally: this guy's style.

Speaking of which.  I am on a wicked good read kick.  As in, every book I pick up or get told to read right now, in this 2013, is so good.

Having AND eating my cake

Cause seriously, there's plenty to go around.

This weekend I will have two too many raviolis with my extended Italian family in Topsfield, MA on Saturday at our belated celebration of Carnival and then one too many guinesses with my extended Irish family in Pepperell, MA on Sunday.

Where in god's name are either of those towns?  No matter.

The point is - there will be much family time to come in both of them in the next few days, and this city girl is seriously making the rounds in 2013 as we lead up to the La La Launch of 2014.

So is it whackadoo to be fitting in hang out sessions with multiple friend groups, and a big meeting with the bosslady before heading back for a rehearsal with my Magnet Theatre Musical Improv Mixer House-Team Monday night?

You better believe it - but would I have it any other way?

Nope.

Nomadic Naugs gets to have a home and the ability to pick up and take off for a few days at a time, and I'm not apologizing for that.

Because I love having my cake and eating it too.

And there's plenty of cake to go around.  Plenty of cake, plenty of time, plenty of sunshine, people, you just need to take yours!  You just need to pick yourself, player!

We interrupt this message

to bring you this very important and hilarious message I got yesterday in response to the last line of my email to her "ROMA in 2 DAYS!!!"

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: One of my favorite curly haired friends
Date: Mon, Mar 4, 2013 at 5:38 PM
Subject: Re: flowers
To: Danielle Naugler


AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SEND A POSTCARD!!!!! THAT IS SOOOOO FUN!!! ARE YOU PACKED?!?!?

oh my good god.  be safe, have fun, and def meet a man who will take you on a moped ride... k greatttt.

eatpraylove.

ooyfchf (One of your favorite curly haired friends)

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Love this.  Love my friends.  Love my sisters.  Love that we're going to be in Rome together for all of 3 days worth of amazing memory making.

The kids are saying #YOLO, and in my effort to carpe diem Newsie style and maximize this time I have when my sisters and I are all still basically 20somethings, I'm saying #YOYO (you're only young once) and living it up.

Arrivaderci, Nueva York.  BRB.