Guest Blogger, Michele Medlin Laikowski: Underachiever

sc009d2f09A few weeks ago, I asked my best friend Michele if she would be interested in doing a guest blog. Lucky us, she said yes.  She is a funny, talented actress and writer and she’s also the subject of one of my first blogs.  Also, she is a wonderful wife and mother and the second most popular person I know on Facebook.  And not for nothing, she is a person on whom I can and do always depend.  Enjoy:

In an effort to show the world that I am no better than you, despite all reports, I just went into the executive bathroom at work with a roll of packing tape and tried to “wax” my upper lip.  You see, I’m 42 and at 42, I discovered that I now get mustaches.  Late bloomer, some would say, except that I’m a 42 year old woman so I say right-on-time bloomer. 

I’m sitting at my desk, which is in a cube, hoping that people will avoid talking to me for the next hour or so as my lip goes from the crimson I just made it to my usual pallor, at the same time exacerbating things by pulling at that one VERY black hair.  You say eww, I say, eew too.  It’s really gotten out of control. 

And here’s the reason I didn’t just pluck it like a normal. Because my dam ass husband used my dam ass tweezers to superglue some dam ass super hero figurine back together after my dam ass kid broke it—the figurine, not the tweezers.  The result is that my tweezers now have super glue residue, which is not conducive to getting that one very black wiry hair on the left part of my lip. 

Which leads me to the whole reason I’m writing. I have a tendency to blame others for my failings as a person.  I just saw this buzzfeed or nerdist or something blah blah (lifehack) that listed 13 reasons I’m not successful, and one of the reasons is that I blame others for me not succeeding. 

Now I blame that stupid post by whoever (lifehack) that I haven’t succeeded because maybe if I hadn’t taken the time to read it, I would have sent an agent something that would make them reconsider their decision to cast me aside with the words “Move to LA; you’ll be successful there.”  NOW I AM BLAMING THE AGENT!  And, yet, lifehack, you’re right.  I am lazy. I blame. I am fearful. I don’t want it enough. I do a lot of social BS (are having babies social bs? [is this a blame]). I make excuses (is the fact that I have children a blame or an excuse? are blames and excuses the same?) and don’t BELIEVE.  There are thirteen reasons for my lack of success, and I don’t feel like all 13 apply, but I do feel like I’m in my own dam ass way…not my husband and the ruination of my tweezers or my baby who has yet to sleep through the night even though he’s 13 months and totally should by now or my four-year-old who has the potential to be funnier than I am, but me, Michele O Medlin Laikowski, I am to blame. 

So, I’m going to go back to pursing my dreams of being a voice over star, and I’m going to run that half marathon that I signed up for, and I’m going to be a better mother. Just as soon as I get 8 hours sleep.


For more Michele Medlin, check out her blog at

Ray Barnhart Likes Girls

It’s hard to believe it’s been five years since I posted this video. This is from a night I produced called Ray Barnhart Likes Girls. Five of my favorite storytellers (Sarah Taylor, Rebecca O’Brien, Amy Scribner, Traci Swartz and Linda Bailey Walsh) joined me to share tales of the relationship between gay men and their straight female counterparts. It was a fun night and the rush I felt at the end of the evening I still carry with me. My best friend Michele is still my best friend Michele and it’s exciting to think about how much her life has changed since 2008. She is the busy mother of two toddlers, at least one of whom has inherited his parents’ performing gene. Her husband Stan is no longer new on the scene and he has turned out to be as special as I suspected he might be. And me, my life has changed in a few ways, too, but I’m still the kind of guy who can spend a Friday night in front of the computer drinking chardonnay, eating pizza rolls and reliving a favorite memory.