Friday, October 30, 2009


I hope you all have a very safe and happy Halloween!!! Roar!!!

I really miss my pumpkin flashlight...that thing was rockin.

Thursday, October 29, 2009


A portion of the email exchange between my sister and me regarding the Birthday video she sent:


The Sister:
Yes. Since it is your birthday I felt you should get to be the girl.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009


From my sister...

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


I mean, really. I have had the loveliest of birthdays and every year it just gets better and better...

Today consisted of delicious eats all day long, ridiculously wonderful people, celebs, mani-pedis, birth stories, catholic greeting cards, a donkey, and an animated video involving gymnastics.

I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!?!?

Will write more tomorrow with the full blown re-cap, but all I can say is a giant

to every single person who made my birthday so special. I am the luck-luck-luckiest person on the planet, I feel so damn loved, and I love each and every one of you back. I don't know what I did to deserve such stellar friends and family.









Dylan Thomas!


Emily Post!





This past weekend I had my birthday party, and oh what a party it was. The theme was "Bat Mitzvah Disco" and it was seriously hoppin'. I'd always wanted a Bat Mitzvah seeing as almost all of my friends in middle school were Jewish, and every weekend I won the limbo contest at someone's soiree, so I decided to have one of my 2009.

Bat Mitzvah.

Cool cats.

Arm wrestling with my cousin.

Dancin'. Dancin'. Dancin'.

Mazel Tov to Me!!

Major thanks to everyone who came out for my partay and made it a stellar event; I really do have the best group of homies a girl could ask for. After the dance-doodle fest in my apartment, some of us continued the night out at a bar shakin' to the juke box sounds of folks from the days of yore.

LOVE that expression.

Anyways, on our way home (at 4:00am) a bagel truck was making it's morning delivery. I hollahed to the guy in the truck, "Hey! It is my Bat Mitzvah! Can I have a bagel?"

And guess what?

Dude gave me a bag and let me take not one, but about 10 bagels!!!

We hugged because I was so overwhelmed by his generosity.

So, happy birthday to me, happy day to everyone in the world, we are all lucky to be here and I feel lucky to be embarking on yet another wild and crazy year.

And thanks, Mom, for dealing with a 10-pounder!!!!

Thursday, October 22, 2009


I hadn't seen my hilarious friend, Liam Daniel Pierce in quite some time, but a few weeks ago I was informed that he had been published in the New York Times.


This fact was confirmed when I read the article and then saw the man himself last weekend. I got very excited. Especially when I found out what his article was about: his experiences working as a gondolier in Central Park.

You must give his article a read and check out the blog he kept while he was out and about rowing various folks around while crooning tunes and being, well, hilarious.

Enjoy (and congratulations, Mr. P!)

Oh, How Romantic (Until the Pirate Attack)

Michelle V. Agins/The New York Times

AT THE OAR Liam Daniel Pierce, hoping that he never sees a marriage proposal bring a “no.”

Published: October 2, 2009

I DID not always see myself becoming a Central Park gondolier. But like many Americans, I also did not anticipate being cast into a purgatorial state of quasi-employment.

I graduated from a fancy East Coast university (Brown) a year ago and lost an internship at a prestigious publication (The New Yorker) because of budget cuts. From last June to this June, I tried my hand at nine different jobs — including dog-sitting, coffee-shop-cleaning, script-reviewing, inventory-counting and actually writing. Some were temporary by nature, others by will. Eventually, I returned to one of the odder entries on my résumé: rowing a 37-foot-long Venetian boat while singing “O Sole Mio.”

I come from what may be the premier Irish-American gondolier family in the world. I am the youngest of four brothers, and three of us have rowed gondolas on Lake Merritt in downtown Oakland, Calif., on and off for about 10 years. The outfit there, led by a man named Angelino who insisted on drinking wine while training, is superauthentic and super-romantic. Yet little could have prepared me for the immensity and bizarreness of love, New York style.

The Central Park gondola operation, run through the Boathouse restaurant, has been the province for 15 years of a man named Andrés, who worked seven days a week from May to October. It was a coincidence that he was looking for help — his painting career had started to take off — when I was looking for work. I was honored to be the first person in Andrés’s tenure allowed to row New York’s 45-year-old gondola, affectionately called “The Dry Martini.”

In the three months since I took up the oar, I have done more than 400 cruises, and a low-ball estimate is that 40 have been marriage proposals. (Sorry, no, you were not the first.) Anniversaries, first dates, birthdays: no problem. But proposals are nerve-racking. What do I do if she says no? Make someone swim?

Thankfully, I have not yet witnessed such a crushing rejection. But I certainly do not count each “yes” as a success.

Some proposals go immaculately, like the one on a Tuesday night in July that coincided with the New York Philharmonic’s concert in the park. Beethoven was filtering through the Ramble, and shortly after the night’s young hero got down on one knee beneath the Bow Bridge, fireworks exploded over the lake. The timing was not planned, but as his new fiancée was bawling out, “This is too perfect!” I could not help but feel that this couple was meant to be.

On the other end of the spectrum was the Casanova who showed up 15 minutes late to his own proposal. Halfway through the 30-minute, $30 cruise, he asked, “Hey, how long is this thing, anyway?” Incredulous to learn that it was about time to head back, he blurted: “Ah, forget it! Uh, will you marry me?” Then, while his bride-to-be called her mother with the news, Mr. Romantic turned and asked, “Hey, boss, know any cheap restaurants around here?”

Then there are those that never quite get off the water. In the middle of a cruise with a lovely South African couple, a rowboat approached carrying members of the pop band Chester French. They circled us, declared their fame then jumped on the gondola, crying out, “This is a pirate takeover!” (only with an unprintable modifier starting with “f” between “pirate” and “takeover”). Apparently they were shooting a music video. The situation struck me as slightly uncomfortable, until a week later, when a YouTube search of “Central Park gondola” brought up a hit titled “Chester French Postpones My Marriage Proposal.”

Rowing — while standing — is only part of the job. The gondolier is a professional third wheel: part marriage counselor, part wingman. So when a pair of preteenagers sporting Coke-bottle glasses and pants up to their bellybuttons sidled up, I expected that they would need help. I started in tour-guide mode: “This gondola was built in ...” when, with confounding authority, the girl said: “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We don’t need to hear it.” She turned to her 12-year-old Romeo, and the two proceeded to make out for the entire ride, glasses bumping, ignoring slack-jawed stares from other boats. This might have been my favorite cruise.

Flirtatious bachelorette parties are always good for an ego stroke, and parents often try to pawn their daughters off on me, which is very kind — except for the time when the daughter was in the boat, devastated. Perhaps my oddest invitation came from a Hasidic woman riding with her child. I did not think much of it when she said, “Yup, just a family day out on the boat, the whole family, just the two of us.” But after she rounded out our chitchat with comments about my using a “big pole” and by asking me how much muscle I was smuggling under my shirt, I was eager to get back to shore.

I have had raccoon squatters in the hull, a male client with a different date every Tuesday, a female client with a different date every other Thursday, the self-proclaimed “most romantic Yugoslavians in the world,” couples who have asked me to “park the boat” so they could get even more romantic, drunks, people who threaten to jump in and swim, 12 skinny hipsters at the same time, solo cruisers and an opera singer in tears. I have been assigned gondola baby-sitting duties. I have battled rowboat flotillas. I had a near run-in with Steve Guttenberg in a rowboat.

After three months, I have come to think of the gondola as a private Manhattan — longer than it is wide and surrounded by water, ferrying cross-sections of the city in perfect 30-minute intervals.

Liam Daniel Pierce, who lives in Brooklyn, has been writing about his adventures at centralparkgondolier.blogspot
, where there is a video of him singing “O Sole Mio.”


So my friend came over tonight to help me try and get some info from my old computer onto my new one, and I'll be damned if there are simpler ways to get your info than taking your giant 'puter machine into a Mac store, having some tween with a bad haircut tool around with it for 3 hours and then haul it home.


You just plug one thingamadooby into the other thingamadoodly and you click on the whizbit and drag it into the lollyzoo and poof! It is all there!

I had no idea it was so simple.

But, seriously, it has saved me a ton of time and now I know what to do in the future. I feel like a major techie now, which is like, so fierce.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009


I cannot believe that it is already nearing the end of October.

It is almost my birthday, it is almost the Ween of the Hallow, I have yet to carve anything resembling a pumpkin and I haven't gone to Central Park to look at the changing leaves.


I know.

Next week I will be entering a time period known as "Pseudo-Unemployment." This time period could also be called "Almost Totally Freaking Out" or "Somebody Please Hire Me For Anything" or "The Curse of Every Artist Everywhere Ever."

I have a feeling I will be blogging much more frequently because I will not be sitting in an office all day, but for the sake of us all, let us pray that I find something and that my blogging stays at a normal level.

In other news, I managed to get staple stuck in my middle finger today. That did not feel good.

And in other news besides that, I got to go to the opening night of Memphis last night on Broadway and had a smashing time. More on that when I have a brain that functions.

I am tuckered out and am going to hit the hay.

Sunday, October 18, 2009


The past two weekends have been cold and chilly, so naturally I have had an unshakable desire to go to the movies almost every night.

Last weekend I saw "Whip It." This past Saturday night I saw "Where the Wild Things Are."

Brief "Whip It" review: They whipped it good.
I thought it was extremely endearing, some truly funny moments, packed with lots of girl gusto, cliches did appear, but in general I really liked it. Jimmy Fallon and Andrew Wilson definitely were two of the highlights of the film. Who doesn't like Jimmy Fallon? I dare you to step up because the guy is solid gold. And Andrew Wilson made me pee my pants.

Brief "Where the Wild Things Are" review: Mehhhh.
The first 20 minutes of the movie are fantastic. The last 10 minutes of the movie are fantastic. The rest? I could do without. I almost fell asleep a few times, I thought it was a little lame, and I didn't feel very emotionally connected to those little/big guys. The kid that played Max? Fierce.

Tomorrow night I will be sitting in the Shubert Theatre for the opening night performance of Memphis. I am so completely excited to go with my dear friend, Miz Millah, who has worked so hard on this production behind the scenes. It truly is an incredible show, so buy your tickets because this thing is going to explode!

Friday, October 16, 2009


Dear Mr. Man Sitting Next To Me On The Crowded 6 Train Going Downtown Today:

I felt very lucky to have a seat on the train heading home from work, seeing as it was crowded and crazy and I was totally pooped after a long night last night and work today. You, my fellow passenger, seemed like a normal looking, sleepy middle aged man who happened to be taking a nap during your commute home. You weren't going to be loud because you were asleep, you weren't wearing headphones with explosive sounds rocketing out of them into my personal ear space, and you weren't eating some sort of crazy a** burrito that smelled like dead dogs. Three points for you; we were off to a strong start.

However, looks and sounds can be deceiving and your excellent beginning quickly took a turn for the worst (and cost me my seat). I know this all too well after realizing that in your state of total and utter relaxation, your rear was taking full advantage of your slumbering condition and silently releasing loads and loads of toxic air - a continuous stream, I would say - that was asphyxiating.

To put it bluntly: dude, you were ripping nostril burning farts the entire train ride almost in perfect rhythm with your breathing and you didn't even flinch.

I hope you're doing okay, I really do, because something was obviously wrong with your inner tubings. Maybe earlier you ate the burrito that smelled like dead dogs and hence the dead dogs you let come out of you at 4:00pm with uninterrupted gusto. Regardless, save that release for a private space, preferably one that has excellent ventilation and one that doesn't have me in it.

Thank you for your time.


Thursday, October 15, 2009


I was up later than normal last night with band practice at my apartment and tonight we have a show. We don't go on until 10 something and we're playing in Brooklyn, which means I probably won't get home until around 1am and then I have to get up and go to work.

I am going to be POOPED by the end of the day on Friday. But, as the chorus line folks (sorta) say, it is what we do for love.

And, I am worried about Amy Winehouse because apparently she had her ta-tas touched up and then decided to go sing, like the next day. Not smart, Wine-Wine.

PLEASE watch this video. It is beyond. At one point they cut away because Amy starts lifting up her skirt, she can't remember the "choreography" and apparently she is the girl's godmother?!! And, the hug at the end is obviously because Amy needs something to keep her upright. The new boobs are making her top heavy.

There are moments where I don't think she knows where she is.

I want that red outfit the female dancer is wearing. What IS that thing?!

Monday, October 12, 2009


No, really! My heat is on!

It is getting way chilly in New York and the season has officially started because today, I busted out my favorite fall piece of clothing:

My giant, blaze orange L.L.Bean hunting vest.

It is like, so totally my fave. I have had this puppy since my collegiate Maine days, it is so warm, so comfy, and I will never, ever get hit by a car or shot when I'm in it. And, if I do, the person who shoots or hits me will be so moronic that I will millions in the law suit...providing I am alive post hit/shooting.

In weather like this, I enjoy snuggling in my bed, reading, drinking copious amounts of warm liquids, and listening to soothing tunes by Chet Baker, Judy Garland, and Boyz II Men.

Kidding about the Boyz II Men.

Sorta. But, the dudes really did have some good numbers that most definitely provided me with some amazing slow dances in the 6th grade. They are the soundtrack to my middle school loves.

Um...just googled them to see what they were up to and apparently they have a new album coming out in November?! Who knew!

The temps may be dropping, but life is as hot as ever and my band, Rooftops, has a show on Thursday. The fellers were over tonight getting ready and we're going to have a great time playing and singing and whooping it up in a few days. More details on the show to come soon...

In the mean time, I hope you are all staying warm and dry. I hear there are some serious rain storms about to hit the Yay Area! Watch out!

I have to go find my gloves. I don't remember where I put them back in March...

Thursday, October 8, 2009


Miss Molly Anne Coogan.

That's right folks, I'm coming out.

This blog is about to get a whole lot more interactive, so get ready to have some fun.

And what better way to start us off on this glorious day of reveals than to let you see me in my underwear. Or, rather, various forms of ridiculousness in a short episode I wrote, produced, and acted in for the web-TV (or, as the kids are calling them "webisodes") series Hot Mess.

Please check it out. I hope you like it. More like, I hope you aren't terrified by it (aka me).

Hot Mess: Episode 6 "Crack Castle" from Hot Mess - A Webseries on Vimeo.


People get ready.

A change is gonna come on le blog tomorrow and I want you all to be here for it.

Stay tuned and get ready for something great to bring you into the weekend.

The New Kid


Sorry about that last post and thanks to my Muddah for letting me know that it wasn't working.

I had one helluva day that ended with me singing some licks for my friend who is working on his album, which was tres fun.

Also fun, is this photo that my Mom emailed me from back in the day:

I don't know why the frack I'm in a laundry basket, and my friend sure looks confused as well. I am eating half a pretzel and look like a sumo wrestler.

And, as my mom asked, "by the way...where are your legs?"

Good question, Ma. I have no idea.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


Today at work I managed to get about 15 paper cuts. I don't know what was going on, but the one on the side of my left hand hurts the most.


Today was also a gorgeous fall day, with a little nippity nip in the air. And with the rush of fall weather comes my intense love for fall vegetables, one mayjah one in particular:

Butternut Squash.

Or, as I like to call it "The B-Nut Squish."

It is so delicious and, really, in my book you can do no wrong with a b-nut squish. Fortunately for me, there is a little farmer's market right next to my apartment on Tuesdays so I can stock up mid-week after I run out from the weekend's market.

Tonight I will be roasting the squish with a medley of veggies along with another goodie:

The Sweet Potato.

Or, as I like to call it,

Sweetie Poteetie? Swingin' Po To? The Swizzie Potizzie?

Monday, October 5, 2009


Besides my herbalicous garden, the other thing I bought a few weeks ago was my very own frother thingamabob. Thingamabobs? I've got twenty!

I love chai, especially in l'autumn, but I think it is a tad bit ridonc to pay $4 every time I want one, so I decided IMMA MAKE IT MYSELF!

1. Get yoself a thang to make yo chai frothaaayy (available at various cafes, grocery stores, and houseware stores)

2. Get some milk or soymilk (I'm a soy girl because I'm kind of a lactard) and chai liquid mix (my fave is the Oregon chai)

3. Heat them together in whatever portion floats your boat (I am a 1:1)

4. Pour into a cup and froth to your liking and:

BAM! You got yourself one hot, tasty chai.

I'm drinking one right now and it is waaay frothaaaay.

Friday, October 2, 2009


I'm really excited because I have started my own herb garden.

No, no, you silly people. Not that kind.

This kind:

I bought my little plants at the farmer's market a few weeks ago and they are totally rockin' and rollin'. I've got rosemary, basil, and mint and who knows what I will add on.

I put the rosemary in my roasted veggies I made the other night; it was deeeeelish with my butternut squash, carrots, and onions. The basil has been superb in my omelets and the mint is fabulous in my tea!

I am thinking the mint will also be a nice addition to some vanilla ice cream....yum.

Thursday, October 1, 2009


Sometimes, as an actor in New York, I feel like this TV that was outside my building.

"I work. Please take me."


Ladies and Gentlemen, Tom Jones via Tiny Desk.