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.