Missy Grynkiewicz

Biography

What do you get when you mix a cannibal pie maker, a preacher's wife and a Transylvanian servant? Just a few of the roles rising triple threat comedienne Missy Grynkiewicz has mastered.  After and a stint on the CBS morning show, having her Realize Records debut CD, “Miss Representation" picked up by Pandora radio and making the first round Grammy list, Missy is establishing herself as one of the nation's favorite female stand -ups. "J@!$um (In Your Hair)" the Artist's new single, set for release in March 2014, is a hilarious parody of the Pink Hit "Glitter".

Born and raised in Salisbury, Maryland and Milford, Delaware, an introverted Missy started acting and singing at the early age of three years old when Grynkiewicz’s mom forced her into a church choir in an effort to alleviate the bashfulness. It worked.  Missy began acting and singing all through school, but ultimately abandoned performing as an adult, opting instead for a career in teaching.  “When I started teaching, people would always say things like, 'I love your class because you’re funny.'  I thought if I can make English or Psychology 101 funny, maybe there is something to this,” says Missy.  While teaching, Missy was approached about auditioning for a musical theatre production; she did the audition and received her first professional role at the age of thirty eight.  When asked about the worst thing that has happened to her during a performance, Missy says, “It was the final performance for Rocky Horror and someone packed my costume away. Right before the big ending number, I found myself running around backstage naked. And to be clear I am 40 and naked. That's a really special kind of naked.”  To date Missy has performed in over twenty shows and has directed many, including directing and starring in the intense production Sweeney Todd. 

It was her comedic timing as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd that landed Missy an opening slot performing in front of comedienne and label mate Janice Kamalski during a taping of her reality show.  During the performance, executives from the record label and producers of the reality show were in the audience which led to the signing. “Myself and the other producer looked at each other after she finished her set and said she needs to do this for a living,” says Label CEO Michel Grey.

Grykiewicz’s debut CD “Miss Representation” was produced by Paul Lewis, producer of the hit comedy CD “I’m Not Playin'” by Sirius Radio regular Janice Kamalski.  Missy says of her comedy, “ It’s dry, I’m not a one liner kind-a gal, instead I tell stories about life,  just day -to- day stuff. I’m way too shallow to think about politics.” On her debut CD there was a mix of her influences like Ellen Degeneres, Goldie Hawn, Angela Lansbury and Patti LuPone and an intellect showcasing her spot on comedic timing. 

Currently Missy is gearing up to go into the studio to finish her sophomore CD which will consist of familiar song parodies.  Grynkiewicz will also continue to tour on the east coast, and is looking to expand to the west coast in the summer of 2014.  In response to a question about her fan base, Missy quips, “I have at least ten. I am hoping for a stalker who appreciates my love of chocolate.”  Whether performing in a musical, singing in a cabaret or doing stand up, Missy’s comic magnetism along with her off- the- cuff style has made her a sought after commodity, taking audiences on a unique, unforgettable journey.  On her future in comedy Grynkiewicz says, “There's something amazing about connecting with an audience through the shared experience of life and laughter.  Yup, I think being in a room full of people laughing with you is about as happy as it gets without ice cream. I am so looking forward to that connection with many folks who'd like to share a giggle or two.”  As Missy dives into her future one thing is for certain, she will leave a growing number of smiling faces and rooms full of laughter as she explores her new paths.  She has just begun to scratch the surface so keep watching, it’s about to get interesting.  

Blog

  • Oct 06, 2014

    I Think Its A Trick

    I bought some new make up today. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but clearly I’m expecting some sort of miracle, as I paid $62.50 for it, “it” being a tube of something that claims it is going to “exactly match my skin.”  Now that I think about it, I think it’s a trick.  After all, my opinion of my skin as it currently looks is what spurred me on to buy make up in the first place, so I’m thinking that the fact that it will “exactly” match my skin” may not be it’s best quality.  Seriously, how did THAT become its big selling point, people?  If we are going to “exactly match our skin,” why the heck do we need it?  Our skin is exactly what we see as the problem, and we have let ourselves be tricked into thinking that what we need to fix our skin is something that, well, looks exactly like our skin. Why do I fall for that?  People, please.  If you see me fall for clothes that try to convince me to buy them because they “exactly match my naked body, “ stop me.

  • Nov 27, 2013

    Better Homes And What?

    Somehow, I have ended up on the receiving end of a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens magazine.  How this honor was bestowed upon me, I’m not sure. But it keeps showing up, this monthly reminder of my inadequacies as a person who is not the least bit concerned with better homes or even the very existence of a garden.  I’m not sure why I keep leafing through it, this pretentious pusher of ideas for making decorative vases out of gourds and snow globe centerpieces out of stray socks. All it does is make me feel insecure about my lack of interest in crafting of all types, and my bucket of crap to feel insecure about is already pretty full, thank you very much.   What is it about magazines that make us feel that the pages within will offer us some insight as to how our lives will be more fulfilled and more organized if we pay attention to the advice offered by writers who are also probably feeling just as unfulfilled and unorganized as their target demographic? I don’t know, but I’m not going to let myself keep feeling this way. So damn you, Better Homes and Gardens! Keep your crafting, cooking, and gardening tips to yourself. I’m going to put you in the pile of stuff in intend to recycle when I’m not too busy to get organized, and I’m going to feel fine about myself . Well, I’m going to feel fine about myself until the Victoria Secret catalog arrives…

  • Jun 20, 2013

    My Knee

    I know that I am getting older, and that is fine. In fact, there are many ways in which it is downright liberating.  But I HATE what’s happening to my knees. The crackling and creaking and strange changes in range of motion are disconcerting. Add to that an old injury that contributes to the wear and tear of one of the dastardly joints, and I have a right knee that is actually about 87 years old in, well, knee years. As a result, I’ve been hobbling around and experiencing pain. Which is interfering with my exercise habits.  Now, I should mention that another part of the aging thing is an increased need for the aforementioned exercise habits, as it turns out my body only needs about 17 calories a day to live, and my muscles go slack if I miss a day of Jazzercise.  So the knee thing is REALLY disruptive.  According to the x rays and the doctor who read them, I have lots and lots of bone spurs AND arthritis.  The “good” news is that there is apparently something that can be INJECTED INTO MY KNEE CAP to make it feel better.  Oh goody. But hey, I’ll take it- sign me up!!!!  But this is America, I have health insurance, and it’s not that simple.  First, the insurance company people (who have never actually observed my knee) have to decide if they agree with the orthopedic doctor (who has indeed observed my knee) and will pay for the injection.  Then and only then can I schedule the appointment to have the stuff jammed into my knee.  So after studying paperwork, the insurance company folks have decided (after a week, during which I’ve been in pain, braced, and hobbling) that the injection is a good idea. Yay! I will call the doctor to schedule the procedure!!!! But nope- again, not that simple. You see, apparently, the insurance company does not want the doctor to use the drug he already has in stock in his office in my knee. They will only ship the EXACT SAME MEDICATION to MY HOME.  Because clearly a person with no medical training whatsoever is the best choice to send injectable drugs to.  And for this shipment of medication, the doctor’s office that already has the drug and is eventually going to put it in my knee must fax the insurance company to authorize them to send another dose to my home. Which will take about 10 days.  Now, I have questions. WHO set up this system, first of all?  WHY do I have to have medication that can only be administered by a physician delivered to my home?  HOW can any of this be cost effective? And WHAT is going to happen as the rest of me falls apart?   To be continued…

  • Apr 22, 2013

    Decisions... Decisions...

    Oh good, spring is here! Which I am thrilled about in all respects except for one: getting dressed.  First of all, I’m not ready for any of my parts to show yet.  Please note that by “parts”, I mean arms and legs. They’re not ready. Hours and hours of Jazzercise and occasional denial of a potato chip craving have been fairly helpful, but my parts are still not where I think they should be.  So I’m having a hard time selecting clothes that are seasonally appropriate in appearance, but offer coverage much like those I’d wear when visiting a religiously conservative Middle Eastern nation.  Of course, I have nothing suitable in my actual collection of clothes, so I stand frowning at myself, wondering if bigger hair will make my arms look less like thighs…

  • Dec 17, 2012

    Ordinary Day

    There's a lot to be said for an ordinary day. An ordinary day with no show, no appointments, no elaborate plans, just a normal, uneventful day. An ordinary day is what I was having when I heard the news of the unspeakable tragedy Newtown, Connecticut.   While I was wondering about the mundane issues such as what to wear, what to eat, what to work on, what homework to grade, what presents to buy, and who to confront about the lack of toilet paper on the roll in the downstairs bathroom, there were those who were in the throes of a horror I cannot begin to wrap my brain around.  I can only let myself even try to imagine the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School for fleeting moments; any more than that levels me completely.  I am blessed to be in my ordinary day.  And I am wishing, hoping, and praying for some semblance of peace, healing, and strength for those people whose loss is beyond measure.   Those lost in this most heartbreaking act of senseless violence will hold a special and revered place in the hearts of so many, mine among them, forever.  Please, let us be good to each other.

  • Dec 11, 2012

    Yes I Am That Lazy

    So I have been wearing a skirt sideways all day.  See, I didn’t really pay attention to how the skirt went on after the battle with the twisted tights with holes in the toes that I’d wrestled my way into prior to any skirt application.  And after deciding that I could totally get away with the stain on my sweater buy using the “oh wow, that must have just happened trick”, even though the stain has been present for over a year now, the skirt just seemed like the easy part.  Sigh.  It’s sideways placement unnoticed by me until I removed it, wondering about the odd new location of the slit.  I’m wondering if I wear in the correct direction tomorrow, will anyone notice it’s the same one I had on today? Yes, I am that lazy.

     

  • Nov 25, 2012

    I Do Not Cook

    I do not cook. And I don’t understand how millions of people seem to take on the task, as often as three times a day without losing their minds, blowing something up, or punching a hole in the wall. First of all, where does the TIME to cook come from? Seriously. By the time I am showered, dressed, fed dogs, changed clothes after being jumped on by said fed dogs, remembered to tell the kids to get up, packed up like a Sherpa to teach middle school, the idea of COOKING is downright comical.  Not just breakfast, either. People I have met have already considered DINNER before leaving for work.  And you know what? That just pisses me off.  Because I am celebrating the fact that I found a left AND a right shoe that match each other, and anything beyond that would just be showing off. So when I tell my kids to “grab something” and go, I clearly do NOT measure up to the women I know who walk into work not only with matching shoes, but regaling tales of the herb crusted chicken they are actually EXCITED about to make for dinner…. And they also COOKED breakfast and PACKED lunch. Who ARE these people?  Now, understand that my kids are old enough to figure this out on their own… If by the age of 12, you are hungry and can’t figure out what to do about it, you don’t necessarily deserve to live.  The way I see it, it’s a pretty basic thing. Hungry? Well, eat. I do not see why I need to be involved in the process. Is that so wrong????

     

  • Nov 21, 2012

    Almost Thanksgiving

    Thanksgiving is almost here. Oh good. Yet another day for which I can prepare to feel completely inadequate. This is because not only do I not cook, I don’t have anything to offer to the conversations everyone else is having about the aforementioned cooking. I don’t understand any of the lingo; words like “thaw” and “baste” and “pan drippings” and “oven” completely elude me. So I feel like a dud, pressed to make some observations about the anticipated price of gas for the holiday weekend or the joy of eating real butter instead of margarine on special occasions. But the conversation always goes back to who’s cooking what, so I pretend to be impressed and interested, when really I just wonder when these people all figured out how to do this stuff. And perhaps more importantly, WHY? It is with horror that I realize THEY have to do it to feed the people like ME.

  • Apr 11, 2012

    Shallow Musings

    I am amazed at how much I have to say about stuff that means so little.  If questioned about politics, religion, global warming and the economy, I can often blurt out 2 or 3 meaningful sentences, or maybe even mention some sort of statistic.  But that will be it. I can’t engage in insightful banter, persuade anyone to see it my way, or even score well on a multiple choice test on the subject.  However, utter the words “exercise” or “spandex” in my presence, and I become downright prolific, perhaps even capable of filibuster.  Even just typing those words inspired me to let my mind wander for a moment, thinking about how much less spandex I would need if I were to exercise and how strange it is that those were the first two words I thought of when thinking of, well, words I think of.  And how amazing it would be if I stopped typing and actually got up off the couch, donned some sort of supportive spandex, and spent a moment or two exercising.  I, of course, have no intention of actually doing that, as it’s too close to bed time and I can’t possibly be convinced that NOW is a good time to go through with such a massive undertaking.  The very idea of pouring myself into exercise gear to work up a sweat is about as attractive as the idea of wrestling a squid, and not altogether that different.  Add to that my general disdain for being out of breath and hot and sore and seeing my life flash before my eyes as I try to execute a push up or two, and I will ramble on for hours. So maybe I’m not a particularly deep thinker. I’m not even a particularly toned thinker. But I am indeed an admirer of the wandering mind; if I didn’t let it wander, I never would have known that I am as shallow as I am.  For the most part, I am completely ok with that.  So don’t ask me about politics or global warming, unless you want to hear about my lack of fitness goals and supportive undergarments.

  • Feb 20, 2012

    Grammys and Binoculars

    Grammys? Sure, I’d LOVE to go to there!!!!!!

    If I had known it was in the universe’s plan to have me attend the Grammys this year, I would have spent more time exercising and less time napping. At least, I’d like to think so. But you know what’s pretty cool?  I took myself, as is, and not one single person at the event screamed in horror at what my 44 year old body looks like in a strapless cocktail dress. With silver Converse on my feet, no less. Hey, I had pretty shoes with me; I just opted to CARRY them versus WEAR them.  Because after about 4 steps in those babies, I would have toppled over, surely scraping my knees and spilling out of the aforementioned strapless cocktail dress.  But I digress.  Because the actual point is that I got to attend the Grammys this year!!!!!!! Which is pretty amazing, right up there with losing-10-pounds-without-trying-or-being- ill amazing.  Maybe even MORE amazing, since my grandchildren won’t care to hear about the time Granny’s weight plummeted effortlessly.  But Granny at the Grammys? THAT is a much better story…

    First of all, I, Missy Grynkiewicz, boarded a plane. Without passing out, hyperventilating, crying, or throwing up.  As a matter of fact, as I normally do when experiencing major amounts of stress, I napped.  And woke up in LA.  Which has never happened to me before, so it was pretty neat. I caught a cab and very much enjoyed conversing with it’s driver, who was incredibly warm and welcoming until we reached the police inhabited, blocked off street to my hotel. Where he stopped and directed me to “get out here”.  Which was a little startling and odd.  So I stood on a corner of a street in downtown LA, clutching my suitcase on wheels, purse, and pink pillow.  It was a long walk around the police blockade, curious on lookers, and bomb squads to get to my hotel, but (alas) I made it.  And was immediately in need of another nap.

    The next morning, aka Grammy Day, consisted of the most amazing massage and body wrap I’ve ever had; it even induced a small amount of drooling.  Then, a walk around the Staples center and surroundings while clutching a cup of coffee was delightful, though not as drool-worthy as the massage.  Many have inquired as to whether I saw any celebrities on this jaunt.  My answer is, I have no idea.  I did see some folks who looked familiar, but they were looking at me as if I may be familiar as well…I think we were all just looking and wondering at that point.

    Getting ready to go to the actual event was remarkably fun! I played with my hair and makeup with enthusiasm usually reserved for people who, well, are enthusiastic about playing with hair and makeup.  AND I didn’t even have to call concierge for help to zip my dress, though I do wish I was in possession of a video recording of the elaborate antics I performed to step into, zip, spin, and pour myself into the get up. THAT was exhausting, much like wrestling a squid wearing rhinestones.

    And off I went, wearing dress and Converse, carrying high heels, binoculars, and a sparkly purse.  Which felt completely normal, until the CBS This Morning show stopped me for an interview about the passing of the amazing Whitney Houston.  At a time like that, one tends to wish one wasn’t clutching shoes and binoculars. I hope Ms. Whitney got a kick out of that scene. I know my aunts that saw me on TV the next day sure did.

    So the event itself? I am amazed at my own level of, well, amazement.  I mean, that was quite a show to behold, quite a crowd to exist in! And the moments that dreams, memories, and inspirations grow from.  From my seat, almost at as high an altitude at which I’d flown into LA, I was electrified by the performances, energy, and magic of the 54th Grammys.  I was THERE. And you know what? The sneakers and binoculars sure were a happy thing.

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  • Hospital - Miss Representation
    Artist: Missy Grynkiewicz
  • Teacher - Miss Representation
    Artist: Missy Grynkiewicz
  • The Zoo - Miss Representation
    Artist: Missy Grynkiewicz
  • Hello 'Gina - Miss Representation
    Artist: Missy Grynkiewicz

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