Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
And now I will let myself go to the closing, because now they're closing with some honor. They're going down swingin', so to speak. As I was lying in bed last night, one thought crossed my mind, "This isn't their time. Something isn't right here. They're not closing on Sunday." And lo and behold, their time it was not. Of course, it's only a week, but this is not over yet. At last, finally, god damn it, there is hope.
This is the most wonderful birthday present I could ask for.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
I love those bitches.
But I also love Ragtime.
This shit is messed up.
I'm eating pizza.
While wearing a big Snuggie.
Suck on that bitches.
Ragtime is closing.
This is not okay with me.
Wicked should close now.
I love Stewie G.
He wants to kill his mother.
That's not very nice.
I like Cabaret.
It has Nazis and Hitler.
They are not nice guys.
I love Alice R.
She has red hair and blue eyes.
She is weird sometimes.
Vivien Leigh yay
She was good as Blanche DuBois
In the Streetcar film
P. LuPone - scary
She yells at the audience.
Stop taking pictures.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Don't ask me if I'll be at closing. I was just told that I owe it to them, and I owe it to myself. What complete and utter bullshit. I'm not going. Screw all the sentimental loyalty crap, because nobody cares about that. Nobody cared when it was running, and now nobody will care about the closing. One more person that doesn't care will not make a difference.
So here is what I know now - Christiane Noll was unbelievable. The whole show was lovely. There are no other shows left that I really care about.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
And now this selfish bitch knows what she wants for her birthday! Okay, here's my confession - I am a closeted Kacie Sheik fan. A really really BIG Kacie Sheik fan. God help me, I think she is the best part of Hair. The last time I saw it, I sat stuffed into my mezzanine seat and basically watched her for the entire show. We got word today that she's playing Joe's Pub on February 15. Caissie Levy and her weave will be there too, but I can take or leave her. But I am excited. I can't remember the last time I was actually excited. The past few months have been blah. Happy as hell, but blah.
I'm starting to think about my new year's resolutions. So far I've come up with:
1. Stop saying son of a bitch.
2. Cut back on the blue Powerade.
That's it. It's not that I think I'm a perfect person. It's just that there's nothing else I'm really willing to give up. See? I'm b-b-bad to the bone. Not really. I'm sitting here in my purple bedroom eating frozen cream puffs. That should give you an idea of just how quickly I'm going to hell.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
So I recently got a request to post a Christmas list for this year. Truth is, I started a few posts with that intention, and I abandoned them all. I'm not gonna get all Allison Case-ish on you and say that I don't want anything for myself. I think we all know by now that I sure as hell do. I want to see Night Music. I want Ragtime, Hair, and Next to Normal to be running this time next year. I want, I want, I want. And I hate myself for wanting, because that is insanely selfish. Let's see if the old girl can redeem herself.
Here's the truth - I would give up every Christmas present I've ever gotten if I could be happy for the rest of my life. I want to be happy, and I want to be free. And I want that for you, too. One of my favorite sayings - "Keep going and believe, every second of every day, that it will come to good in the end." So, um, do that. And more I cannot wish you. Blessings on your head. Cream puffs and cheesecake are good for the soul. Life IS a cabaret. Merry Christmas to all and to all shut the hell up.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
So I saw Hair on Thursday. And it was empty. Ridiculously empty. From my seat in the seventh row of the mezzanine, I could tell that the entire rest of the mezz was completely empty. Really. Not a goddamn soul up there. That said, it is still a wonderful show. I let myself loose, screamed, laughed, and danced. Normally I am very careful not to disturb people, but the sad truth was that there really wasn't anybody to disturb. It is still the same show. Will Swenson is still wonderful, Gavin Creel's wig is still not good, and Kacie Sheik still uses a voice that sounds absolutely nothing like her real speaking voice. But then it is not the same show. Something is missing. An audience, perhaps? Hang on, darlings. You can make it through the winter.
I got my very first experience with audience interaction. Hannah Shankman caught me singing along to Ain't Got No Grass. She climbed the railing in front of me and started screaming the song in my face and thrashing her head. I got frazzled, forgot the words, and stopped singing. She stopped singing and we stared at each other for a moment before she awkwardly climbed down and walked away. It was so epic and uncomfortable.
Will Swenson decided to choose a sixteen-year-old girl as his mother and proceed to make out with her in front of the entire theatre. I want to be Will Swenson's mom. Other than that, there's really nothing to say except that Allison Case's replacement is her in every way, shape and form. She sings like her. She sounds like her. She looks like her. There was one point where I couldn't tell that it wasn't her. But she is wonderful. She is better at being Allison Case than Allison Case is.
I ran down to the stage, as always. By myself. And I danced. By myself. Kacie Sheik complimented my peacock feather earrings. I elected not to tell her that they were Lenora's. Since I had shoved daisies into my hair and down my shirt, the new Allison Case stopped me as I went down the stairs.
Girl Who is a Better Allison Case Than Allison Case: "Oh, I love your flowers!"
Girl Who is a Better Allison Case Than Allison Case: "Can I give you a hug?"
That was also epic and uncomfortable.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Four days to Ragtime. I am excited, to put it mildly. Apparently Monday is Alice Ripley's birthday? Let's see...popping over to Imdb...ah, yes. The talented Ms. Ripley is going to be 46. A blessing on her head. Mazel tov. Mazel tov.
Jebus, I love Tevye's Dream.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
I love lists. Listverse.com is epic. So, why not include another list right away? I know you just love it when I do crap like this. Hmm...Got it. My favorite Broadway performers, living and dead, whether I have actually seen them live or not!
John Gallagher Jr.
Lin Manuel Miranda
Sherie Renee Scott
Brian Stokes Mitchell
And many more. Wow. A part of me is amazed that I had the patience to type all those. Anywho, while I'm in a listy mood, might as well clack out my least favorites.
There now. That was fun.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
So it's Saturday morning. I'm not particularly fond of Saturdays. It's just a stop to all the running around I do during the week. And I thrive on running around. The only good Saturdays I've ever had have been the ones I spent in a theatre. Still, my show day is usually Sunday. I can't tell you how much I resent that. Really, is there anything more depressing than seeing a show and knowing you can't stay up late that night, marveling at what you have seen?
So in a few hours I've got to prettify myself for a sweet sixteen. Here's what I think - it's lots of fun to get dressed up, but that's not what humans are meant for. We are all most beautiful in our natural state. As Alice Ripley said, "If they say we're not then f-ck 'em."
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
I'll be there at least once during this month. Make them hear you, right? Of course right. I will go see Ragtime, this show I love so much, and I will stand and scream and cheer and make them hear me. This show did not live long enough to gain a really loyal fan base. But there was a small one, at least. And I was one of them.
But here's the truth - there are worse things than this. Of course I'm very upset. I'm livid. I'm disillusioned. But still, there are worse things than this. All hope is not lost. I can still go see it. I'm sure you can infer by now that this revival means the world to me.
But what? In my ten-minute break that I took between paragraphs, I shot downstairs and got myself two tickets for next weekend. Like I said, I wasn't letting this one get by me. So, who's ready for a Ragtime blitzkrieg? I am, as you know, a mezzanine crawler. So my fourth row tickets are a rare treat. But that will not be all. In the weeks to come I will get to the Neil Simon as much as I possibly can. I don't care where I sit, cause this is freaking Ragtime. And since my birthday is conveniently three days after the purported closing, I'm thinking there is no other way I'd rather celebrate a new year and a birthday.
Well, so that's that. Ragtime is closing. Serves me right for being so awful about Birdie, I guess. Anyway, I'm still here, no one has died, and Obama is still president. Oh, Ragtime. I salute you. God be with you. I will miss you.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
25. Eva Peron - Evita
24. Tracy Turnblad - Hairspray
23. Mimi - Rent
22. Jeanie - Hair
21. Mother - Ragtime
20. Maria - West Side Story
19. Roxie and Velma - Chicago
18. Amy - Company
17. Big Edie - Grey Gardens
16. Little Edie - Grey Gardens
15. Sheila - Hair
14. Joanne - Company
13. Desiree - A Little Night Music
12. Louise - Gypsy
11. Eponine - Les Miz
10. Diana - Next to Normal
9. Dot - Sunday in the Park
8. Dolly - Hello, Dolly
7. Fanny Brice - Funny Girl
6. Anita - West Side Story
5. Maria - The Sound of Music
4. Adelaide - Guys and Dolls
3. Mrs. Lovett - Sweeney Todd
2. Rose - Gypsy
1. Sally Bowles - Cabaret
Okay, so maybe Rose should have gotten the top slot. She's every girl's dream role. But as for Sally - there's just so much there. All Rose has to do is be domineering and then have a nervous breakdown. Sally's gotta show that slow cracking, the seams splitting, all the while acting like a little girl. And her breakdown has to be terrifying for both her and the audience. Rose just has to scream and scare the hell out of the audience. And that's why Sally gets the top slot. Suck on that, Arthur Laurents.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
I already told you all that I've been commissioned to review the school's production of Once Upon a Mattress. They told me I'm only allowed to say nice things. Damn it, folks, where's the fun in that, I ask you? Anyway, before I get to my writing my first draft, here it is: What I Really Thought.
Queen: You're a talentless hack. There is no hope that you will ever change.
Winnifred: Of course you're talented, and you apparently know that. Watch your vibrato. Yes, we all know you're pretty. There is no need to turn to face the audience to say every single line. Subtlety, child.
Dauntless: You did your best with a crappy character.
King: You were actually very good. I would hope this has nothing to do with the fact that you did not have to speak until the very end.
Minstrel: It was a little high for you, but you're very talented.
Larken: Dear Lenora, please understand that you don't have to throw your voice to play a character well. You're not Kacie Sheik. Also, watch your diction. I was very impressed by your delivery of your very first line. It felt really genuine.
Chorus: Each and every one of you needs to stop vying so desperately for attention. You're in the chorus for a reason.
Everybody: You guys had a horrible director. I thought you pulled it off. Moderately.
See? I can be vaguely positive. So I went to Boston this weekend, to check out Emerson College. And I love it there. I am not going anywhere else, because there are some things you just know. My parents are pushing me to look at other colleges. I will do it to humor them, but here's what I think - What difference does that make? In the end, I can only go to one. I actually ended up seeing Fiddler while I was there, and it was very good. But Emerson is a place where parties consist of beer and pizza on the floor of the black box while you run scenes. It's a place where the kids argue over whether their cabaret tribute to Alice Ripley should be more SIDE SHOW or Next to Normal centric. (I swear to God. At the moment I heard that, the decision was made.) When I went to their bookstore to get The Glass Menagerie, the guy behind the counter told me to skip it because Streetcar was better. I think I almost had a seizure. I love you, Emerson bookstore dude. I'll look you up once I get there. Wait for me in all your Williamsian glory. I also walked into a dorm only to be thrust into the middle of two girls having a heated argument over the potential of August: Osage County to become a classic. How did I get so God-damned lucky? I mean, this school fits me so well it's scary.
So, my darlings, it's today. Ragtime's opening night. I wish them all the luck, love and long-runningness in the world. Still, I am not blind to the fact that Phantom 2 is looking at the Neil Simon. I say Phantom 2 can suck it, cause ain't nobody gonna top my beautiful Ragtime.
Forgot to add that I got a teddy bear up in Boston. I named him Bean. Bean is the name of a cat in the story I'm working on. I don't particularly like writing about animals. I think in my entire writing career several characters have had: a cat named Bean, a French bulldog named Mousseline, a Bichon Frise named Katy, a bird named Beaky, a bunny named Arizona, a Lhasa Apso named Claire, fish named Jeannie and Amber, two dogs named Texas (short for Texas Chainsaw Massacre) and Mangler, and a horse named Punch. I'm sure there's more, but their respective stories were never finished. Oh, well. Off to bed.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Lenora's playing Lady Larken in Once Upon a Mattress. Until this morning, I really wasn't that familiar with that one. I think by now I can call myself a fan of musical drama, and saying I don't like comedy all that much would be a fair assumption. I'm not gonna dress this up pretty. After watching the 2005 movie version on Youtube, I have no especially high opinion of the show. In all honesty, this is what I think - it's trite, empty, and foolish with a score that nobody will remember as a lost gem of the theatre. But is it really what I think that matters? After all, that's no reflection on Lenora, she didn't write the show. But it does seem to me that it's going to take an awful lot of effort on the part of 25 lowly highschoolers to make this thing work. The book is exceptionally weak and brimming with pratfalls. Anyone not willing to make a fool of themselves need not apply.
BUT. I did like Lady Larken quite a bit. True, she's a bit one dimensional, but this is Once Upon a Mattress. If I wanted fully developed characters I'd look to something by Williams or Ibsen. Of course, she's a stock character, the token "cute friend." Between you and me, that's always been my favorite archetype. Think about it. Some of the world's greatest characters have been sidekicks- Melanie Wilkes, Beth March, Stella Kowalski, etc. etc. etc. And anyway, everyone in this show is based upon some kind of archetype, right down to the evil queen and the dumbass, weak-willed prince.
I just wish the damn school could put on a play that's vaguely substantial next year.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I'm super excited for Halloween.
And there are less than 24 hours to go. I wish the cast and crew of Ragtime the absolute best in this second venture to Broadway. Please, everyone go see this wonderful show. You won't regret it. Let the new day dawn, the new era begin, and let's hear that ragtime piano that I love so much.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Even the Prologue alone is a work of art. That little piano theme, the "bah dup bah dup bah da da" that repeats itself throughout the whole show, is ingenious. What a Game is hilarious and Wheels of a Dream is heartbreaking, and Atlantic City is utterly hummable. Just some of the gems from a score that knocks it out of the park.
Before I go, I thought I'd mention that Next to Normal is actually beating Hair percentage-wise. I hope Hair can hang on, but go, little sleeper hit, go.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
On a similar note, I've updated my fall roster. My list of prospective shows for this fall now includes:
The Royal Family
God of Carnage
Next to Normal
Santa Claus, take your pick.
I think today I will be dragging Maisie to the movies with me. Last week we saw Whip It, which was, for the record, great. Ellen Page is my freaking hero. This week's movie du jour is Paranormal Activity. I'm not really into horror movies, but I want to see for myself if it's really that scary. It's pretty easy to scare me, and I love scaring other people. I once hid in my grandmother's closet for two hours just to scare my brother when he went to get his coat. Two hours spent smelling mothballs and trying not to laugh were worth it just to hear the scream. I'm hopelessly immature.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
1. Go to Amsterdam.
2. Play : Sally Bowles
3. See Ragtime.
4. Live long enough to see Wicked close.
5. Get yelled at by Patti LuPone.
6. Meet someone who is actually named Frank Mills.
7. Not be absolutely awful at the piano.
8. Bike the World's Most Dangerous Road.
10. Go parasailing.
11. Own a bunny.
12. Time travel.
13. Meet: Barack Obama, Olivia de Havilland, Stephen Sondheim, Hal Prince, and Liza
14. Learn French.
15. Some day see a Spring Awakening revival.
...and one for Mahler. Okay, so I don't actually know if this 'we're all getting burned to a crisp' thing is true. But still. I have some bad news. You are going to die. And I am going to die. The one thing I always tell myself is, "Start by admitting from cradle to tomb, it isn't that long a stay." Indeed it is not. Plan accordingly.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
1. A month until Ragtime starts previews.
2. Three years since the second time I saw Hairspray.
3. Lansbury officially going into Night Music.
4. Three years since I first discovered Colony. I would be a very un-sheet musicked person if I didn't.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
So Sunday's the flea market, and the unofficial start to my winter Broadway season. I haven't booked anything yet, but I'm thinking this is what's gonna be on the docket:
Streetcar with Cate Blanchett
A Little Night Music
Next to Normal
As you can see, I'm going pretty deep and dark this time around. And, much as I'm fighting it, I know sooner or later I'm going to end up at Bye Bye Birdie. This is not okay with me.
Next: The 39 Steps is finally closing. I don't wish harm on anybody or any show, but I will say this: About freaking time. On another note, it was confirmed today that Angela Lansbury is going to be in Night Music. I am so happy I could just jump up and click my heels together. Except I won't, because I know for a fact I can't do that. Seriously. I tried it once, and it didn't end well.
Yesterday afternoon, I made the fatal mistake of telling someone I've never seen Beauty and the Beast. I think this person is now convinced that I had a deprived childhood. Trust me, folks, I didn't. Baby Blogger was too busy belting Tomorrow from Annie and traipsing around the living room to You Gotta Get a Gimmick to pay much attention to stuff other kids liked. This is kind of embarrassing: When I was five I wanted to be a stripper because my parents let me watch Gypsy. I made my mom get me a plastic trumpet so I could be like Miss Mazeppa, and at Christmas I would hang ornaments on myself and pretend to be Miss Electra. Jeez. Childhood was great.
So, in order to satiate the crowds who are calling for my cinematic blood, here it is: The List of Movies I've Never Seen
Beauty and the Beast
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
It's a Wonderful Life
It Happened One Night
anything from Star Wars, Rocky, or Indiana Jones
I don't feel particularly deprived. By the time I was six I was watching The Sound of Music and Bye Bye Birdie. I don't consider missing out on 'classic' Disney movies to be that great a loss. Whatever. I saw Streetcar at a very young age, and that is all the movie I've ever needed.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The sun is really shining in today. And so, the little voice in my head is repeatedly chanting, "GoseeHairgoseeHairgoseeHairgoseeHair." But that ain't gonna happen, because I'm not that lucky. That might not happen, but something is. I don't know what it is, but it is gonna be great. Thanks for that, Mr. Sondheim.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Great picture right? I don't know why I've never seen it before. It's a perfect combination of My Favorite Color and My Favorite Person Who Ever Lived. Yay for Vivien Leigh. Yay for purple.
So I recently read and watched The Crucible. Let me tell you this, folks: Shit's intense. I entertained my Facebook friends by posting, "I saw Goody Palin with the Devil!" as my status. I got three likes and a comment. Laugh, fools, laugh.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
others I have no recollection of
Okay, so I went to Broadway on Broadway, without Berri or Lenora. I'm not gonna say it wasn't fun, cause it was. It was really fun. But here's how it went, and maybe this self-seeking bitch can redeem herself a bit: My dad charged into my room this morning and declared that if I could be out of the house in ten minutes we could go to Broadway on Broadway. Of course I was up like a shot, washing and half-drying my hair, pulling out a pair of jeans and a plaid top, and out in the door in seven minutes.
We took the subway over. I have to say, I don't think there is any experience that is more 'New York' then emerging from the subway to see the entire city rise before you. We arrived in Times Square just in time to see Sutton Foster's face projected on the big screen. After some expert maneuvering, and my shameless manipulation of the fact that my dad's a cop, we managed to end up three rows from the stage. It was great.
First up was Bye Bye Birdie. It was okay. Seeing Matt Doyle again was a blast from the past. Even when I'm old and in my rocker, I'm still going to remember him as Hanschen Rilow, the creepy omnisexual German Nazi kid from Spring Awakening. He'd make a great Emcee. Because really, there aren't that many roles in the range of creepy omnisexual Germans.
Next to Normal did Superboy and the Invisible Girl. I hate that song. I just do. Alice Ripley seems to have seen better days. But then again, so has this country. I'm a Ripley fan now, I'll be a Ripley fan tomorrow, and I was a Ripley fan yesterday. As such, I screamed like a lunatic for her. I think a return visit to the Booth may be in order.
West Side Story was awful. Josefina Scaglione seemed decent, but Matt Cavenaugh was the auditory equivalent of inserting contact lenses with a razor.
Hair was next. Only Caissie Levy was there, and one of the highlights of my day was watching her horrified face when the host pronounced her name as "Cassie Levvy." It was epic. She did a pretty good job. There are worse songs they could have done.
A few bland numbers later, (I'm looking at you, White Christmas,) Ragtime was on. They did Wheels of a Dream. That's a great song, but my favorite is the Prologue. After Wheels of a Dream, the entire cast strode onstage to sing the end of the Prologue.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncAefV8W7FE And I cried. We're not talking a few subtle tears. This was an out-and-out emotional meltdown. It was pretty pathetic. In case I haven't told you guys this yet, I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE RAGTIME!!!!!!! I don't care where I sit. I'm accustomed to mezzanine crawling, as I've said. But I will be there, come hell or high water. Okay, here goes. Ragtime is perfect. There I said it. Ragtime is perfect. I said it again. The score is perfect. Every show I've ever known has at least one clunker. Cabaret has What Would You Do, Spring Awakening has The Mirror Blue Night, Rent has everything but La Vie Boheme. For Ragtime, though, I cannot think of one song I don't love.
They ended the show but shooting confetti and streamers into the crowd. I literally could not see anything. When I finally emerged from the cloud, confetti was everywhere - in my shoes, down my shirt, in my hair, in my bag. But it wasn't on my party dress.
So all in all a great day. Two weeks to the flea market. J'adore the flea market. Last year I got Berger's ripped shirt. That meant nothing to me then, but now I'm glad I did it. Good times.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
So, friends, I'm taking an opera/musical theatre class this year. The very first thing the girls asked me, before I had even set my books down, was whether or not I had been at the closing of Spring Awakening. When I said yes, they nodded to each other knowingly and asked who my favorite actress was. I said Alice Ripley. This time, they smiled and asked what my name was. I think I passed the test. We've only had three classes, but it's going swimmingly. Taking a class that begins with a question about Spring Awakening constitutes a good year in my book. I'm also required to see an opera in the fall and a musical in the spring. I've never been to the opera. It's really sad. But I'm more excited for it than I thought I would be. I want to see Madame Butterfly, but I think we're either going for Tosca or Turandot.
There's more to say, and there are Broadwaysecrets to share, but it's all stuff I just don't feel like saying right now. So I'm off.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
I have to say, though, the highlight of my day, possibly the highlight of the entire school year, happened within a minute of me setting foot inside the school. One of my Facebook friends, a girl I never actually talk to in the real world, came up to me, hugged me, and said, "Oh, my God, your statuses are amazing!" Now here's the thing, friends. The Facebook relationship is a precarious one. I don't send friend requests. I don't believe in them. If I'm interested in being your friend, I'll do it in the real world. But I don't believe in rejecting them either. So I just hit accept, unless I hate you. But that's not the issue here. Still, it's not the closest of bonds. This would explain why I was utterly shocked that someone would go out of their way to seek me out, hug me, and compliment my Facebook statuses.
Now I hope you're not under the impression that my statuses are actually good. Because they most certainly are not. Usually, they're just a little anecdote about something that happened to me or lyrics that are pulsing around my head. I just think 'em up and clack 'em out. Isn't that what everybody does? Well, I guess it's nice to know that at least one person thinks I'm doing a bang-up job.
So once again, Lenora and I are in the same homeroom and therefore locker neighbors. I am a terrible neighbor, but it's good to have Lenora around. She's smarter than I am and once told me that. Bitch. Our lockers are huge this year. I could probably fit the entire population of Rhode Island in mine. That'll probably come in handy someday. Still, there's a downside - our block of lockers is directly in the path of a swinging door. Curse you, whoever designed the place. Twice today I watched someone get nailed with a door, and the girl in the corner has to practically climb into her locker whenever someone wants to get the door open. Tomorrow I'm gonna bring a road blocks and a stun gun.
Our homeroom teacher told us he'll buy Munchkins for our birthdays, in a flavor the birthday girl chooses. When my birthday comes around, I'm gonna pick something like carrot. It's gonna be a great year.
Monday, September 7, 2009
1. August 20
2. August 8
3. July 13
And now I am awake, and tired, and having a panic attack because it's over. I don't do well with letting stuff go. I still have a bouquet of year-old prop flowers the Spring Awakening stage door man gave me. Lenora can attest to this. They are currently standing upside-down on my vanity, an eyesore but a fountain of memories. Of course, if I tried to touch them they would probably crumble faster than Alice Ripley's descent into madness. (But I still effing adore Alice Ripley, and it makes no difference to me whether or not she's on crack. So what? Carey Grant did LSD. So you can all just shut up about that.) I cannot tell you all the embarrassing things I've done to keep myself awake. I read some of Emily Kinney's blog posts. She's Jean on the August: Osage County tour. The only acceptable Jean for me is Madeleine Martin, just like Vivien Leigh is the only acceptable Blanche DuBois and blue is the only acceptable Powerade flavor. I leafed through August: OC and counted the number of times Barbara says f-ck. Trust me. It's a lot. After that I looked at some old pictures and marveled at how fat I was as a child. In an hour I will watch Family Guy. While we're on the subject, some poor unfortunate soul had the absolute unmitigated gall to tell me that South Park was funnier than Family Guy. That is an utterly unacceptable thing to say, and horrifying too. Jesus, I'm soooo tired. How tired, you ask? So tired that if I were Caissie Levy I'd be ripping my weave out right now. And then the world would rejoice. Sorry, Caissie Levy. I'm backing off now. You do what you want with your hair, and I'll just silently judge you. Don't take it personal. I do that to everybody.
So I saw Taking Woodstock last night. (Technically, two days ago?) Yeah. You know that scene in Schindler's List where all the women see the children being taken off to the gas chambers? That was a lot less painful.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Watch and be amazed at just how racist, blind, gullible, and ignorant one person can be. The two Christian girls repeatedly slap the Indian girl and her beliefs in the face, and she sits there and tries to calmly explain her beliefs to them. I think my favorite part of the whole video is, "You're not Hindu. You just think you're Hindu." Oh, isn't she just darling? All that insight. Second favorite part is, "Krishna...krishna like Christian?" "No. Krishna like krishna." Seriously, though, this is horrifying. These girls are freaking brainwashed, and they've been trained to go out and brainwash everybody else. I can't believe they were taught that all non-Christians go to hell. What vapid little monkeys, to believe something like that. It just amazes me that there are people like this in the world.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
So...what to talk about? It has come to my attention that my blog reaches approximately 35 people a day, 31 of which return on a daily basis. So there are 31 of you? Hello, darlings. I love each and every one of you, unless your name happens to be Patti LuPone. Honestly, I never expected to have an audience at all. For the longest time I thought I was just talking to the wall, plus Lenora. It's good to know I reach approximately .000000000000000000000000001% of the population. It gives me some kind of hope.
Thanks to a new application, I can now see how each of you linked yourselves to my blog. I'm sorry if you find that creepy. Today, one of you searched "Karen Ziemba" and found yourself here. Sorry, friend. You will find nothing positive about that woman on my blog. Another lonely cyber-wandered searched "shirtless Aaron Tveit." Why, you sly boots. You won't find that here, either, but we're working on it, my friend.
Knowing exactly how many of you there are makes me kind of nervous. I feel judged. How long have you folks been reading? Do you mind when I get ornery? Am I boring you? I am no performer. I've always been terrified of the spotlight, and my many literary endeavours have gone largely unread, at my own intention. I don't let my own mother read this stuff, folks. To be honest, I was more comfortable talking to the wall than I am talking to all of you.
Oh, well. You're here, and apparently you keep coming back, like a kitten I fed once and can't get rid of. Not that I want any of you to leave. Jesus. There are only 31 of you. How many people can I afford to chase away? No, friends, I'm very grateful that there are people who pretend to care what I am saying. Still, don't flatter yourselves into thinking I'm doing this for all of you. Please, I'm not that nice. I've long suspected that I have some kind of Momma Rose complex. Bottom line - "I guess I did it for myself." Folks, it's been almost a year. Let's not convince ourselves that I'm anything but an insomniac girl who got bored with Broadwayworld.
I am very tempted to share some more of my writing with you folks. I've been rereading my countless unfinished manuscripts from back in the day. Some are mind-bendingly hideous, some are actually pretty damn good. The problem with my main project now is that I know I am capable of doing better, but I'm too lazy to try. This is not my career, this will not be my career. What am I wasting my time on?
Moving on to something completely different - religion. I am Catholic. I have been educated Catholic, and I think I've turned out fine. As for the whole "kill the gays and abortion should be illegal" scene, I'm not sure I buy that crap. Here's what I know - I believe in God. I believe in love. I believe in heaven and hell, and I'd like to think everyone goes to heaven. If that makes me Catholic, then let me be called Catholic. It makes no real difference in the long run. But there are some areas when I deviate from the beaten path - For me, it is easy to feel close to God when I am watching a once-in-a-lifetime performance, or dancing onstage at Hair, or hearing my baby cousin tell me she loves me. When I'm sitting in an over-heated church listening to an Indian pastor drone on, not so much. Which is why I'm not that much of a church-goer. Let me clarify - theatre is not my religion. The Al Hirschfeld Theatre is not my place of worship, and when I pray, I pray to God, not Alice Ripley. (Although I freely admit that I offered up a small prayer to Bea Arthur that Angela Lansbury would win the Tony. I figured if anyone could help out with that, she could. Thanks for that one, Bea.) But there are things that help us to know that God exists, and if you want to say that theatre has taught me that, I guess you can. It brings me happiness, and happiness is the only thing I am looking for in this world.
I have not had a bad life so far, but there have been long stretches of time when I have been unhappy. When you've gone months without happiness, you learn how precious it is. And now, friends, I know more joy than I have ever seen in my life, and I am grateful, happy, peaceful, and enjoying the blue skies.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Anyway, it's late, it's hot, the Kerrigan and Lowerdmilk is abundant, and the blue Powerade is flowing freely. You know what that means. It's time for...A BLOG POST! I think I need my own theme song. Before I continue, I would like you all to know that I'm watching Two Strangers, and when I toggled between the tabs, Caissie Levy looked for one shining moment like a drugged cow. It was amusing. You're welcome. So...I love quotes. I build my life around them, memorize them, chant them like some kind of ancient Hindu mantra. There are just so many wonderful ones, and whenever the situation warrants I just pluck one from my extensive repertoire and blab it out. It's kinda like the way I can take any situation and liken it to something that happened in a Family Guy episode. Only I'm not so proud of that. But I thought I'd share some of my favorites with you, my very, very tiny audience.
"Bon appetit, douchebag." - Stewie Griffin
"It's much harder to make an audience laugh than it is to make them cry." - Vivien Leigh
"You're an asshole." - Pearl the Landlord
"If God brought you to it, He will bring you through it." - anonymous
"Leastest thing that they could teach you is not to talk on what you're wholly, completely,
abysmally ignorant of." - Caroline, or Change
"Jeez, if you wanted to put on a bad show why didn't we just do Rent?" - Peter Griffin
"You can't sell me, you fat son of a bitch!" - Meg Griffin
"Deliberate cruelty is not forgivable." - Blanche DuBois
"Just goes to show ya, Blanche, ya never know what's comin'." - Stanley Kowalski
"We all gotta keep goin'. No matter what happens, we gotta keep goin'." - Eunice Hubbell
"Are you box outta your mind?" - Harold Mitchell
"You look like a lesbian." - Violet Weston
"You don't wanna break shit with me, muthaf*cka!" - Barbara Fordham
"I'm a tool." - Robert Pattinson
"Some hurts never heal, but the darkest skies will someday see the sun." - adapted from Next to
"You sound like an unbelievable douche." - Brian Griffin
"Son of a bitch, I guess I'm doing something right." - The Last Five Years
"Start by admitting from cradle to tomb, it isn't that long a stay." - Cabaret
"If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill
"You're a lot of fun. I hope you don't die." - Edie Beale
"Every day is just another and another and another..." - Next to Normal
Confucius say thanks for reading all those quotes. Before I go, we're gonna talk Ragtime. Full casting was announced today. Two problems. Problem Number One: I've never actually heard of anyone that's been cast. That's pretty rough. I like to know what I'm getting myself into. Problem Number Two: Savannah Wise got Evelyn Nesbit, and she's from Rock of Ages. Damn. I'm not trying to be pre-judgemental, but, well, I guess I kinda am. Oh, well. Guess this means Leigh Ann Larkin got Petra in A Little Night Music, and will be over at the Kerr with Angela Lansbury and Catherine Zeta-Jones. I think Leigh Ann Larkin is great, and this is swaying me a bit. But I am still backing Ragtime 100% for that Tony.
The role that will be left open when Savannah leaves Rock of Ages will be filled by Kerry Butler. She can do better than that, but I guess the bills still have to be paid. I like to think that's the only reason Brian d'Arcy James and Sutton Foster took the embarrassing pratfall-fest that was Shrek.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
But really, who am I to judge them? Even though they were chronically middle aged, badly dressed, and listening to an awful band out on a soggy deck that smelled of smoke and rotting fish, they seemed to be having a good time. Still, it was difficult to suppress the urge to shake them and say, "Open your eyes, people! You're not twenty-one! You're in freaking Belmar, for Christ's sake!" My parents kept telling me how much fun these people used to be when they were young. I simply could not imagine any of those folks ever being fun or young. While we're on the subject, I'm gonna bash Jersey. There is nothing there. Literally. Nothing. I don't care how much fun "going down the shore" is. It's not fun for me. Renting a house in Belmar and sleeping somewhere else may be where it's been but it's not where it's at. I have no interest in any of that. Why would anybody want to lay on the beach for hours, slowly subjecting themselves to skin cancer, and then going out clubbing with a bunch of guidos you could find anywhere else in the tristate area? The fact that a bunch of middle-aged folks still think that this is fun, and have conditioned their children to believe that it's fun, depresses me. Really. It's sad, kinda like drinking alone in an apartment out in Queens. Apparently, it doesn't matter where you are as long as your with your friends. Is it so terribly awful of me to say that I don't believe that's true at all? Because really, I'd much rather be sitting with my enemies and watching some indie band play Joe's Pub than be out out in Belmar, Seaside, or anywhere else on the Jersey Shore doing shots with my friends. It's okay if you want to call me a bad person. My own mother tells me that every day.
Depressing factor aside, going to that bar today was actually a pretty educational anthropological study. There was this one woman there, with sun-mottled skin, sagging boobs, platinum hair, and a skintight red dress, who was just sitting at the bar doing shot after shot. She was by herself and looked to be about fifty. It was so sad, but then I realized that looking at her was like looking through a time portal. She was some kind of Little Edie Beale, a relic left over from the past. This woman could remember a time when it was alright to wear red dresses after age 25 and people actually went to Belmar bars on purpose. The saddest part was that she wasn't the only poor unfortunate soul out there. Really, was there anybody there who didn't witness the Kennedy assassination? I have my doubts.